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It's been almost four hours, and I’m still waiting. I'm in the lounge area on the other side of the observation room, a solid door keeping me from knowing what is happening between the doctor and Lee—or Brant. Lee/Brant. I couldn't watch their discussion, and honestly, I really don't want to know what is said. Right now, I left things solid. I was somewhat firm with him. I didn’t sleep with him, at least. One gold star on my horrible report card. Maybe not gold. A silver star. A check mark. C+.
I pace across the Persian carpet and ruin my manicure with my teeth. I sit on the loveseat and flip through channels on the television, watching a few minutes of one channel, then another, then turn off the set. There was a full bowl of red foil chocolates on the coffee table that is now half full, and I'm gnashing through one of the peanut butter ones now.
I've reached a new level of jittery. This feels like a bad night in college when Dianna Forge held an Uppers and Manicures party, and it was all fun and games until everyone passed out and I was the only one awake. The uppers wore off and depression nosedived me into a black hole of despair, and I was staring at her manicure scissors and considering the effects of using them on the thin skin on my inner wrists.
This is different, the cause isn't from a pharmaceutical mix of stupidity, but the result is similar. An avalanche of all of my mistakes and the issues that are facing Brant and me.
What if the company gets taken from him?
What if Jillian decides to kamikaze this situation?
What if Brant never forgives me?
What if Lee doesn't leave?
What if he leaves and I'm not happy with the new person that Brant is?
What if another, different personality arrives instead?
The waiting is insufferable, as is the unknown variable of whether my future husband comes back as two men or one.
At four and a half hours, I can't take anymore. I go into the observation room long enough to jot a note down to Dr. Terra that I am heading to Windere and to call me when they are finished. I take Brant's car and drive straight home.
The house is like a funeral home. A brightly lit one with a million-dollar view, fresh flowers in every room, and dread hanging thick in the air. The staff smiles a hello as I walk straight to the elevator and take it up to our suite. I skip the shower and crawl into bed fully dressed. I call out a command to close the blinds and the system whirs into motion. The room darkens into pitch black, and the hum of the fan is like a lullaby. I close my eyes, my legs twitchy and aching from pacing, and wrap the soft upper blanket around myself. Willing my mind to stop moving, I say a long prayer for Brant.
Somewhere during the prayer, I fall asleep.
* * *
My cell goes off and my body jerks into consciousness. I kick off the blanket and run my hands over the covers, finding the phone. I answer it while moving off the bed and I call out for the lights as I reach for my shoes. The lamps beside the bed glow to life. "Hello."
"Ms. Fairmont, this is Irene from Dr. Terra's office. He wanted me to tell you that he and Mr. Sharp are almost done."
"I'll be there in ten minutes. Thanks." I hang up the cell and step out of the bedroom into the hall, breaking into a jog. Soon, I’ll have him back. In whatever shape that comes in.
* * *
When Brant walks out of the office and toward the car, a wave of recognition and relief hits me. The weight of his shoulders, the haunted look that had appeared the day I ruined his life, is gone. His confidence is back, and I step out of the car and meet him halfway, surprised when he pulls me to him and plants a possessive kiss on my lips.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
His hand is still gripping my waist and he studies my face as if he hasn't seen it in a while. His mouth curves into a reassuring smile and I realize how long it has been since he looked happy. "We're good. Come on, we can talk in the car." He returns to my mouth without waiting for a response, my breath taken by the force of his kiss, stronger than I am used to from him, the type of kiss that guarantees a long and lengthy fuck the minute we step inside the house. He releases my waist but pulls on my hand, opening my door to the car.
* * *
"So, what happened?" I speak the moment the car is in drive, the hours of waiting and anxiety spilling out of me.
"Dr. Terra spoke to Lee and he agreed to leave."
I wait for more but he is silent, his blinker on as he waits at the light.
"And?" I finally ask.
"And he left."
I glance at the clock on the Aston Martin's dash. "It's been seven hours."
He frowns, his hands sliding effortlessly across the steering wheel as he downshifts, and the smooth motion reminds me of his hands across my skin, and the fact that we haven't had sex in over three weeks. "Seven hours?" He checks his watch. "Wow. I..." He glances at his watch again, then at the dash clock to verify. "He must have been with Lee longer than I realized."
