That Thing Between Eli and Gwen (23 page)

“Everyone is so impatient. You can’t see the full effect of it until you back up some, anyway—”

“Please, Gwen.”

“You're just going to use it to torture your mother’s curiosity, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “How do you know me so well?”

Shaking my head, I lifted the curtain, allowing him to come inside.

He looked down at the paint all spread across the ground and the once white shirt I wore while painting lying next to it before glancing up. He took a step back and bent his head as best as he could, looking up at the whole mural. “Is that the—”

“Yep.” I didn’t want him to say it out loud.

“They are going to love this.” He dropped his head and looked back to me. “I love it.”

“Thank you. I’m always a little nervous, but if I know you really like it, I can go forward with no fear.” At the vibration, I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

Katrina had texted me.

‘We have a slight problem.

Are you at the hospital? I will come pick you up.’

“Is everything all right?” Logan asked.

I nodded, texting her back. “Can you do me a favor?” I questioned, reaching for my other painting.

“Sure, what’s up?”

I handed him the painting.

He looked at me, confused.

“You remember the painting I gave to you and Eli? Well, this is the original. I wanted to give it to your mother today, but something just came up and I don’t know when I will be back. Can you give it to her for me?”  

“Of course I can. She will most likely cry and hunt you down to give you a hug later, though.”

“I’ve been giving them out for free lately, so it’s all right,” I said, stepping out with him only to find Eli walking toward us.

He looked between us both.

Logan put his arm around me. “I confessed my undying love for her—”

“Hey!” I pinched his side.

He winced, backing away.

Eli grinned. “Apparently she didn’t accept.”

Logan made a face at both of us, walking away with the painting under his arm.

I got another text message.

‘
I’m here.’

“You showed him the mural?”

“Yeah, since he begged. He’s going to miss the grand unveiling and whatnot. But, do you mind if we talk later? I’m so sorry, my lawyer has been trying to get in touch with me, and she never calls unless it’s important. She even came here.”

“That’s fine. I got what I needed,” he said.

“What?” I hadn’t done anything.

“I got to see you.”

Grinning, I walked backward toward the doors. “You are smooth, Dr. Davenport.”

“Aren’t I? Good luck.” He waved.

“You, too,” I said, pushing the glass door open. When I did, I saw Katrina was already standing outside her town car, wearing a blood-red dress and suit jacket. In her hands was a letter.

“What’s going on?”

She handed me the letter. “Your ex-fiancé is suing you.”

“For what?”

“Breach of contract. Apparently you aren’t answering any of his calls, and thus you haven’t been able to do any of the projects he needs.”

I groaned, wanting to slap myself. “I bit myself in the ass by not terminating my contract, didn’t I?”

“Isn’t it obvious? This is the only way he can get to you, and being the controlling son of a bitch he is, of course he would go this low,” she replied, pulling out another letter from her white Louis Vuitton handbag. “Option one: we try again to break your contract, but believe me, this will be a hell of a fight, and you might lose millions. He will not be as generous as he was in the beginning. I’m not sure what happened, but he is being a prissy little bitch. You don’t have any leftover feelings do you?”

“No, he’s doing this because I’m seeing someone else.”

“You are?” Her blonde eyebrow rose.

“Yes,” I said proudly. “And I don’t want to lose millions, or be in a fight with him for months or years. What is my other option?”

She took a step to the side and opened the door to her town car. “We can go meet with him and see how to work out a schedule, since you are working on other projects. Your contract ends in a few months anyway; there is no point in going to war now.”

“Fine. But try and stop me from murdering him while we’re there,” I muttered, getting in the car.

“If he gives me an opening, I will sue for anything I can think of.”

She was trying to make me feel better, and it was working.

Sebastian Evans was a spineless little prick.  

Eli

I walked into my mother's office, and the first thing I saw was her crying in Logan’s arms. “What in the—”

He nodded to the painting on the table and mouthed 'Guinevere'.

She strikes again.
I had gone by Toby and Molly’s room again to see them both staring up at her painting, laughing and talking together about it. They were so happy, I almost forgot she was even sick. It was why I had wanted to go see Guinevere. Taking a seat across from them, I tried to touch the painting.

