Vera

The past few days were a blur of shadows, voices, and cramping pain compensated with drugs. I woke up in a light-blue gown on a hospital bed on the first day after my assault. I call it an assault because what happened to me was an act of physical harm.

“Where am I? What have you done to me?” I croaked, seeing Holly’s figure. My throat felt dry and sore from dehydration.

“I’ve just taken the intravenous drip off you,” she said. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”

I was nauseous from the smell of sweet cherries that lingered in the air when she left the room. I was too intoxicated to respond with anything coherent. All the strength had left my drugged and tampered body.

“You’re going to be okay,” she assured me. She combed my unkempt hair with her fingers, getting rid of the knots.

Agonizing pain came from my abdomen. When I lifted my gown, I gasped at the horror of the ugly, jagged stitches from incisions. “What have you done?” I rasped, then drifted into sleep. On day two, I woke up in my apartment bedroom, dizzy and disoriented. I had been in and out of consciousness because of the drugs and felt weak like a worm. I glanced at Holly standing at the doorway and smelled her sickening cherry scent.

“I’m sorry, Vera. You have an enemy, and I had to do this for her,” she confessed.

“Who did you do this for?” I demanded.

“A woman of wealth. That’s all I’ll say.”

“What have you done to me?”

“I performed a tubal ligation. It’s also known as having your tubes tied.”

“What? Are you fucking nuts?” I shouted hoarsely, feeling a dry itch in the back of my throat. I glared at the mad doctor. “You are supposed to help people, not hurt them. What did you do to me?”

“I had to sterilize you.”

“You fucking psycho,” I cried, feeling the shock and pain collide, causing me to scream in agony.

“The fallopian tubes are occluded. No hormonal changes will take place, and your menstrual cycle should be preserved going forward.”

“Speak in English to me. What does that mean?”

“Your tubes are closed because I tied them,” Holly explained. There was no expression on her face. Her soul had left her eyes.

“You’re evil,” I hissed. If I had all the energy and no compunction in the world, I would have ripped her throat.

“Here, you need to take these twice a day for the next week or so,” Holly said, handing me a packet of pills and a glass of water. “They have morphine in them. The pain will subside, and you’ll live a normal and healthy life.”

I took the pills and water from the bitch. “You piece of shit. Why did you do this?”

“I had to do it because my family comes first. Do you remember what I told you about my sister Libby?”

“Yes. Is she still rotting in jail in Mexico for smuggling drugs?”

“Libby’s in a small prison in northern Brazil, not Mexico. The only way I can free her is with the money from the woman who promised to help me in exchange for this,” Holly said as her eyes glanced at my abdomen. “The money covers the price that the prison officials asked for. I need to get my sister out of that hellhole, and that woman has connections there.”

“Who is this woman? Who sold me to you, you fucking bitch?” I snarled.

“I can’t tell you. She wanted me to pass on a message. Keep away from Alistair Scott.”

“SCREW YOU!” I screamed, feeling my body shake.

“Honey, I had no choice. Please understand that Libby would die in that prison if I chose you over her.”

“Don’t ‘honey’ me, you fucking psycho. You messed with my reproductive rights. I hate you.”

“Vera, I’ve left a pamphlet with information on life after the surgery. You’re a healthy woman, so I think you’ll recover soon.”

“How can you call yourself a doctor, huh?”

Holly began to back away, shuffling toward the door. “I’m leaving the country to find my sister and get her out of jail, Vera.”

“Who paid you? How long have you pretended to be my friend and lover?” I slurred, slowly drifting into drowsiness.

Holly shook her head, refusing to reveal my enemy’s name. “My flight leaves this afternoon, so I’m going to leave you. I’m sorry, Vera.”

Sorry was not enough. It meant nothing to me.

Someone wanted me to live and suffer rather than die a quick death. If I were dead, I wouldn’t feel a thing, but being alive meant I would feel pain and loss. The woman who bought Holly’s soul was a vile and dangerous human being who committed a remorseless and ruthless crime. It had to be either Saira Quinn or Erin Everton-Scott.

I saw Saira once at the party where Jules was under her spell. I never forgot her tall, commanding frame and her pristine, ash-blonde hair. What scared me most was her soulless gray eyes, lacking any compassion. She had ears and eyes throughout the city, and I believed she knew I was the reason Alistair protected Julian.

As for Erin, she was a possessive bitch who wanted Alistair to herself. They shared a child, and her marriage to Oliver was fake. Maybe of all the women he’d slept with, she saw the emotional bond between us. She would do anything to eliminate her biggest threat… me.

