If Only (21 page)

Without speaking, Donald reached a hand into his pocket and extracted the money he had removed from his son’s wallet. Without even bothering to count it, he handed the large wad of bills to Bree.

“This is not a bribe of any kind,” he spoke, stopping her as she opened her mouth to protest. “My son should have to pay for both your medical expenses and for the cost of replacing your wardrobe from this incident. I am punishing him to the best of my ability, but I cannot file criminal charges against him for you. Only you can do that, and feel free to do so. If he has to spend some quality time in jail to get his head screwed on straight, then so be it.”

Without another word, she turned to leave. She had one hand on the doorknob when he stopped her with a question. “Why were you in his office, Mrs. Weston?”

Her gaze lowered, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “I was summoned by one of the secretaries. She told me it was you who wished to see me. I arrived and then was directed to Bryan’s office, not even realizing it wasn’t yours. I didn’t comprehend what had happened until it was too late. By then I was already trapped inside with no way out. I should have known better.”

Shame crossed Donald’s face as he looked into green eyes a man could nearly get himself lost in. “Maybe we both should have known better,” he agreed, without managing to sound condescending. “For whatever its worth, I want to apologize for the actions of my son.” Picking up a pile of paperwork on his cluttered desk, he continued, “As for the threat my son made, you and your husband wouldn’t have been fired.”

At her shocked expression, he proceeded to explain, “Since I was the person that signed your original contracts, he didn’t have the authority to cancel them. The only way Bryan could ever have cancelled your writing contract was if he had been the one to sign the initial contract or if I had died, leaving him in control of the company. Then he could have terminated it on my behalf.”

“Then he lied,” she murmured.

“My son has lied about a lot of things, Mrs. Weston. And the horrible truth of it is you are not the only person he has lied to.”

Bree met the older man’s troubled gaze, surprised to see tears shining in his midnight blue eyes. She had never seen Donald Sexton in this light before. She remembered him as an imposing figure, one who had never recognized his son’s shortcomings, a man who had been blind to Bryan’s wicked ways. But this man was unfamiliar to her. This man knew just what a monster he had raised, and he was hoping to make amends, to make things right. And this man was saddened to discover what kind of man his son had grown up to be.

When nothing but silence filled the room, she murmured her thanks and once again reached for the doorknob. Turning to look at the older man once more, she found him sitting at his massive desk with his head held in his hands, and a rush of sympathy washed over her.

Here was a man who seemed to hold the world in the palm of his hands. At first glance, he had everything a man could possibly want: prestige, power, money. But appearances could be deceiving, their lives nothing more than an illusion.

For the first time since she had met Donald Sexton, the elderly man looked his age. He looked like a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, a man who had been beaten down by life.

Relief overcame Bree when she opened the door and discovered Scott was waiting for her, pacing the floor. She had no idea how long the discussion with Donald Sexton had taken. She had no way of knowing how long he had been roaming the halls, anticipating her arrival.

All she knew was, as always, when she needed Scott Weston, he was there. Tears freely flowed down her cheeks as she walked right into his waiting arms.

Not a single word was spoken; they just held one another, comforting each other.

Bree gasped out loud as a sharp, piercing pain exploded inside her head. She could vaguely hear Scott’s exclamation as a mind-numbing pain wrenched through her entire body, leaving her incapacitated. Her knees buckled beneath her, and the last thing she saw clearly was the wedding band on his ring finger, flashing silver fire that blinded her right before the darkness enveloped her.

Chapter 17

“Bree? Bree! Do you think we should call an ambulance?”

Bree struggled to respond, but when she heard Jade answer, she suddenly realized the question hadn’t been directed at her. She could hear her friends calling to her, but it sounded as though they were a million miles away, speaking to her from inside a tunnel. Reaching out blindly, she searched for the familiar and comforting support of her husband. She choked back tears when she opened her eyes at the comprehension Scott was nowhere to be found.

