The Husband Beside Me (The Devil Trilogy Book 2) (20 page)

It was my mother’s birthday. He always bought her favorite flowers, lilies. I took off the paper that contained the flowers in my hand. They were peonies, only because they reminded me so much of her. I placed them down lightly, afraid I may mar her somehow, even more than I already had.

I knew it was stupid, but the guilt inside me, even though it was irrational to most was real to me. Had I not guilted her, she would have lived and I would be by her side celebrating her birthday. I knelt down and held onto the tombstone.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’ll always be so sorry for what I did to us, to you. I'm trying to make it up to everyone. I know you wouldn’t agree with everything I have done, but Sofia is now in an Ivy League university; she might even go into medicine. Dad is better now. He’s healthy.” I sobbed. “Daimon isn’t all that bad. I did what I needed to do, maybe…maybe after everything is done, I may not feel so responsible.” I wiped my fallen tears. “Mom, I love you so much and I miss you so, so much. We all miss you.” I swallowed the hard lump in my throat.

I was filled with shame as I hunched over her grave. I was living in the lap of luxury while my mother was dead. “I love you,” I whispered and left, unable to stay there any longer.

I slowly made my way back to Manhattan. I walked, despite the cold. Spring hadn’t quite made it to Manhattan yet. I stopped at a local liquor store and bought myself a whiskey, the cheapest I could find.

I walked through Manhattan engrossed by all that was around me. I stopped when I saw a little girl crying. She wore her hair two little pigtails, tied with pink elastics. She was wiping her eyes with her tiny little fists, while her mother tried to console her. I cried silently as I watched, wishing my mother was here next to me doing the very same thing.

Finally making it back to the penthouse, my feet were blistered and bleeding. I barely acknowledged anyone in the lobby, too taken in by my wretched day. The moment I stepped into the elevator, I cracked the seal of the whiskey and began chugging. Was it healthy? I knew it wasn’t but I needed it to drown the aching pain I felt inside me.

Stepping inside our apartment, the lights were off. Daimon wasn’t home. I threw my coat onto the floor and kicked off my shoes. My feet protesting in pain, I walked over to the table and sat. Drako came running to me, but backed away when he noticed I wasn’t me. I kept chugging, guzzling down the cheap disgusting whiskey. My mind grew cloudy and I lost all sense of equilibrium. Good, I thought. I was drunk. All I remembered was hitting my head hard on the table as I fell unconscious.

“Addie… Addie.” I faintly heard through my haze, but I couldn’t wake up.

I finally stirred, the feeling of nausea taking over. I rose up but was held back. Daimon’s arms were around me.

“What…are you doin’? Let me…go,” I slurred.

“Addie! Where the fuck were you today?” he asked concerned.

“Out,” I said, trying to break free of his hold.

“Addie, tell me,”

“Tell…you...what?” I finally stood up and almost stumbled over.

“Addie, you’re drunk,” he snapped.

“Good observation, master.” I tried to salute him but failed.

“Do you have any fucking clue what I had to do today? I couldn’t find you and I’m in the middle of a huge business deal. I nearly blew a fucking multimillion dollar deal because of you!” he hissed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I only get like this…once, one day a year.” I nearly threw up, holding up one finger.

“Why?” he questioned.

“It’s my mom’s birthday. I’m celebrating killing her.” I looked at him, my eyes brimming with tears.

“Addie,” he breathed.

“I-t-t’s okay. I’m o…kay,” I smiled, rubbing my eyes the way the little girl did, trying to wipe the tears away.

“I killed her. I did it. Me!” I hit my chest with my open palm. “She could have been alive and celebrating her birthday today with my father, who every year bought her and still buys her lilies.” I shouted my words, barely making sense.

“Addie, come here.” Daimon reached out to take me in his arms but I pulled back, almost falling in the process.

