Illusions of Love (63 page)

India
shook her head, those tears that she’d never quite managed to cry all day now falling freely down her face.
 
‘How dare you.
 
How fucking dare you…’

‘Okay, that’s enough, Reece,’ Kenny said, jumping up and pulling
India
away from her father.
 
‘That’s enough.
 
Everyone’s upset, so let’s just calm down, alright?’

‘I don’t want him near me, Kenny.’

‘You’re upset,
India
…’

She swung round to face her father again, a mixture of anger and fear and confusion taking over.
 
‘Yes, I’m fucking upset.
 
What would you like me to be feeling, huh?
 
Would you like me to be angry that he’s not dead, or pleased that this has happened to him because it’s the least he deserves?
 
Is that what you want me to feel?
 
Because I don’t, okay?
 
I don’t feel any of that.
 
In fact, I’ll tell you what I’m feeling.
 
I feel a pain ripping me apart inside, a pain that I can’t even begin to describe, and it hurts.
 
It hurts like hell… I loved him so fucking much, y’know?
 
I loved that man like I’ve never loved anyone before…’

‘Like you’ll never love anyone again?’

She swung round to see Dominic standing there, his hands in his pockets, his dark hair all dishevelled, but those blue eyes so like his father’s still shone from a face that was so obviously tired.

‘He wants to see you,’ Dominic went on, not waiting for
India
to answer his question.

She stared at him.
 
‘You… you’ve seen him?’

Dominic nodded.
 
‘I’m his son, aren’t I?’

‘I… How... how is he?’

‘He’s asking for you so, why don’t you go see for yourself?’

‘What… what about Layla?’

‘She’s gone back to the villa to get changed.’

‘Dominic…’

‘Like I said,
India
.
 
He’s asking for you.’

She almost ran off in the direction of Michael’s room, stopping only to take a deep breath before she pushed open the door, the sight and sound of the machines surrounding him bringing back the still-so-vivid memories of her brother.
 
Of a death she’d never quite gotten over, even after all these years.
 
And her biggest fear had been that she was going to have to deal with losing Michael too, and she wasn’t ready for that.
 
She really wasn’t ready.

But, propped up against the pillows, he looked okay.
 
A bit tired, maybe, but he looked okay.
 
He looked fine.
 
Various wires were attached to his chest to monitor his heart and there was a drip in his arm, but, apart from that, he looked just like Michael.
 
A little older, maybe, a little more worn down – but he looked like Michael.

‘You look remarkably well, for a man who’s just had one hell of a wake-up call,’ she said, walking over to the bed.

He smiled – that smile that had made her so happy.
 
Once upon a time.
 
‘It’ll take more than a crappy heart attack to keep
me
down, honey.
 
I’m not quite ready to be written off just yet.’

She folded her arms, trying hard to give him a convincing smile.
 
‘How are you feeling?’

‘A bit tired, y’know?
 
Kinda feel as though someone’s driven a truck over my chest, but…’
 
He looked at her, and
India
felt more tears start to spill down her cheeks, tears that she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand.
 
‘You look incredible,
India
.’

She couldn’t help laughing.
 
‘Don’t talk shit, Michael.
 
I look like crap, thanks to you.’

He held out his hand and she paused for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand, running her fingers over it.

‘I was scared, Michael.
 
The thought of losing you…’

‘You’ll never lose me,
India
.
 
That’s never gonna happen, baby.’

She looked at him, really looked at him.
 
He was still so handsome, still carried that slightly quirky look that had made him who he was in
Hollywood
; he still had those eyes…

‘Dominic, he… he said he’d been in to see you.’

Michael squeezed her hand.
 
‘Yeah.
 
He’s been in.
 
He’s a good-looking kid, my grown-up son.’

‘What happened?
 
I mean, you guys…
 
Have you…?’

‘Have we what?
 
Talked things over?
 
Had a father/son heart-to-heart?
 
Not quite.
 
Not really the time, is it?
 
But things like this… well; they seem to put things into some kind of perspective, don’t they?’
 
Michael looked right into her eyes.
 
‘Do you love him,
India
?’

She turned away for a second, still holding onto his hand.
 
‘I don’t know.’
 
She looked at him again, taking in every tired inch of a face she’d loved more than she’d ever cared to admit.
 
Did she still love him now?
 
Maybe she’d never really stopped, maybe she never really would.
 
Maybe she was always destined to love this man and it was just something she was going to have to deal with for the rest of her life.

‘Because he sure as hell loves
you
.’

‘Michael…’

He reached out to touch her face, stroking it gently, making her cry again, silent tears that just kept coming, faster than he could wipe them away.

‘How do we always end up here, Michael?
 
How do we always end up in this ridiculous, emotional wreckage of a relationship?
 
It’s so bloody exhausting.’

‘I will always –
always
– love you,
India
.
 
You know that, don’t you?’

She nodded, turning sharply as the door opened and Layla walked back in.
 
