An Illicit Pursuit (28 page)

“She didn’t know about your wedding. I
thought she knew and commented how well she was taking the news
about it. She didn’t believe me and just ran out of the office. The
next thing I heard was the accident.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean she wanted to kill
herself,” I insist.

“Yeah, but the doctor said she was heavily
intoxicated while driving.”

She might well have intended to kill herself.
I should have talked to her in person about my intentions to marry
Taylor, before she learned about it from someone else. More
importantly, I shouldn’t have cut her out of my life completely.
Her reaction, however dangerous it might have been for her and
others, was completely understandable. God knows what I’d have done
if Taylor wanted to marry someone else.

“Everything is your goddamn fault,” Zachary
growls, his hand still glued to Pat’s. “You dropped her like she
was a piece of dirt. You didn’t care how much she suffered and the
trauma she went through, but just picked your next victim.”

Hearing my thoughts from someone else’s mouth
is like a bullet in my chest, only more excruciating. Although I
deserve each word he’s said, I don’t know if I can handle more
verbal harassment from him or anyone else, so I run away.

I wish I can run away from my reproachful
thoughts, too.

My phone buzzes in the pocket of my jacket,
and I realize I’m in the men’s room. How the hell have I gotten in
here? I grab the phone and glance at the screen. It’s Taylor.

“Taylor, love. I’m so sorry. I had to leave
immediately.”

“Is she all right?” Her voice comes out as a
husky whisper, proof of her recent crying. “I just heard it from
the news. I thought you just left.”

“For god’s sake. Why would you have thought
that? I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. I left two
messages to Adriana’s cell. Hasn’t she talked to you?”

“No.”

Fucking Adriana. Trying to sabotage my
wedding even when it’s been already ruined. “Pat’s manager called
me right before I was heading out for the altar. She said Pat was
seriously injured in a car accident. The doctor says she’s stable
now, but she hasn’t woken up yet. Where are you?”

“I came back to LA. I couldn’t stay on the
ship, knowing I was dumped at the altar. I thought you’d finally
realized how stupid it was to marry your best friend’s wife.”

“What the fuck, Taylor? Are you serious?
After all the years I’ve been begging you to be with me, how can
you think that of me? I love you more than my entire existence.
That’s why Pat is here today. She learned about our wedding just
yesterday, drank to the point of intoxication, and got behind the
wheel. She would be healthy, happy, and safe, and not covered by
bandages if I could have continued loving her the way I used to.
You just stole my heart away permanently and still you have doubts
about my love?”

I hear sobs. Of course she’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” I say and rest my back against
the wall. “I shouldn’t have… Argh. I regret doing many things in
life, but I’ll never regret what we have. Please, don’t cry. I’d
drive to LA and marry you today to keep my promise, but I want to
apologize to Pat when she wakes up. Just don’t be upset with
me.”

“I’m not upset with you at all. I’m crying
because of your beautiful words. I love you, Adam. More than you
give me credit for, and I’ll pray for Pat’s recovery.”

“I know you will, love.”

I hear the line go dead and slip the phone
back into my pocket. I find Zachary and Miranda sitting silently in
the waiting room. We wait for another two hours until a nurse
informs us that Pat is awake. Zachary and I burst into her room at
the same time, followed by Miranda, who’s both in tears and
hysterically laughing.

Pat’s tired eyes glide from Zachary to me
then land back on Zachary. She opens her mouth, yet no words come
out, only a hoarse moan. After a brief attempt to clear her throat,
her mouth slides open again with just one word. “Zach?”

I can’t say I’m upset by her choice.

Zachary takes cautious steps toward her and
grabs her hand. “I’m here, baby.”

Baby!
Isn’t he maybe a little too
married to call another woman
“Baby?”
They share some
intense exchange that I wish I hadn’t been exposed to.

“Pat,” I say, hoping to break their spell.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t apologize properly for ending things
between us the way I did. I wish there was a way to make it right
again. I care about you and,” I’m interrupted by a hand Zachary is
raising.

