“Does Reeve know?” I quietly ask.
Mom’s eyes narrow. “He knows, and I’ll be having a stern conversation with him when I see him.”
“This isn’t his fault, Mom.”
“The hell it isn’t,” she hisses. “His behavior has led directly to this. He never should’ve agreed to that bullshit contract. His actions have placed you directly in harm’s way, and I’m done biting my tongue. I don’t know what’s gotten into that boy, but this is not the Reeve Lancaster I helped to raise. I am so disappointed in him.”
“He’s beside himself with worry,” Dad adds. “And he’d be here if he could.”
I close my eyes, unable to deal with the usual emotional turmoil thoughts of Reeve invoke when I’m in so much physical pain. “Does the media know?” I ask, even if I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“Yes. Unfortunately. News of your attack has been widely reported.”
“Well, that’s swell,” I drawl, forcing my eyes open. “What about Audrey?”
“Audrey was here earlier, but we sent her home to get some sleep. She’ll be back tomorrow after her exams,” Mom confirms.
“You should go back to sleep, princess. It’s late.”
As if on cue, I yawn, and the instant I close my eyes, I fall back asleep.
When I wake the next morning, faint beams of light are filtering into the room through gaps in the blinds, causing me to wince.
“Viv. I’m here.” Reeve’s voice is low, laced with pain and a tinge of remorse. My good fingers twitch, and the touch of his hand is warm in mine.
Gulping over the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat, I turn to face my boyfriend, whimpering as a fresh wave of pain pounds in my skull. Fuck. This hurts like a bitch.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He plants his lips on the back of my hand as tears fall silently down his face. “Sorry this happened to you, and sorry I wasn’t here immediately. I got here as soon as I could. The plane ride was the most excruciating journey because I was terrified, Viv.” He lifts our conjoined hands to his cheek, nuzzling into me. “You were still unconscious when I got on the plane, and I didn’t know what I’d find when I arrived.”
His sobs fill the quiet room, and it appears Mom and Dad have made themselves scarce.
“I was so scared you were dead, Viv. Scared I would never get to hold you again or tell you how much I love you. Scared I wouldn’t get the chance to apologize for all the ways I have let you down. Scared I wouldn’t get an opportunity to make up for all the wrongs.”
My chest heaves painfully, and I’m struggling to breathe over my injuries and the emotional cocktail sloshing inside me. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with this right now, but I am glad he is here. “Your fans hate me, Reeve. They want you with her, and it seems they’ll stop at nothing to make that happen.” Tears stream down my face, and I’m in so much pain, on so many different levels, and I just want it to stop.
Loving someone should not hurt this much.
“Your parents filled me in,” he explains, as his tears dry up, replaced with anger. “I know this is my fault. I haven’t prioritized you or your needs, and I’ve been a selfish asshole, but it stops now.” Determination glimmers in his eyes. “I’m going to make this up to you.” With deliberate tenderness, he briefly touches my injured cheek. “They will pay for what they did to you, and I’m going to make sure no one ever touches you again.”
That sounds like a tall order, and while I want to believe his pretty words are sincere, in recent times Reeve has a habit of promising me things he fails to deliver.
“Oh my God,” I hiss, ducking my head into my chest and squeezing my eyes shut to avoid the glare of the camera flashes as Reeve wheels me out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Pain accosts me on several fronts, and I grip the arms of the wheelchair tight while gritting my teeth. Mom and Dad flank me on either side as we head toward the waiting Lincoln Navigator. Reporters shout questions at me, and pain rattles around my skull, protesting the noise elevation. There must be at least one hundred reporters here, and TV station vans line both sides of the road outside the hospital. Thousands of Reeve’s adoring fans are being herded behind temporary barriers, and several police officers are doing crowd control. It’s complete chaos, and it’s playing havoc with my sore head.
“This is insane,” Mom says, shooting daggers at Reeve. “I think your presence here is doing more harm than good.”
I want to tell Mom to stop, because Reeve is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t in her eyes at the moment, but I’m in too much pain to form words.
“I’m going to fix it,” he reassures her, scooping me out of the chair and carrying me into the back seat.
“See that you do,” Mom warns, while Reeve buckles me into my seat belt.
He claims the seat beside me, and I lean my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes as the driver cautiously edges out of the hospital and onto the main road. I drift off to sleep almost immediately, and when I wake, Reeve is carrying me into my bedroom.
Mom helps me into clean pajamas while Reeve makes himself scarce. I’m yawning as I crawl under my comforter, grateful to be back in my own bed. I was only in the hospital for three days in total, but it felt like longer, and there is no place like home. “Do you want me to ask him to leave?” Mom inquires, perching on the edge of my bed.
“He’s come all this way for me, and he has to leave tomorrow to get back to the set, so no. It’s not worth the fight. Besides, I want him here.” I’m not going to question the right or wrong of it, but I need Reeve, and I’m glad he came home for me.
Her lips pull into a tight line, but she nods, holding back her real thoughts. I’m sure I’ll hear them at some point, but I’m glad it’s not now. “Reeve is getting you something to eat, and then you should try to sleep. The LAPD will be here in the morning to take your statement. They wanted you to come downtown, but after the fiasco leaving the hospital, your dad managed to convince the detectives it would be better to conduct your interview here.”
“Thanks, Mom. For everything.”
She pats my arm. “You’re our daughter, Vivien. We’d do anything to keep you safe.” Her expression turns more somber. “Changes will need to be made. A bodyguard is nonnegotiable now. It’s the one thing Reeve and I wholeheartedly agree on.”
I nod, because I’m not going to turn down protection after what happened. Those Saffhards are crazy bitches, and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of their hatred again. I will make whatever changes are necessary to keep myself safe.
She points to a pill bottle and a glass of water by my bed. “Don’t forget to take your pain meds after you eat. You have to take them three times a day for the next week, and then we can start weaning you off them.”
“Okay,” I say, as Dad and Reeve appear in the room.
Mom helps me to sit upright, as Reeve places a tray table over my lap.
“It’s good to have you home, princess.” Dad drops my hospital bag on the floor by the wall.
“It’s good to be home, Dad.”
My parents leave, after sending Reeve blatant warning looks, gently closing the door behind them. I sip my chicken noodle soup while Reeve watches me, stretched out beside me on my bed. There is so much we need to say, but I can’t go there. Not when the pain of my concussion is still so debilitating and all I want to do is rest. For now, I’ll accept the comfort his presence brings without beating myself up over it.
After finishing my soup and bread, I snuggle under the covers as Reeve sets the tray to one side, lying down beside me. He laces his fingers in mine, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my lips. He scoots closer, and I rest my head on his chest, welcoming the familiar steady thrumming of his heart. His fingers gently touch my hair, and when he is holding me like this, everything feels right in my world again.
I know it’s an illusion.
A fantasy bubble.