Broken Illusions (His Agenda Volume 3) (2 page)

Chapter Two

During my work break at 11 a.m., I walked into my bedroom and a chill instantly ran down my spine when I saw the unmade bed. I rarely forgot to make my bed unless I was in a big rush.

I gazed at it for a long time, brow furrowed, heart thumping. Could I really have forgotten? Or was my mind playing tricks on me again? As soon as I’d stopped therapy a month ago, my memories had been on a mission to drive me crazy.

The sound of hip-hop music drifting in through the closed window brought me back to reality. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to stop therapy. But how the hell would I learn to stand on my feet when I had a crutch nearby?

No. I would not call Garrett and ask for a session. I would be fine. All these weird things that were happening were tricks of my imagination. I should have expected my deep-rooted fears to surface now that I didn’t have a shrink to run to.

I took a deep breath, dropped my purse on the armchair, and moved toward the bed. I made it quickly, then opened the window to refresh the stale air that had been gathering in there all morning.

Before I left the room, I did something that made me feel stupid, but I couldn’t stop myself: I took a photo of the bed. Then I slipped the phone back into my purse and went downstairs to my home office, which doubled as the dining room, where I forgot all about the unmade bed. I got started responding to client requests and editing photos on my laptop, until I was disturbed by the doorbell around 3 p.m.

When I opened the door, Dustin stood on the front porch with a smile and a pizza box.

“You still haven’t found your key?” I asked, smiling back at him. “Maybe I should have a copy made for you.”

“Sure.” He kissed me and walked into the apartment. I followed him to the living room. “But right now let’s worry about food. I know how you can get carried away with work and forget to eat.”

He was right. I loved my work so much these days that I sometimes went all day without food or sleep. But I at least made sure to always have some mineral water close at hand.

I pulled off the head scarf I was wearing and ran a hand through my hair. I opened one of the pizza boxes. The aroma made my mouth water and my stomach rumbled. “Pizza is a great idea.”

“I’ll get some plates.” Dustin turned to leave the living room, but I stopped him.

“Let’s eat from the box. We’ll do our best not to make too much of a mess.”

Dustin was a complete neat freak, whereas I had no problem with a little creative chaos.

“You expect me to believe that?” He laughed and folded up the sleeves of his chocolate-brown shirt, revealing strong wrists covered by faint hairs.

I lifted a slice of pizza from the box, the cheese stretching under it like gum, and took a bite. “Mmm… This is so good. Dannie’s?”

“Oh, yes. Only the best for my lady.”

Dannie’s Oven was two blocks away and one of my favorite pizzeria. Dustin was always thoughtful. He showed me in little ways that he cared. He met my needs both big and small, but never suffocated me in the process. Unlike my relationship with Jude, my relationship with Dustin was comfortable, respectful, and loving. When I needed Dustin to be there, he was. When I needed my space, he gave it to me without complaining. He was one of the biggest reasons I was able to make such great progress in my healing journey.

We ate in comfortable silence, and then we watched the news for a bit. Then Dustin stood, took the boxes to the kitchen, and told me he had to leave for a business meeting.

He pulled me to his hard body and kissed me. “I’ll be back tonight.”

He had been traveling so much the past few days we hadn’t had as much time together as we would have liked. Between both our busy schedules, we had to consciously make time for each other. This was the best relationship I had ever had, so messing it up wasn’t an option.

When Dustin was in town, I often made an effort to prepare a romantic night for us. It didn’t even have to be something big. Sometimes it was enough for me to buy us tickets to the movies, or cook a meal we could enjoy indoors before spending the rest of the night making love.

“I miss you already,” I said. “What time will you be here?”

“Around nine.” He kissed my neck. “Once I step through the door, all phones and computers are off. No work. Just play.”

“I love you, baby.” I tilted my head back, inviting the kisses he planted on my throat. Desire flooded through me.

Dustin did that to me every time. His touch had the power to drive me crazy. No man had ever made me feel the way he did. Not even Jude during the early stages of our relationship. Dustin was it for me now. I still had a lot of hurdles to overcome before I could give in completely to him, but our future together seemed inevitable. He was my man and I would never let him go.