She looked tired and upset, her pretty face devoid of any make-up, her arms folded against her in an almost defensive manner.
 
Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt she looked so young and frightened – she looked like a woman who’d feared she might lose the man she loved with all of her heart.
 
And
India
knew exactly how she felt.

Letting go of Michael’s hand
India
got up off the bed, smiling at him, wiping away the last of her tears with the back of her hand.
 
‘I’ll see you later, okay?’

‘You don’t have to go,’ he said, looking over at Layla who just stood in the doorway, watching them.

‘Yeah.
 
I think I do, Michael.
 
You and Layla, you need some time.’

‘
India
…’

‘Later,’ she smiled again, if only to hide the sudden, unexpected pain she felt as she started to walk away from him.

Layla watched her every movement, waiting until she was right beside her and as she turned to speak her voice was quiet, but determined.
 
‘Leave him alone,
India
.
 
Please.
 
Leave him alone, and let
me
take over.
 
You’ve had him for far too long and I… I need to start feeling as though he can really be mine.
 
Do you understand that?’

India
nodded, saying nothing.
 
What
could
she say?
 
She gave Layla’s hand a quick squeeze before walking back out into the corridor, hoping that would let Layla know that she was stepping back now.
 
Even though it hurt, and
India
hadn’t expected it to hurt.
 
Not quite so much.

‘Everything alright?’ Reece asked as soon as she emerged from the room, but
India
ignored him, walking straight past him.

‘
India
!’ Kenny said, jumping up and running after her.

‘I just need some time, okay?’
 
She turned to look at Kenny.
 
‘Please.
 
I just need some time.’

‘Are you gonna be alright?’

‘I’m forty-three-years-old, Kenny.
 
I’m not a child.
 
I’ll be fine.
 
Today’s just been a shock, that’s all.’

India
, look… your dad…’

‘Like I said, Kenny.
 
I just need some time.’

She wandered outside to a private courtyard within the hospital grounds.
 
Although, it was hard to call it private when it was surrounded by security, but they were very necessary, under the circumstances.
 
She knew the press and paparazzi were swarming around outside, trying to get news of Michael’s condition, trying to get anything they could from anyone they could, be that a quote or a picture, anything that would fill that front page or headline the showbiz news.
 
So for once she was pleased that security were hanging around in large numbers.
 
She didn’t feel much like being the spokesperson for this particular crisis.

Leaning back against the wall she closed her eyes for a few seconds, thinking about what she was going to tell Ethan when she called him later.
 
It hadn’t been all that long since her beautiful little boy had had to deal with the prospect of almost losing his mum, and now she had to tell him something had happened to his daddy.
 
Couldn’t anything ever be simple in her life anymore?

‘Want some company?’

She looked up to see Vince standing in front of her.
 
He seemed drained, more tired than she’d ever seen him look before, and that shocked
India
slightly because Vince Maine could usually cope with anything.
 
It took a lot to get him down.
 
He was everybody’s rock, the one people turned to when things were on the verge of turning to crap.
 
But today he looked almost defeated, and something told
India
that this wasn’t just down to the fact his best friend had almost died.

She reached out and hugged Vince tight, shocked to find him suddenly breaking down in tears in her arms; something she’d never, ever seen this strong, almost stoic man do before.
 
‘Vince?
 
Hey, come on…’

They sat down on one of the benches, Vince looking away from her as he tried to quickly compose himself.
 
He’d never had a morning like it.
 
He’d started the day by finding his wife in bed with Kenny Ross and then, completely out of the blue, he was hit with the news that his best friend had suffered a heart attack.
 
All in the space of a couple of hours.

‘Vince?
 
Do you want to tell me what’s going on?
 
Because I’ve known you long enough to know that this isn’t just about Michael.
 
You can cope with that, I know you can.
 
So, what’s happened?
 
Is it Charley?’

He couldn’t help but let out one of those cynical laughs, throwing his head back as he stared at the clear blue cloudless sky above him.

‘Is it Charley…’
 
He looked at
India
.
 
‘I found her in bed this morning – in
our
bed – with Kenny.
 
My wife – and Kenny Ross.’

India
felt her stomach sink.
 
Kenny had promised her it wouldn’t happen again, he’d promised her.
 
What the hell had they been playing at?

‘Oh, Jesus, Vince.
 
I don’t know what to say…’

He shrugged.
 
‘What
can
you say?’
 
He sat forward, pushing his hands through his rapidly greying hair, sighing heavily.
 
‘This whole fucking Jimmy Cash business – it threw them together, didn’t it?’

India
looked at him, slightly confused.

‘That’s what she said,
India
.
 
She said she could talk to Kenny… but she couldn’t talk to me.
 
Shit!’
 
He stood up, pacing the floor in front of the bench.
 
‘How am I supposed to deal with this, huh?
 
How am I supposed to forget what I saw?
 
Jesus, I love her so fucking much…’