Surrender to Me (9 page)

Chapter 10

Hopeless

O
n the way back to
the hotel I am lost in thought, as all I can see is Jasper’s hatred for me. It
was evident on his face, and clear as day in his eyes. How did we go from being
madly in love to this, this hatred? I know how, I just don't want to face the
truth.

With a hand braced on the doorknob, I take a deep reassuring breath
before facing Harper. Putting on my best attempt of a smile, I open the door to
see Harper on the phone. He is seated at the wooden desk, paperwork strewn everywhere.

Tiptoeing over to his desk to give him a hug hello, he stops me by
holding up two fingers, signalling he's busy. I should know by now, business
before pleasure. So giving him a half smile, I stroll into the bathroom to
freshen up.

Stripping out of my clothes, I turn on the water to hot, and
stepping under the massaging showerhead feels like heaven. The water spray is
like tiny fingers kneading out my knots, and the scorching temperature is
coloring my skin a tinge of pink. It feels good to be washing away the memories
of tonight’s debacle.

Seeing Jasper has brought up so many feelings, and I don't know if
those feelings are of a good or bad nature. I would be a liar if I didn't
confess, that seeing him look at me with such hatred didn't hurt. But what does
that matter? I've made my choice, and that choice is marrying Harper. Why does
that decision leave a sour taste in my mouth all of a sudden?

“Darling?” I hear over the running water.

I don't know how long I've been in the shower for, but judging by
the steam room I've created, long enough. Fuzzily seeing Harper’s form through
the mist, I wipe down the glass shower screen to get a better view of my
fiancée.

Dressed in his black tailored slacks and a white business shirt,
which has the first two buttons unfastened, I can't deny he is an attractive
man, but he’s not him. Ugh, I internally groan, barely ceasing from banging my
head repeatedly against the glass screen. I hate standing here, naked in front
of him all of a sudden, as I feel so exposed.

“Hi Harper,” I reply as I attempt to cover my body from his
predatory gaze by crossing my legs, and wrapping an arm around my breasts.

He has seen me naked, but I feel somewhat shy being so exposed under
these bright lights, illuminating all my lady parts.

Harper lets out a small chuckle as he witnesses my discomfort. “I’ve
seen you naked before.”

“I know, I just... it’s just really bright in here and probably very
unflattering.”

Lathering up a crazy amount of Jasmine bodywash, I cover myself in a
thick white soap, ensuring all my bits and pieces are covered from his sharp
eyes.

Harper only shakes his head in amusement as he says,
“I have to pop out for an hour or so.”

Before I have time to question him of his whereabouts, he adds, “I
just wanted to ask how tonight went.”

I quickly turn my back to wash off the soapsuds, and to hide my face
from Harper’s insightful gaze.

“It went fine.”

“Did you get everything you needed sorted?”

Biting my cheek because I don’t want to be having this conversation,
I vaguely reply, “Yup, all good.”

“How are the wedding preparations going?”

Ducking my head under the water in attempts to muffle his
interrogation is pointless, as I can still hear him prompting me for an answer.

“Ava?”

“Sorry, what? I didn't hear you.”

My eyes are closed as I am applying shampoo into my hair, hoping
Harper will let up with the twenty questions.

“I asked how the wedding preparations are going.”

Opening my eyes, I see him awaiting a response, so I reply, “Yeah,
they are going well. You know V, little Miss Bossy, ordering everyone around.
My dress is simply beautiful.”

Harper folds his arms over his broad chest and raises an inquisitive
brow. “Did you find out who you're to be partnered up with?”

And that's the question I have been dreading.

I quickly duck my head under the spray. “Sorry Harper, what did you
say?” I yell, in hopes of fooling him.

“Ava, don't be daft, it's very unbecoming.”

I choose to ignore him in hopes he leaves me be.

“Ava, I know you can hear me, but I am running late, so we will
continue this conversation when your hearing isn't so selective. Don't wait
up.”

When the bathroom door shuts loudly, I let out the breath I was
unintentionally holding in. I know it's unfair to evade Harper, but I need time
to get my head around this whole situation, before I go telling my future
husband I am to be partnered up with my ex-boyfriend. When did this situation
get so fucked up? Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself off quickly, because
all I want to do is crawl under the covers, and slip into a deep coma.

As I dress in my cotton PJs, all but salivating at the comfy bed, I
observe a note sitting on my pillow. I don’t like notes. Especially after the
last one I received smashed my heart into a gazillion smithereens.

I approach the note like it might detonate, and let out a relieved
breath when I read it’s from Harper. Who else was I expecting? I don’t even
validate that thought with a response.

I love you Ms. Thompson, soon to be Mrs. Holden. Don’t forget lunch
with our parents tomorrow to tell them the good news.  Keep the bed warm for
me.

Yours,

Harper xx

Also sitting on my pillow is my favorite chocolate, a Hershey’s
Cookies n Crème Candy bar. This is one of the reasons why I agreed to marry
Harper; he could be incredibly sweet when he wanted to be. These rare, kind
gestures, made up for him being a jerk. Well, most of the time it did.

I ignore the stabbing in my chest as indigestion, not my inner self
screaming I shouldn't be settling for anything but the best. I have what I
deserve, I remind myself. And I have no one to blame but myself.

*****

“Ahhhhhh!”

I discretely cover my ears because Felicia Holden is squealing over
our BLT, as she’s just heard the news that her only son is getting married.