“There’s more where that came from. See you later.” Releasing me, he disappeared out the door.

Chapter Three

“Haley, thank you so much for doing this for my little girl. I appreciate it,” Iris Kellems said, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“It was my pleasure. I wish I could do more.” With a heavy heart, I glanced at the ten-year-old girl lying in the hospital bed. She looked like a skeleton in her princess dress.

“There's nothing more anyone can do,” Iris whispered. “You will be giving us something precious to cherish.”

A knot formed inside my stomach as I watched Summer’s small hands form fists at her sides. How was it possible that in less than a month, she might no longer be alive? She had an inoperable brain tumor that was only diagnosed four months ago.

With not much time for them to spend with their daughter, and needing to hold on to every memory, Iris and her husband, Walter, had contacted me after coming across one of my advertisements in the
Serendipity Daily
.

Even though most of my assignments revolved around happy times, now and then I agreed to photograph sad moments, attempting to capture the beauty nestled in every tear, in the dark folds of pain. Photographs had a way of making even the ugliest moments beautiful.

When we met, Iris and Walter told me that Summer’s dream when she grew up was to become a model. They wanted her to be one for a day. I could not refuse the opportunity to put a smile on a dying child’s face. I even went as far as offering them my services for free, and they had obviously saved up to buy their daughter the perfect dress—a dream of pink and cream lace and chiffon that made her look like an angel. An angel in pain.

The week before the shoot, I visited Summer a few times at Serendipity Memorial Hospital. I liked to meet my clients beforehand, to study the angles on their faces that put them in the best light, to find the features that made them unique, since those were the things I focused on during the shoot.

I moved my gaze from Summer and met her mother’s tired brown eyes. “I'll give you a call when I'm done editing the photos.”

“Okay.” Iris gave me a sad smile and went to sit at her daughter's bedside. I glanced at Summer’s innocent face one more time and then slipped out of the room.

Though the air outside was lighter, my heart was so heavy the only way I could release the tension was to cry. And I did, inside a bathroom stall of the pediatric intensive care unit. I wept as if I were the mother of that dying child. I cried as if I were Summer herself, about to lose a life barely lived.

I jolted when someone knocked on my cubicle.

“Are you okay in there?”

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “I'm fine,” I said, but my voice was too broken to be believed.

“Do you need anything?” The woman on the other side sounded somehow familiar but I couldn't place her voice. Just what I needed, someone I knew seeing me like this.

“No. I'm fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” The voice sounded unsure, but accepting.

A few moments later, I exited the stall and wiped off the mascara running under my eyes.

As I walked down the hall, I heard the familiar voice again behind me. I spun around and my mouth dropped open.

“Haley? Haley Bradley?.” The woman rushed toward me and engulfed me in a hug while I was still getting used to the surprise of seeing her again.

“Oh my God, Becca,” I said into her shoulder. “It’s been such a long time.”

Becca Pellugrosso stood back and surveyed me, but her smile fell when our eyes met. “I recognized your voice instantly. I waited out here for you because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. Are you okay? Looks like you still cry in toilets.” She gave a small laugh.

“I'm fine.” I waved a dismissive hand, remembering the day Becca had found me crying inside the toilet of Allure, and I’d opened up to her about my financial troubles. “I visited a patient. It was… hard.”

Becca nodded. “I know what you mean. I'm sorry.”

She was so beautiful with no makeup on, tall, with skin like porcelain, brown eyes sparkling, and her bright red hair pulled back in a braided bun. I had only ever seen her with heavy makeup and wigs. “You look great,” I said, noticing her scrubs. “Do you work here?”

“Yep.” She shrugged. “My dream of becoming a doctor didn't pan out in the end.” She smoothed down her
scrub top. “This is the next best thing for me. I still get to help people.”

I nodded, full of questions but not wanting to pry. It had been years since we last saw each other. We were both different people now, shaped by life in different ways. I had no idea where she had been. She might not have read about me in the papers, but somehow I doubted it.

