Descent From Grace: A Luxe Novella Book 1.5 (10 page)

That nickname sent a disgusted shiver through her and her eyes briefly closed, but she quickly smiled to redeem herself from the distaste. When she noticed him continuously rubbing his shoulder she finally got the hint he wanted her to massage him.

  “Are you tense?” Carefully, she placed her dainty hands to his shoulders. Leaning into his ear, she lied, saying, “You have very strong shoulders, Robert.” When her lip intentionally grazed the back of his ear, he inhaled.
  “You smell divine, Lil.”

The second she grimaced, he spun to her, but luckily pressed his nose into her neck and missed the sour expression on her face. Sharply inhaling from the twitch in her clit caused by his contact, she giggled. They flirted back and forth, but never stepped over any lines they couldn’t turn back from.

  “Let me rub your feet.” He had her ankle before she could agree or decline. When he pulled her shoe off, he observed her teal toenails from when she was in the Caribbean. “Black would be nicer,” he said, wrapping his hands around her foot.
  “If I would have known you were going to treat me to a foot massage, I would have done that.”
It seemed he strategically placed her foot in his lap while he massaged; his erection kept pressing into her instep. Subtly, she began rubbing her foot against him while his strong hands kneaded her feet. After five minutes, he let her foot go and leaned back onto his hands to let her stroke his cock through his pants with the appendage she’d been working so well. No idea what she was doing, she managed steady movement and he seemed to enjoy it. The lewd act was turning her on and the pulsing between her legs ached for her to satiate it. It only took seven minutes for him to orgasm from her rubbing foot. His brows furrowed and he let out a quiet moan. Giggling, she lowered her foot, sliding it back into her shoe.

  “I won’t make you pay for that.” Biting her lip, she winked and he laughed.
Quickly standing, he told her, “I need to clean up,” before exiting the curtain.

The pull between her legs was so intense she couldn’t ignore it, and unable to stop her own hand, she slid it between her thighs, opening her legs wider. Exploring her swollen clit through her panties, she didn’t see the waiter enter to her left. Upon opening her eyes after riding out a silent orgasm, the gawking waiter was the first thing she saw as he rushed out of the curtained off area. Lilith gasped then put her hand over her mouth to quiet the laughter she couldn’t hold back.

When Robert returned, Lilith grinned and stood. “It’s been closer to four hours,” she said while looking at her phone.

When they arrived to the hotel, he looked at her. “Nightcap?”
  “Not tonight. I hope to see you when you’re in town again.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  “Where to, Lily?” Tony asked, pulling into traffic.

Responding, “Home please,” she pulled her phone out.

MY FREYJA:
Heading home. I love you

Knowing Karen had Ian to herself that night, she slowly grew enraged. Broken dishes from her paroxysm kept her up past two; she didn’t want to leave a trace of her fit.

When Ian got Lilith’s text in the morning, he bit his lip until it slipped into a grin from her three simple words.

Finally She could hope for a better day

The sun is waking me up and I don’t even think it’s eight yet. I don’t want to get up, I was up too late. I need darker fucking curtains! I ball my fists and slam my arms into the mattress like a fit throwing teenager and groan. This is my second fit of frustration within ten hours.

Finally opening my eyes, I’m immediately full of anger and hate and it’s only increasing as I sit upright and look around. This is insane, I need to see a fucking doctor.

I begin to wonder if I hate this condo and maybe don’t realize it. Do I hate Ian? Do I hate myself for what I agreed to? Do I hate this huge rock on my finger? No! I laugh out loud and get out of bed. Now I smile because maybe I’m not going to have a terrible day. My anger has subsided after my laughter and I take a deep breath, deciding today will be a good day. As I walk into the bathroom, I stub my toe on the clunky high heel I wore last night.

  “Shit!” It fucking hurts so goddam bad!

With a frustrated squeal, I slam the bathroom door closed; no one else is here, I could have peed with the door open, but I wanted to slam something. Resting my elbows on my knees while I sit on the toilet, I put my face into my hands and sit like this for ten minutes; I’m not even using the toilet, I just don’t want to move.