“Keep your empty words to yourself. She’s in
no condition to hear more lies coming out of your filthy mouth,” he
says.

I don’t bother to look at his face. My eyes
are locked on Pat, but I don’t see the reaction I was hoping in
those faint, blue eyes. She looks distant, agonized, and somehow
unfamiliar. And, worse, she doesn’t say a word, or order Zachary to
calm down. I guess I’ll never be forgiven. Swallowing hard, I spin
around to head toward the exit.

Zach is here, holding my hand for the first
time after so many years that I’ve forgotten how safe and
comfortable it feels to have my hand snuggle inside his. If my ears
haven’t been fooling me, he’s just called me
baby
like he
used to do.

His voice is so comforting and loving, I can
melt into a puddle. I realize, just like that, he’s always been the
love of my life. The true ruler of my heart. Not even my corrupt
feelings for Adam can change this discovery. In fact, every other
emotion that popped up in my heart until this day was because of my
repressed love for Zachary.

Oh, how I wish we could be together.

I watch his lips moving, saying several words
that I can’t piece together. I notice his normally loving eyes are
full of hatred and directed toward Adam. I roll my head on the
pillow to look at Adam. His expression is tense and of misery and
desperation. I know that face all too well from the last weeks we
were together. Only recently, I found out he was head-over-heels in
love with Jack’s wife.

And suddenly, another realization strikes me.
I’m not mad at him anymore. I don’t actually feel anything for him.
Must be Zachary’s hand, touching the depths of my soul and
relieving me of my confusion and anger.

After a long stare, Adam swings around and
runs for the door. I don’t understand why he won’t stay, so I call
after him. He comes back as quickly as he exited.

“Thanks for the visit,” I manage to utter. My
lips are limp, so is my entire body.

Adam shakes his head. “Please, Pat, please. I
need you to forgive me. I know I’ve been a selfish asshole and not
man enough to give you the kind of respect you deserved, but I
can’t continue living like this. Seeing you suffering because of me
is killing me.”

“Did you marry her?” I ask; I don’t know
why.

He shakes his head again, his face all the
more tormented. And I see. I finally see he and I weren’t meant to
be together from the start. He might have loved me, and I might
have had some strange feelings for him, but it was never the same,
deeply rooted connection I had with Zach. I shouldn’t be mad at
Adam for finding the love of his life, while mine is sitting beside
me.

“You’re forgiven.” I force my lips into a
smile.

He walks around the bed and leans down to
give me a kiss on the forehead. “You’re one of a kind. You know
it?”

“Hey,” Zach growls and tightens his hand
around mine. I can’t help but chuckle. Is he being jealous of
Adam’s innocent kiss?

The two men glare at each other for a moment.
I’d have laughed heartily if I had the energy. Finally Adam breaks
their cock fight and waves goodbye before leaving.

“Pat, the love of my life,” Zach says, his
face all soft and tender again, his voice like soothing ocean
waves. “You deserve better than that. He’s no good for you. You’ve
got to get over him.”

He still loves me and doesn’t even bother to
hide it. I wonder whether he’s finally found happiness with his
wife and if he has kids. But, I’m too tired to speak or move. My
heavy eyelids fall like dark curtains, while my ears are filled
with Zach’s sweet, gentle voice.

Next time I wake up, the room is dark, and I
find Zach sleeping with his head on my bed and his hand relaxed on
mine. My hand moves involuntarily, and he jerks awake.

“Are you thirsty?”

“A little.”

He pours water into a plastic cup and helps
me raise my head to drink. The cold water slides down my throat
easily.

“How long have I slept?”

He slips the sleeve of his jacket to glance
at his watch. “Seven hours.”

“You’ve been here all this time?”

“Yes, and whether you want it or not, I’ll
never leave.”

“What does that mean?”

“I made the mistake of letting you go once.
I’ll never do it again.”

“But your wife?”

He scowls as if I’ve just told him he’s
covered in mud or something else completely absurd. “There’s no
wife. I’ve never married. Why do you think I’d have a wife?”

“The last time I saw you, you told me about a
sweet girl whom you’d marry and have children with. Didn’t you
marry her?”