Both women had power and money. Erin was the devil, and Saira liked to play God.

I made a full recovery under the care of Doctor Cheryl Cohen, a top obstetrician-gynecologist at Saint John’s Hospital. “I’m sorry to say this, but whoever performed the surgery on you did a botched job,” Doctor Cohen said.

“Am I going to be okay?” I asked, feeling doomed anxiety in my heart.

“You probably won’t be able to have children, Vera.”

“Ever?” I asked, feeling an explosion of emotions erupt from my gut to my throat.

“I want to promise you something more positive, but I can’t. I’m sorry. We may be able to look into possibilities later. Perhaps in vitro fertilization may be an option, but I can’t say IVF will work because there’s a lot of damage.”

My heart dropped to a new level of loss and depression, and my knees began to shake.

“Vera, you are a fit and healthy woman, and your body is making a remarkable recovery. There are no signs of infections.”

I was speechless. Not a word came out of my mouth as I stared out the window behind Doctor Cohen.

“We have an excellent psychologist and a support group at the hospital. They’re here to assist women who deal with infertility. Would you like me to refer you to them?”

“Yes, please,” I answered. I couldn’t get through this alone, and I needed help. The waves of helplessness crawled at my feet, soaking me with depression and anxiety. Feeling frail, I took some time off work to recover.

I wanted to know who did this to me, and I needed someone to support me. Saph was dealing with her own mental health issues, and although she wouldn’t admit it, I knew she couldn’t handle more problems. Nobody in my family understood my hell either.

I wanted justice—but I was scared for my life.

I wanted to go to the police, but Saira, and possibly Erin, because of her position as a Scott, had some control over the police department. There was only one person in the world whom I could trust. He had power in a society that could buy people. I took Alistair’s business card from my writing desk drawer, remembering I kept it there even after deleting his number. I needed him. Biting the bullet, I called him and waited for him to pick up. It rang out, so I sent a message.

I waited for fifteen minutes and rang again, but he didn’t take the call. About an hour later, I called for the third time. I wish I could say he took the call and came straight away. That he canceled his flight to wherever he planned to fly for his next trip, to be at my side. Alistair never answered his phone. He never responded to my messages.

I checked his social media profile and saw a photo of him on a cruise ship with another woman. He wore a tuxedo, and she looked flawless in a backless gown. The photo caption twisted a knife in my heart.

Alistair Scott has found his match. Beautiful actress Rebecca Ross has stolen his heart in the Caribbean. #couplegoals #lovecruise

I put my phone down and felt an overwhelming tidal wave rise in my throat. Kneeling on the floor, I felt sick with nausea and a blinding migraine. I was merely a toy in a rich boy’s playground, only to be tossed aside for something shinier and new.

I learned one thing: when you’re at your lowest point, you’re often alone. It was time to rise as a survivor and not remain a victim. I had done it after my ex Ace beat the shit out of me, punching blows into my gut and painfully ripping hair from my head. People tried to hurt my body, but they could not murder my spirit. Feeling the flames of anger and determination fire up inside me, I stood up. Rise, I heard the voice of hope whisper into my ear.

Get up and rise above this tempest of all storms.

Vera

Tuesday, February 14

“Great. Another fucking Valentine’s Day alone,” I cursed, glaring at the couple-filled café while Marvin Gaye crooned “What’s Going On” overhead as if it’s some kind of cosmic joke.

“It’s just a day, Vee. And you’re not alone.” Saph slid her warm hand over mine, her blue eyes sparkling like she was auditioning for a jewelry commercial.

I stared a second too long, imagining how easily I could undo the silk buttons of her blouse. Tempting, but I wasn’t about to hook up with Julian’s ex. That was one mess I wasn’t signing up for.

“You’ve been drowning in court cases. Nights, weekends, all of it,” she said, tilting her head. “I barely see you anymore.”

I forced a smile. “Sex is off the menu, and my mojo packed its bags. Case closed.”

“You’ll get it back,” she teased, inching closer. “Have you heard from Daddy Jim?”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Busy with the new grandbaby. His daughter and her partner just had a boy.”

Saph giggled. “Granddaddy Jim.”

“For someone with such a sweet face, you’ve got a filthy mind,” I said, grinning despite myself.

“I do not have a dirty mind,” she protested, then paused. “Well, maybe I’m a little dirty.”