My mother smacked my hand away.

“Mom!” I yelled, pulling back my hand.

She wiped her eyes. “No one is touching it until I can have it framed and put up in your father’s study.”

In all these years, she had not moved any of my father's things from the house. Like he was coming back at any moment. She knew he wasn’t, but she said she liked to close her eyes and sometimes just forget.

“Is she still here?” she asked, looking down at it.

“No, she had an appointment,” I said to her.

“Let me know if she comes back,” she whispered, nodding to herself. “It looks so much like him. She even got the little scar on the side of his chin he got from playing soccer.”

“She said when she came to visit you in your office, she got a good look at all the pictures in here, and she was able to look him up online,” I said with a smile.

“When you guys are all around like this, grown up, I can really see it. You both are like him in so many ways. Did you know he wanted to give up medicine, too?” She glanced between us.

“What? No, he didn’t.” I couldn’t believe it.

She nodded. “He was an amazing saxophone player. He was really into jazz. But in the end, he said it would always be a nice hobby.”

“Point one for the musicians.” Logan nodded to me, leaning back in the chair.

Ignoring him, I looked at her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you always wanted to be just like him. I knew you, like me, couldn’t play an instrument to save your life, so I just let you focus on your books.”

Logan laughed so hard he snorted.

She smacked him on the leg.

“Ma!” he yelled, rubbing his thigh, and then smiled.

“Don’t laugh at your older brother. If it weren’t for him setting a good example for you, God knows you would have been living in dive bars.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom.” He frowned, glaring my way.

“Oh Eli, I have something to tell you. Hannah asked to be transferred to one of the inner city clinics for a while. I have no idea why. What did you say to her?”

“The truth,” I said, pulling out my buzzing pager. I stood, already at the door. “I have to go.” I didn’t wait to hear their reply, or even wait for the elevator. Pushing open the stairwell door, I ran down three steps at a time, spiraling downward until I got to their floor. A nurse headed toward the room, right beside me. “What happened?” I yelled, moving toward the bed.

Molly’s tiny body wouldn’t stop shaking, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. And then she just went still.

“Molly! I need a crash cart in here!” I yelled.

“Molly! Molly, sweetheart, wake up! Molly—”

“Get him out!” I hollered over her as the nurse handed me the defibrillator.

Come on, Molly.

Guinevere

After Sebastian left me, I told myself to listen to my instincts from then on. I had known something was off that day, but I’d ignored it. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I would listen to my gut, no matter what happened. And sitting there with him, everything within me told me not to stay there any longer than I needed to.

His office was filled with the same overly done, pricey bullshit as before. He had floors done in marble, his walls finished in the nicest wood, and all his awards hung up behind him proudly. On his desk was a pompous nameplate, his name carved in glass with
Founder & CEO
right under it.

I walked in.

He stood up, buttoning his dark navy suit, and walked in front of his desk, his arms over his chest. “You came—”

“This place reeks of bullshit. Mr. Evans, can we just get down to the point?” I said, taking a seat.

Katrina stood right beside my chair.

“Gwen—”

“Ms. Poe would like to apologize for not getting any of your requests, though I do believe the fault lies partly with you and your office for not going through the correct channels. If you have work for my client, you should speak with her agent, who will filter the request to Ms. Poe. I’m sure any judge will agree with me.” Katrina threw his lawsuit back onto his desk.

He didn’t look at her, only stared at me. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Can’t you see this smile? I’m fine, Mr. Evans. How could a man such as yourself hurt me?”

“Gwen!” he yelled.

“Mr. Evans, yell at my client again, and I will not only sue you for harassment, but will make sure to add emotional distress to the list. Do you feel emotional, Ms. Poe?”

I frowned. “Now that you mention it—”

“Gwen, please.” He sighed.

Katrina was about to say something, but I shook my head. “Say what you want to say, Sebastian.”