A shy smile curls up his lips. “No. I just
couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Do I have to spell it out?” I nod, and he
continues, “Because I loved you and I still do, just as much as
when we were together, maybe even more.”

I turn my face to the opposite side. His
confession of love doesn’t make me feel good this time. “You can’t
love me.”

He descends to kiss the back of my hand. “But
I do. Nothing can change that fact.”

I really doubt it. In a normal situation, I’d
keep my secret to myself, however, now it’s time to come clean of
my sins and tell him what really happened, even if it means he’ll
hate me forever. There’s no easy way to explain it, so I just go
for the briefest route. “You remember the last times we had sex, we
didn’t use condoms?”

He nods. The pain of my imminent words stings
like needles. I bite my lower lip, still hesitant about my
confession. “I got pregnant. But, I chose to abort it because there
was no way I could take care of it myself.” I can’t use the word
baby, for it makes my wrong all the more depraved.

First, he stares at me, frozen, without even
blinking, then he springs to his feet and shouts, “What? What did
you just say? You aborted my child because you thought what?” He
runs his hands through his hair. His yarmulke slides down to the
floor, but he ignores it and instead strides back and forth in the
room, sighing loudly. “Did you really do that to me? To our child?
Why? I loved you. I wanted to marry you.” He stops short in front
of my bed, his eyes drilling holes in my face. “Because of
Adam?”

“He wasn’t the reason. No way. I just didn’t
want you to break your promise to your father.”

“What promise?” he yells. It seems he’ll just
keep on yelling at me.

“The promise you gave to him the day he died.
That you’d cherish your Jewish roots and marry a Jewish girl. Your
mother told me about it the last time I saw you in Denver.”

He shakes his head, deep lines creasing his
forehead. “I didn’t give any promise like that. My father knew I
loved you. He’d never ask me to give you up. He might have been a
devoted Jew but never belittled my feelings for you.”

“But, your mother said…”

“Are you sure you understood her right? I
never promised anyone I’d marry a Jewish girl. Ever.”

“But, she said you did. She made me leave you
so you could honor your promise to your father. I didn’t want you
to live with a guilty conscious for the rest of your life for not
being able to hold the promise you gave to your father on his
deathbed.”

“Is that why you killed my child? So I can
live a guilt-free life?”

I nod, unable to do anything else, then watch
him stride out of the room. The drugs must have numbed my emotions,
too, because I can’t find it in me to cry.

Somehow, spilling my guts about the abortion
has the magical power of alienating all the men in my life within
seconds of hearing it. Even Zach, with his true love and devotion
for me, couldn’t stand to stay in the same room with me after
finding out the ugly truth about my past.

I remain awake in the dark, the thoughts of
my dead child filling my mind again. I’m living the curse of
letting him go, and it looks like the curse will never disappear.
I’m doomed for a life of loneliness, without my baby or Zach.

He’d be six now, starting school in a few
months. God, I will never find out its gender or how it’d look in
bright clothes, with his backpack filled with his books, kissing
his mommy goodbye before leaving for school. A tear pushes its way
out, followed by others.

“Forgive me, my child,” I whisper, tasting
the salty tears. “I wish I could have you back. I’d never ask for
anything else.”

Adriana comes for a visit the next morning,
filling my room with all sorts of flowers. Miranda is on her feet,
walking up and down the floor, never ceasing her talk on the phone.
The media seems to have a special interest in my sorrow, and
Miranda is using it to set up interviews and photo shoots for me to
cash in on more money. As if I needed more.

Adam is gone for good, and Zach must be
brewing with hatred for me. I’m no good for any man. I don’t even
know why I’m staying in the hospital. There’s nothing I’m looking
forward to enough to will my health back.

In the afternoon, Adriana tells me, with an
apologetic look on her face, Adam and Taylor got married at city
hall in LA a few hours ago, as though it was her fault. My eyes
sweep her up and down, and land on her belly. Somehow it seems
larger than usual.

I squint then look up at her. “Are you
pregnant?” Again?