“Mmm-hmm. You know Julian misses you,” I said, hiding a smile behind my coffee cup.

Saph’s eyes flicked up, blue and bright like a lightning strike. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. You’re the one who got away.” I gave her arm a quick pat.

“I’m seeing someone.” Her tone softened, almost guilty. “Raphael Thomas. It’s casual, more colleagues with benefits than anything else.”

I squinted. “Dark curls, hazel eyes? Law school hotshot?”

Her lips curved. “That’s him. Sexy as sin, mind of Zeus, body of Apollo.”

“Mm. Be careful. He’s got charm, but he’s shady.” I rolled my eyes, remembering. “Used to hijack every law lecture with his grandstanding. Ambitious prick. No surprise he jumped straight into politics.”

Saph shrugged, stirring her coffee. “It’s just sex and friendship. Not love. Nobody could ever replace Julian.”

I groaned. “For heaven’s sake, if you’re still in love with my brother, do something about it. He’d have you back in a heartbeat.”

Her breath eased out as she studied me. “I don’t see the old Vee anymore. What’s going on with you?”

I leaned back, exhaling hard, the truth heavy on my tongue. “I don’t think I can have kids.”

Saph froze, eyes wide, lashes catching the light. “What? Why?”

I didn’t want to scare Saph and tell her Saira was a vindictive bitch, so I said what she needed to know. “I underwent a tubal ligation procedure, and the doctor did a lousy job. It happened at the start of the year.”

Saph got up from her chair and wrapped her arms around me. “Sweetie, I wish you’d told me. I’d have been there for you. Did you have anyone to talk to?”

“I had a good doctor at Saint John’s Hospital, who helped me get through the worst. Saph…” I could barely string my words together as my chest heaved. I couldn’t talk about it.

“Oh, Vee.” Saph kissed my forehead.

“It hurts,” I admitted. “I get days when I feel like shit. I mean, I didn’t plan to have kids any time soon, but maybe one day…”

Saph’s eyes pierced mine. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she said, “I love you like a sister. Your wish will come true, and you don’t need to give birth to be a parent.”

“I know. I might become a foster parent or adopt a child. I already donate to an orphanage in a developing country.”

“See? There you go. You are a mother to these children.”

I took a tissue out of my handbag and dabbed my tearful eyes. “I could have a tubal ligation reversal, but my chances of having children are slim because of what the butcher surgeon did.”

“I am so sorry. Are you recovered and healthy?”

“Physically, yes. The doctor at Saint John’s said I was lucky that good health was on my side,” I whispered, tightening the grip of friendship on Saph’s hand, which held mine securely.

“If there’s anything you want me to do for you, let me know.”

I forced a smile. “I will.”

Saph and I bowed our heads, and our foreheads touched. She prayed to God for my body to be restored. I didn’t know if any of it would help, but the gesture was kind.

“Thank you, Saph,” I said after we shared a minute of silence.

“Look at us. We’re insane, right?” Saph laughed, shoving her phone at me. On the screen was a photo of us years back, all wild hair and reckless grins, before Alistair ever entered my orbit.

Did I regret meeting him? No. But if I ran into him now, on the street, at some glossy cocktail party, I couldn’t say if I’d stop or keep walking.

After coffee, I ducked into a convenience store. That’s when I saw it. Alistair’s face. Splashed across the glossy cover of a lifestyle magazine, his arm draped around the same woman I’d spotted months ago in that smug Caribbean cruise post.

Meet Alistair Scott’s new fiancée, actress Rebecca Ross.

Picking up the magazine, I flicked through the pages until I found the article about Alistair and Rebecca. They announced their engagement after a whirlwind romance on the cruise ship. She came into his life when I needed him most. “I’m hoping Alistair and I can start a family after the wedding,” Rebecca said in the article.

It hurt to see him with a woman who appeared unmarked by the misery of life’s injustices. The article revealed Rebecca planned an extravagant birthday bash for him on February seventeenth. I was not invited to the party. The man who was once my lover was getting married. How quickly men like Alistair moved on. Such is the bitterness of cruel love.

Alistair

Friday, February 24

“I don’t care what the report says. You will not launch any new technology without a successful field trial,” I barked at a colleague before abruptly ending the conversation.

Placing my cellphone in my trouser pocket, I walked out of the office and headed toward a market florist’s stall on the city’s riverside. I wanted to thank Rebecca for the birthday party she hosted for me last week. “How much are those tulips?” I asked the vendor, pointing at the most vibrant bunch of flowers on the stand.