He sat up straighter, moving to stand right in front of me. “I know what I did was horrible. I hurt you, and I truly am sorry, because there is no woman on earth whom I love as much as you. I couldn’t see it. I was just so nervous about us…worried we wouldn’t make it, like my parents. Remember? My mother walked out on us, and I just didn’t want to be hurt like that again. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I remember how you held on when I took you to see Cirque du Soleil, how you would fill the fridge for me, even when I told you not to, and how you would rearrange the apartment and dance in the living room. I miss you, Gwen. I will spend every day of my life trying to make it up to you. You are the only woman in this world for me.”

Katrina looked down at me, her eyebrow raised.

“Bash,” I said softly, sitting up onto the edge of my chair.

“Gwen.” He smirked.

“I was so blind when I was with you that hearing you speak right now makes me want to slap myself. I remember Cirque du Soleil. I held on to you because I have a fear of heights, and I thought I was going to have a panic attack watching it. The reason I filled your fridge all the time was because before I moved in, you never did it yourself. And if you did, not once did you buy anything I liked eating. I had to rearrange the apartment because you bought big-ass furniture after I told you I didn’t want anything in there. You only care about yourself. You are not the only man in the world for me. So, please. PLEASE. Stop. The shades are off. I’m not blinded by the great Sebastian Evans any more. Don’t use stupid lawsuits to draw me here. Don’t call me in the middle of the night. Stop, because if you don’t, I will get a restraining order against you. I’m sure that would kill the last few months I have on contract, right, Katrina?”

“You should have told me he called you in the middle of the night. I would have filed a restraining order with Judge Banks that very night,” she replied.

I stood. “Anything you need me to do, please work it out with my agent. Tara will make sure I have it scheduled. Goodbye, Mr. Evans,” I said, closing the door.

Only once we were in the elevator did Katrina speak. “We will only do this once,” she said to me, raising her fist up for me to bump it.

Grinning, I knocked my fist against hers.

“Now we will never speak of it again.”

“Of course.” I tried to sound as cool as ice, just like her, but it was too funny. Walking out of the building, my phone rang. When I checked, I saw it was none other than Stevie’s mother. “Mrs. Spencer? Is everything okay?”

“Hi, Gwen. I’m so sorry to call you out of the blue like this. I was trying to call your mother, but it kept going to voicemail.”

I knew why. My mom hated talking on phones for long periods of time, and Mrs. Spencer could go on for days sometimes. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Spencer?”

“Well, quickly, do you know the name of your father’s doctor? The one he went to after the heart attack? I want to make sure to get Ryan to go. I swear, that man doesn’t believe me when I say all this food of his is killing him. Do you know what he had last n—”

“Wait. I’m sorry, did you say my dad had a heart attack?”
What?
Maybe she was confused.

“Yes. It was about three weeks ago, wasn’t it? Ryan, honey, when did Masoa have his heart attack?” she yelled, forgetting to move the phone away. “Yeah, it was about three and a half weeks ago—”

“Mrs. Spencer, I’m going to have to call you right back.”

Eli

“It’s a miracle she survived,” Bunhead said behind me as I stared at the charts up on the wall.

“What is our next step, Dr. Davenport?” Dr. Stretch came up beside me, and when I turned to him, he took a step back. “Dr. Davenport—”

“Stop talking!” I snapped, and they all jumped. “Stop talking. Stop saying the fact that she is alive is a miracle, because it isn’t. Close your mouths and look at her x-ray. Does that tumor look odd to any of you?”

Dr. Four Eyes adjusted his glasses and stepped forward. “Looks like it moved to the right some.”

“Isn’t that good? You couldn’t operate because of the location, but if it moved or shrunk—”

“It didn’t move,” Dr. Stretch whispered, looking between her old x-rays and her new ones. “She has two tumors. The chemo helped the bigger one shrink, but she has a second one right next to it. Her kind of medulloblastoma makes up less than 12 percent of all brain cancers,” I said, stepping forward and putting up more of her scans. “Chemotherapy and surgery were long shots for her from the beginning. Now, the cancer is spreading. Her body is dying, and we brought her back today, but we are working on borrowed time. She won’t make it to the end of the week.”