Everyone in town knew, and for months, most turned their backs on me, as they had done when my mother died. The way they saw it, I was responsible for the deaths of the prostitutes. The blood was on my hands as much as Jude’s. I didn’t blame them for thinking that. He killed those women because I left him. I should have stayed, should have made him pay right where I was, inside his mansion. Only then should I have walked away to start afresh.

“How have
you
been?” She averted her gaze as soon as she asked the question, and my heart sank. She definitely knew what had happened to me. “I heard—”

“I’m… My life is good. I’m a photographer now.” I pointed to my camera equipment, a sliver of excitement trailing down my spine. I had accomplished something after all.

“I heard you’re brilliant. Good for you. I’m so happy.” She paused. “We should meet up sometime—catch up, you know.”

“Yeah, we should. I’d like that,” I said, meaning it. It would be nice to meet up with an old friend for a drink, someone who knew me at my worst and still wanted to spend time with me.

“Great.” She pulled a small notepad and pen from one of her pockets. “Give me your number.”

After another quick hug, we said goodbye.

As I ate dinner with Dustin a few hours later, Becca made good on her promise to call, and we arranged to meet for coffee at Mel’s Delights the next day.

“Must be exciting, meeting up with an old friend. How do you know her?” Dustin asked as he cleared the table. He had sent his housekeeper home so we could spend some time alone.

I gave him a tight smile. I had no reason to be ashamed around him, but I couldn’t help it. Some habits are hard to break. “She worked at Allure with me.”

Dustin simply nodded, smiled, and came to kiss me on the forehead. “I’m glad you ran into each other.”

Chapter Four

“I have to admit something to you. No, actually, I’d like to apologize,” Becca said, nursing her coffee. I had told her what happened with Jude and she’d looked completely horrified to hear my story firsthand.

“What for?”

“When I read about you… everything in the papers, I felt guilty. If I hadn’t convinced you to, you know… go all the way…”

“It’s not your fault. I was old enough to make my own decisions.”

“But that one decision changed your life forever. Terribly.”

I sipped my hot chocolate, relishing the caramel aftertaste. “It did. But it was still a decision I made all on my own. You were not my babysitter.”

“Still, I felt… I feel sort of responsible.”

“Well, stop feeling that way. If it makes you feel better, I think I’d have run into Jude at some point. He would have found another way to get to me.”

Becca sighed deeply. “I’m so glad you’re alive. It’s really nice to see you again.” She smiled, her teeth sparkling white against her pink lips. “I’m also glad we both got out of Allure. Did you hear it closed down?” She bit into her chocolate cupcake.

“Yeah, I did.” Jude’s killing spree had left a mark on the whole community. Out of fear, many prostitutes and strippers quit their jobs. Some even left town, leaving businesses that depended on their services to go bankrupt. “I wonder what Bruno does now.”

“I think he does several things.” Becca leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I saw him a few months back working at a gas station. You’d have hardly recognized him.”

“Can he still afford his toupees?”

“Nope. He was bald as an egg. He pretended not to know me.”

“He did?” I laughed, almost choking on my hot chocolate. “What did you do?”

“I gave him a huge tip. Embarrassed him half to death.” She sighed. “He’s the past. We’re here and we made it through. I hope this won’t be the last time we meet up. I’d love to keep in touch.”

“So would I. I don’t have many friends.”

“Well,” she said, taking my hand in hers, “you have one more now.”

“So do you.” I felt a foreign lightness in my chest.

After our meeting, I was on cloud nine, as if I was one step closer to becoming whole again.

Two weeks later, Becca and I met again, and a few more times after that. During one of those times I introduced her to Dustin.

We started getting together at least once every two weeks for a girls’ night out or in. We rarely talked about the past anymore. We laughed, cried, and had a lot of fun together. For the first time in my life, I had a close friend. Someone besides Dustin I could trust.

Even though I still had little moments of sadness and fear, my life was finally normal. I only prayed it would remain that way. Jude had made a pessimist out of me. I had become the person who was always waiting for something bad to happen, who found it hard to believe that happiness could be a lasting thing. Or that I even deserved it in the first place.