  “Shit,” I groan, standing and pulling my shorts up.

Pulling up my shirt, I roll my eyes at the faded cuts. I haven’t had the urge to cut in over a week, but I haven’t seen Ian either and I know once I’m faced with some sort of insecurity, I’m going to lose my mind. Last night wasn’t insecurity, last night was detest that another woman’s hands were probably on the man I’m supposed to marry.

I grab my cellphone and search local physicians. I need to get on depression pills, anxiety pills, energy pills, anything they’ll give me before I lose Ian.

  “When were you looking to come in?” the receptionist asks me.

  “As soon as possible,” I say, leaning on the counter. I don’t think I’ve stood up straight since getting out of bed.
  “I can get you in today at three.”
  “Oh.” I didn’t expect it to be that soon.
  “I had a cancellation this morning. If you’d like, I’ll book it for late next week. That’s the next availability.”
  “No,” I say quickly. “Today’s fine. Thank you.”
  “Arrive fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork, and bring your insurance card with ID.”
  “Thank you,” I repeat as fear fills my gut.

Am I ready to face the diagnosis of being crazy, or depressed, or bipolar, whatever? Shit, maybe I should call her back and schedule it for next week. I can’t, I
need
to face this now and get on pills now before I lose Ian.

It’s been days since I’ve actually dressed, and I don’t mean like last night; last night I was forced into wearing that. I’ve been in a bikini while in Florida—or a sheet—and prior to going, I was in lounging clothes. It feels good slipping into a tight, navy blue sailor dress. I’ve really grown to appreciate dressing like I’m somebody. After sliding on matching blue heals, I do my makeup. As I color my eyelids with a soft gray the image of my mother is disappearing and I’m getting more comfortable staring into the mirror. Finally my lipstick and I feel amazing, best I’ve felt in a few days. Maybe I
can
cancel this appointment. . . . Maybe I just need to get back into the routine of dressing every morning and doing my makeup and hair and feeling like I matter in this world. Both my jobs require me to be and wear something that’s not me. I’m usually naked with Ashley and having to pretend I’m some headstrong, captivating muse—that I’m definitely not. And my attire for Luxe is dictated by other people. Men, ignorant, perverted men. I need anxiety pills.

***

  “Ms. Tudor,” the girl behind the glass calls my name and holds out a clipboard.

With an ‘I’m not crazy’ smile, I sit back down to fill out paperwork, wishing I could have went to my gynecologist. But being I don’t know if she can prescribe depression meds, I’m in a foreign office and going to have to admit to a stranger I’m going crazy. I almost leave three times because I’ve already been waiting fifteen minutes and the longer I wait, the more I want to pretend there isn’t a problem.

  “Lilith Tudor.” A male nurse calls my name. I stand, clutching my purse tightly.

He takes my temperature then blood pressure. This part’s no big deal, this I can do. Then he asks why I’m here. I imagine telling him because I’m crazy.

  “Anxiety,” I say and he nods, typing into the computer jutting from the wall.

  “Dr. Byrne will be right in.” He smiles at me, but I can’t even look at him. I don’t even know what he looks like and I don’t want him to remember my face.

Nervousness is turning my stomach again. My biggest apprehension is being told, ‘yes, Lily, you are crazy’.

When the doctor cracks the door, I jump, but she doesn’t notice.

  “Hi, Lily, I’m Dr. Byrne.” She shakes my hand with a beaming smile. “What brings you in today?”
  “Um.” Nervous enough to vomit, I stare at the pen in her lab coat. “I’m slowly becoming more irritable, I’m feeling very depressed, terrible mood swings. I just don’t think I’m happy and there’s nothing I can think of to change in my life to fix this. I think it may be more of a chemical imbalance.” That was the biggest load of shit I’ve ever lied! If I eliminate the insane people around me and go back to sweet, precious, boring Lilith. . . .