“These? Oh, they’re⁠—”

A tall woman with caramel hair, sniffing a bouquet of roses at a nearby stall, caught my attention. I recognized Vera by her stance and how she rolled her hips to one side when she relaxed.

Roses. Vera always loved roses.

I watched her dark eyes look up as she gave an enigmatic smile to the street vendor. Her Mona Lisa visage radiated and affected the man, now grinning from ear to ear.

Sweetheart, I’ve missed you.

“Sir?”

“Huh?” I snapped back to the man talking to me. “No, sorry, maybe another day.”

My eyes were glued to the olive-skinned beauty, watching her every move and not wanting her to disappear into thin air. I marched as fast as I could to Vera, rushing past the crowd of passers-by who had finished work and headed in all directions toward the train station, bus stop, city mall, or the local bar.

“Vera.” My heart leapt at the sight of her, giving me palpitations. She had an incredible effect on my emotions. She looked around before our eyes met. At first, they were stone cold; then, they warmed up a little when she forced a smile.

“Alistair? Hey, fancy seeing you here. It’s been a while,” Vera greeted, placing her hands in her pockets. She stepped back when I leaned forward, hoping to kiss her cheek.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine. Isn’t it strange to still call me sweetheart?” Vera asked, lifting her left eyebrow.

“Why?” I demanded, furrowing my brows.

“You’re getting married,” she reminded me. She paused and bit her lip. Damn it, woman.

I placed my thumb on her lower lip, tracing its contour. “Are you trying to seduce a man who’s about to get married? It’s when you bite your lip, you see…”

“Scotty, you can’t do this. Cheaters aren’t my thing,” Vera said, and removed my thumb from her lip.

“I’m not cheating.”

“Well, you’ve moved on. Now, if you excuse me⁠—”

“I never forgot you,” I said. “You forgot me. You never called, not even once, to see how I was doing.”

“What?” Vera’s mouth fell open as her eyes widened. “I called you. I called you because I needed you, and you were the one person I could trust my life with.”

“You did?” I rubbed my brow.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Pulling her aside, I suggested, “Let’s walk along the riverside, away from the crowd.”

“Sure,” she agreed, shrugging her shoulders.

We sat on a bench staring at the ferries cruising up and down the river. Vera’s sweet scent floated in the breezy air like the petals of fresh frangipani flowers.

“How’s your brother?”

“He’s fine these days because Saira leaves him alone. How are you?”

“Terrible. I’ve been terrible without you,” I admitted, eyeing Vera’s smooth, toned shoulders as she leaned forward.

“Do you love her?” Vera asked, tilting her head to one side.

“Who?” I whispered, wishing I had never let Vera go so easily. That was my biggest mistake. My eyes were lost in my ex-lover’s presence.

“Rebecca.”

“No, I don’t love her. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the woman I need has moved on.”

“I called you after the New Year,” Vera protested. “I left messages, too.”

“I never heard from you.”

“It was on the night you met her on the cruise.”

I shook my head in disbelief and clasped my hands between my knees. I had to think about that night. I listened to my therapist’s advice to take a short vacation. However, I didn’t plan to meet Rebecca.

“The ship must have had poor reception,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair to both you and Rebecca that you’re marrying her, but you don’t love her?” Vera questioned, studying my face.

“I’m attracted to her, and the sex is great. She gives me something, and I give her something in return.”

“What, sex for money and fame? Are you helping her with her film career?”

I nodded, feeling ashamed in front of the lioness. “Love might develop over time, but I’ll have to forget about you first,” I said, touching a soft caramel curl that blew with the wind.

Vera flicked my hand away from her hair. “Leave and forget me.”

“I can’t.”

“I won’t be your mistress. I’m worth more.”

“My heart won’t let me forget you, sweetheart.”

“And when you make love to another woman?”

“I think of you… of us.”

Vera got up from the bench. “Julian taught me that we’re all like autumn leaves, turning into nothingness in our winter days.”

“Your brother is right, but it doesn’t stop me from needing you.”

“Mister Scott, it was nice seeing you, and I wish you all the best with your wedding. It’s at the end of next month, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Vera waved and walked away, but I couldn’t just let her go, so I sprang after her. “Vera, stop,” I begged, grabbing her hand.

She halted. “Alistair, you’re marrying another woman. It’s all or nothing for me. If you’re serious about what you say, then act on it. If not, then it’s time to say adieu.”

“So, that’s it?”

“Goodbye, Mister Scott.”