She was lying uncomfortably on the sidewalk with one of her legs tucked beneath her body, where she had slipped on the patch of ice. She noticed she was still wearing her camel-colored coat, which she had tightened around her waist. Silent tears slipped unnoticed down her cheeks when it dawned on her she had been sent back.

Her eyes scrutinized her ring finger, devastated to discover she was no longer wearing the simple wedding band she had so adored and cherished. She began to shake when she realized what must have happened. It had only been a dream, a wonderful dream, but now it was all over; she was awake, and she didn’t want to leave Scott behind. She didn’t want to go back to the empty shell her life had once been.

She gasped out loud when she suddenly thought about the baby. Not only had she lost Scott, the love of her life, for the second time, but she had also lost their baby. The baby she had always so desperately wanted. She felt a tremendous sense of loss.

Her hands fluttered down to cup her stomach, caressing the smooth, flat surface. She wished she could simply crawl into a hole and die. She had seen how perfect her life could be, and now she wanted nothing more than to go back.

Jade and Heather watched with dismay as their best friend suddenly burst into uncontrollable tears. The two of them looked at each other in confusion, not understanding what was wrong and not really knowing what to do.

Heather reached down to wrap her arms around Bree’s body in a reassuring hug. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she questioned, uncertainty lacing her voice. Bree was normally such a strong woman, and it unnerved Heather to see her acting in this way.

Her voice racked with sobs as she struggled to speak. “Everything’s gone, everything’s gone,” she wailed, covering her face with her hands as she continued repeating that simple phrase, over and over, like a mantra.

“What are we going to do?” Jade asked Heather, concern etched on her lovely face. Running a single hand through her straight jet-black hair, her violet eyes centered on Bree. “She’s going to make herself sick.”

“Scott will never let her leave the house with us again,” Heather groaned, grimacing.

Her ears perked up at the sound of Scott’s name. “What about Scott?” she demanded as she rubbed the vacant finger where earlier, her wedding ring had been.

Heather gave her a quick hug while she struggled to explain, “We had a difficult enough time persuading Scott to let you out of the house. We practically had to leave him a blood sample,” she joked. “If you were to hurt yourself, he’d wrap you in cotton batting until your baby is born.”

She had begun to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand, her motions freezing at Heather’s words.

Staring at her in amazement, she questioned, “Scott? Baby?” Wringing her hands anxiously, she interrogated through her tears, “I’m still married to Scott? And we’re still having a baby?”

Jade examined her, her violet eyes shimmering with concern. “You must have hit your head a lot harder than we thought,” she commented, looking over her head to meet Heather’s matching concerned gaze. “Do you think we should take her to the hospital?” she asked. “She isn’t making much sense.”

When she heard the sound of the familiar voice, her friends’ conversation ceased to matter, it became a mere buzzing in her ears. A pair of strong, muscled arms began to pull her slowly to her feet, catching her when her knees began to buckle. She felt a pair of rough hands raking along the length of her body, checking for injuries and broken bones. Concerned chocolate brown eyes searched each and every square inch of her face, his hands cupping her chin with a tenderness that made her heart swell with joy.

One hand traced a slow path along the side of her face, beginning at her temple and gently making its way down, before stopping to rest on her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him remove her wedding rings from the pocket of his stone-washed jeans.

“Tonight when you were getting dressed, you cried because your fingers were so swollen you couldn’t wear your rings,” he explained, a grin on his handsome face as his fingertips traced the silver band in his hand. “So after you left, I went to the jewelry store and bought these little pieces of plastic called extenders. Now you have no possible excuse for not wearing your rings.” Scott teased her as he gently pushed the pair of rings onto her finger. “Until death do us part.”

She was pressed against the hard length of his body. She could feel his body shudder as he began raining soft kisses along her jawline.

“I was so scared, baby,” he confessed as his hands wound themselves into her hair. “So damn scared.”

Her voice choked as she struggled to speak. “I thought it was all a dream,” she murmured, her emerald eyes never leaving his face. It was like he was a mirage, a miracle, an angel.