*LUXE*

The doctor listened intently, then asked about family history. Lilith had to admit to the doctor that her mother left them and that was when her life altered. She didn’t disclose that she cut herself, but she expressed she needed to feel some sort of relief from her anxiety. 

  “And then I met my boyfriend and that kind of subsided, but it’s recently back and worse than before.”
  “Do you feel like you want to hurt yourself?”
Lilith’s eyes shot to hers. “I think so,” she said almost in a whisper.

  “Okay, I want you to fill out some paperwork, but today I’m going to prescribe you Xanax and we’ll see if this helps with the anxiety. Just give me a minute, okay?”
  “Yeah, sure,” Lilith muttered, watching her exit.

  “Ms. Tudor?” A knock came over the door and the male nurse stepped in. “I need a urine sample and the doc’s filling out your script.” He held out a cup then showed her to the bathroom.

She washed her hands and looked in the mirror. “Breathe, you idiot, she didn’t say you’re a nut job.”

Going back to the room, she began to feel a little better because the first step was done. She was seeking help.

With a soft knock, the doctor entered. “Here’s the script for Xanax. You take one pill when you feel a panic attack coming on. It’ll take about twenty minutes, but it’ll help. Do you think you could find a quiet place for twenty minutes?”

Lilith slowly nodded, wondering if she could find a quiet place from herself.

  “I’d say wake and take one but we don’t want to drug you if we don’t need to. The paperwork I’m going to send home with you today, you should fill it out over a week. This is a mental health determination form. These are all your personal opinions. You said your dad wasn’t on depression pills so we don’t want to jump the gun and start feeding you a trough of pills.” She chuckled.

There was a knock at the door. “Dr. Byrne,” the male nurse called her out of the room.

Lilith stared at the script and began to feel confident the drugs would help.

  “Lilith.” The doctor walked in, looking at her clipboard, then brought her eyes to Lilith’s. “You’re pregnant. Did you know that?”

It didn’t register; Lilith stared blankly at her.

  “Lily?”
  “What?” she managed to say.
  “You’re pregnant.” The doctor smiled wide.

The sudden spinning of the room had Lilith holding the edge of the examining table tightly, not to fall off.

  “Did you just start these birth control pills?” Dr. Byrne looked at Lilith’s chart that she filled out with outdated information. Lilith jumped off the table and grabbed the counter, lightheaded. “Whoa. Okay, have a seat, Lily. I don’t need you hurting yourself. You have another life to look out for now.” She chuckled.

That wasn’t humorous, cute, exciting, or evoke any emotion that caused happiness. Lilith pushed past the doctor to get out of the room.

  “Lily!” she called out.

Without looking back, she pushed her way out the door into the waiting room, then stammered out into the parking lot. Reaching into her purse, she pulled keys out and got in. She was driving before she realized she left her coat and cellphone in the office. Thought wasn’t registering. It was like the words ‘you’re pregnant’ were used for zombie inducing hypnosis. Do what was familiar.

By the time she made it to the plaza, she was in tunnel vision and parked in a handicapped spot in the parking structure. Her blue heals echoed off the cement walls as she ran toward the building. She blew through the lobby, and the full elevator was making it harder to breathe. Her trembling hands hurt from shaking so fiercely and the pain in her chest went all the way up her esophagus, making her want to throw up. Stepping off the elevator, she rounded the corner, ignoring the women at the desk and beelined for the hallway leading to Ian’s office. 
  “Excuse me!” Karen called out, slowly standing in confusion.

Not hearing her or seeing her, Lilith kept going.

  “Hey! Excuse me!” Karen yelled as Lilith rounded the corner, practically running. “Stop her!” Karen bitched at Tash.

Lilith pushed open Ian’s office door and there was a woman sitting in the chair in front of his desk.
  “Lily!” Her name left his lips in a startle, then he stood in confusion.

She was gray in color and sweat beads glazed her forehead. Her wide eyes were dark and muddled, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeable, and her restricted breathing was audible. 

  “Um, Ms.,” Tash called out, stepping into Ian’s office. “I couldn’t stop her,” she apologetically said to Ian.