“Oh give me a hug sweetheart,” she beams, elegantly holding out her
Tiffany covered hands to Harper.

Taking a long sip of my Moscato, I look around the snooty country
club we are currently at, hoping I'm not in for the same PDA as Harper.

Sadly I am.

“Oh get over here my future daughter in law.”

I grudgingly give her a half hug while being crushed into her bony
frame.

Felicia Holden is a fifty one year old woman, wishing she was twenty
one. The wife of a plastic surgeon has its perks, judging by her reformed
looks. I don't know all the technical names for the procedures she swore she
never had, but I'm certain her non procedures are on an endless list.

Her face is too smooth and stiff for a fifty one year old. But
whenever questioned, she would answer she was blessed with her mother’s genes
who looked fifty five, instead of eight five when she died. Her whole family
aged gracefully apparently. But I've seen her family, and I dare say they were
all too afraid of aging gracefully, hence the regular appearance alterations
every time I saw them.

I peer over at Harper’s dad who is chewing into his Wagyu beef
burger.

“Congratulations,” he says in between mouthfuls.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Ronald Holden, who never judges his
superficial wife. I think the reason for this is because he is secretly scared
of the plastic queen.  They met in high school, and have been together
ever since. He puts up with her because he doesn't know any different. He has
accepted his life, and now, so must I.

“So, when is the wedding? I can get Simone onto the wedding
preparations as soon as possible. Maybe a March wedding? The sooner the better
I say, so you can start on giving me grandbabies.”

Felicia grasps her manicured hands in front of her chest, staring
off into the distance, envisioning the fairy-tale she has just painted, while I
choke on the wine I just downed.

I only agreed to come to this posh place because the food is divine,
but getting grilled about future grandbabies is not worth the BLT!

Harper looks over at me, giving me a reassuring smile as he senses
my discomfort. Why is he being so attentive?

“Mom, Ava and I have talked about having the wedding at your house.”

I very unladylike splutter out my wine, coughing hysterically with
tears in my eyes. There is the answer to my question.

Is Harper on crack!? We most definitely never discussed anything of
the sort, but as tears prick Felicia’s eyes, I nod with a fake smile plastered
all over my face.

“Oh Harper, my boy, we would be honored. Wouldn’t we Ronald?”

Ronald nods. A man of few words. Or as they say, happy wife, happy
life.

“We must start the wedding planning now. I have so many ideas. I
have been dreaming of this day ever since you were a little boy.”

She grasps Harper’s hand over the pressed white tablecloth, and
looks at her son lovingly. Anyone would think she was the blushing bride by the
way she is rattling off wedding ideas.

Looking out the huge glass windows overlooking the greens, I notice
a blackbird soar into the sky. I longingly wish I too could fly away, fly away
from the mess I've gotten myself into.

*****

“Over my dead body!” I peek over at my dad who has all but exploded.

It's safe to say our parents reactions to the news over the wedding
vary immensely.

My mom looks like she's in shock, as her mouth is slightly agape.

“Mom?” I question.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence she asks, “Why Ava? Why
would you marry him?”

Lowering my eyes, I internally reply, because I fucked up with
Jasper, and on impulse and rejection, agreed to marry Harper.

But instead I settle for, “Because I love him.”

“Oh don't be ridiculous!” my dad retorts. “Have you forgotten what
he did to you?” He thumps his fist onto the table, resulting in the cutlery
rattling loudly.

No, of course I haven't. But neither will I ever forget what
happened for me to get here.

“He's changed dad.” I look at my dad with a beseeching look.

“Oh yeah, I can see that he's changed,” he replies, looking at the
seat next to me.

I look over at the chair, the empty chair that Harper should be
sitting in.

“He wanted to be here dad, but he had a meeting with clients.” I am
so making excuses for him right now.

“So work is more important than telling his future in-laws about
proposing to their daughter?” He rubs his crinkled forehead, and I hate that I
have made him so upset. “What is it Ava? Is it because he comes from money?”

“Paul!” My mother reprimands.

I feel my cheeks heat, but I am not sure if it’s from anger or
embarrassment.

“Sorry honey. I just can't understand why a kind, humbled girl like
yourself, would want to marry that corporate bloodsucker!”

Pushing back my chair, I stand abruptly. “It's nice to know what you
think of me. This was a bad idea.”

Storming upstairs to my old room, I slump tummy first onto the bed
and bury my head under the pillow. The familiar smells are comforting, which is
something I am in desperate need of at the moment.

There is a knock at my door.” Honey? Can I come in?”

Throwing the pillow off my head, I roll onto my back, staring at the
ceiling.

“Sure,” I answer quietly.

My mom apprehensively opens the door and quietly sits near me, while
my eyes are still focused on the ceiling.

“Honey, please forgive your father’s bad manners. He’s just in
shock.”

I turn my head to look at her. “What about you?”

She brushes a lose tendril of brown hair that has slipped from her
bun behind her ear. “Ava, this has come as a surprise to both your father and
me. We were not even aware of you seeing Harper, let alone considering becoming
his wife.”

I nod, biting my lip, afraid of her next question.

“What happened between Jasper and you?”

Sitting up, I place my cheek against my knees, turning my face away
from hers. “We broke up mom.”

“Why honey?”

The tears I have been holding onto since I returned begin falling,
and my shoulders shake, betraying my grief.

“Oh Ava. Ssh ssh come here.”

My mom pulls me into her and I crumble into her lap. She brushes the
hair off my forehead and strokes my tear stained cheek.