“If it is, then I am dreaming too,” he agreed. “Because right now, in this minute, I have everything I have ever wanted.”

The rest of the world simply seemed to disappear once she was back in the shelter of his arms. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks as his lips came down to meet hers. She didn’t know how and she didn’t know why, but she had been given a remarkable gift. She had been given a second chance at life, and she planned on making every second count.

Bree had once heard it said that if-onlys were for dreamers, and she herself would have to agree. But then again, she was living proof dreams really can come true.

Epilogue

Sunlight streamed through the open blinds, the sudden intensity causing the sleeping newborn swaddled in Bree’s loving arms to wail in violent protest.

Rocking the baby gently, whispering words of comfort, she turned to face her husband, who was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed as they watched with mutual fascination the new life that was beginning right before their eyes. “Would you mind closing the blinds?” she questioned, her voice not much louder than a whisper.

She chuckled at the expression on her husband’s face. He looked as though tearing his eyes away from his newborn daughter for even that long was exquisite torture. “We’ll both be here when you get back.” She teased.

“In that case,” he responded with a lopsided grin as he walked over to the window and closed the blinds.

“Isn’t she the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen?” Bree asked as she ran her fingers through their daughter’s short auburn hair.

“Our little Mariah,” Scott whispered, stroking his daughter’s soft cheek.

She frowned as she examined their daughter. Somehow that name just didn’t seem to fit the beautiful baby nestled so trustingly in her arms. She touched the delicate curve of the baby’s ear, deep in thought.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he queried, seeing the uncertain look on her face.

Frowning, she stated with a sigh, “I don't think that name suits her.”

“But you had your heart set on Mariah,” he protested.

“I know,” she murmured. “But looking at her, it just doesn’t seem to fit.”

Carefully watching the sleeping child in Bree’s arms, Scott felt a surge of pride. Not only was he a husband, but as of eight fifty-five that morning, he was now a father. He watched as his wife fussed with the baby’s blanket, wrapping the fuzzy pink material around their daughter’s small body. Sighing, he enjoyed the quiet and peace of this moment.

An overwhelming flood of emotion washed over him as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “I only wish Mom could be here to see her.”

A pain twisted inside her chest. Her husband was right. She wished her mother-in-law had lived to see their darling daughter being brought into the world. She would have been the best grandmother a child could ever have, and Lucy would have been as ecstatic right now as they were. She sniffled as tears filled her eyes.

“I don’t know if I’m crying because I’m sad or because of postpartum depression,” she complained as his arms wrapped around her and he pressed her trembling body against his chest.

Laughing, Scott began to massage her shoulders reassuringly. “Probably a little of both,” he predicted.

Bree frowned as she gazed up at him. “When did you become such an expert at parenting?” she questioned, aggravated.

“Well, I have been reading parenting books ever since I found out you were pregnant,” he claimed.

“And you’ve been a father for what now,” she murmured with a knowing smile. “A whole hour and a half?”

“Cheeky woman,” he complained as his lips met hers. He began deepening the kiss when suddenly she pulled away from his embrace.

Her face lit up as she announced, “I just thought of the perfect name.” She looked at their daughter as she whispered with a knowing smile, “Lucy.”

Scott couldn’t begin to explain all the emotions washing over him in that instant. He felt like a dam about to burst. Gazing at the life they had created, he felt an overwhelming rush of pleasure and pride.

“Lucy,” he murmured with a smile. He met Bree’s intent green gaze, his large hand cradling the top of the baby’s head. “Lucy would be perfect,” he stated. “Lucy Breeanne Weston,” he continued.

The tears pooling in her eyes were the only answer he needed. He reached for his newborn daughter and cradled her protectively in his awkward yet loving embrace. “Named after the two strongest women I have ever known.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the door opening. A middle-aged woman entered, carrying an extravagant bouquet of yellow roses. The nurse walked over to the table next to Bree’s bed and placed the bouquet down, fussing with the golden petals. When her face was finally revealed, Bree had the unmistakable feeling she had met this woman somewhere before.