“I-if I wasn’t so fucking selfish…if I didn’t fucking ask her, the drunk driver wouldn’t have killed her. She would have been home safe and sound. She would have been alive right now! N-no, the selfish stupid Addie fu-fucked it all up!” I cried out, slurring. “But you know what Daimon? I tried. I really fucking tried to make it up to them…to her. She was the glue… you know…the one who made our family make sense. But I fucked that up too. I couldn’t even take care of them. My dad got sick, Sofia got all fucked up. I couldn’t even do that right. I failed her twice.” I held up two fingers and stared at them. “Don’t you see, Daimon? I'm a fucking failure. I'm nothing, Daimon. Nothing!” I cried out, falling onto my knees, the ground breaking my fall.

“Fuck, Addie,” he murmured, approaching me. He took me in his arms and I cried uncontrollably.

“I miss my mother so damn much. I don’t even remember how she looked. How she smelled, her laugh.”

Daimon growled deep in his throat as he picked up the broken pieces of who I was and carried me up the stairs. He took us both to the bathroom, stepped into the shower, and turned on the water. We stepped toward the showerhead, the cold icy droplets waking me up instantly.

Daimon knelt down and placed me onto the tile floor. His perfectly crisp white button-down shirt became transparent as he took my face into his hands, forcing me to look right into his eyes.

“Addie, you didn’t kill your mother. It was a freak accident. You did everything you could for your family.” He pulled me in and gently rocked me back and forth. I grabbed his arm as I desperately held onto him.

“You are the strongest person I know. But you need to let this guilt go. Don’t you see? It’s a fucking excuse, for God’s sake, Addie, you haven’t been able to grieve her death. All you’ve done was bury it deep inside you, saying you were to blame. You used work and everything you could to cover it all up. Addie, your mom is gone. She’s dead. Now you need to live. She died doing what she wanted for her daughter. You didn’t force your mom to do anything,” he said roughly, trying to console me.

“Daimon, I miss her so fucking much. God, Daimon, my mom is dead,” I said, softly wailing.

I laid bare all that was inside me, exposing everything within me. He was right. I had hidden my sadness deep inside, putting all the blame on me, all because I missed her.

I opened my eyes to bright sunlight filtering into our bedroom. My head was pounding as parts of yesterday flooded back. Daimon had cleaned us up and taken me to bed. Lying in bed remembering his words, the weight on my heart had lifted a little. I realized how much I held onto in order to keep her memory alive. I buried myself in work and self-loathing, blaming myself so I could feel closer to her. After yesterday, I knew I was beginning to let go. That the heavy dark cloud which followed me everywhere was slowly disappearing.

I eased myself up, still queasy from the night before. I hadn't eaten anything and felt sick to my stomach. Drako whimpered at the sight of me. I knelt down, my knees hurting, presumably from falling onto them. My feet ached, but Daimon had put Band-Aids on my cuts. Dressing as quickly as I could, I hoped Daimon was still home.

 “Mrs. Evans?” Ana smiled the moment she saw me. “Mr. Evans said you were not feeling well and to not disturb you.”

“Is Mr. Evans home?” I asked, my voice hoarse and dry.

“Yes, Mr. Evans is home.” His voice had me pausing.  Daimon came out of the kitchen area holding a bottle of water. He twisted the cap and handed it to me.

“Ana,” he said. Immediately, Ana bowed and left us alone.

“Shouldn't you be at work?” I asked nervously, not looking at him, ashamed at how he saw me yesterday.

“Couldn’t exactly leave you alone,” he said flatly.

I walked down the rest of the stairs and made my way next to him. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said softly.

“Are you better?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

I walked over to the couch and sat down. “Can you sit down please?” I asked quietly, still not looking at him.

All I saw were his bare feet and the bottom of his jeans. I took a sip of water, my stomach protesting, but I held back my nausea. Daimon pushed the coffee table aside and sat down on it, facing me.

“About yesterday, t-thank you,” I stammered as I finally looked up at his sky-blue eyes. A sense of shame washed over me. “I never once told anyone all the things I told you. You are the only one who knows the truth about me and how I feel about my mom's death. I just wanted to say thank you for helping me see what I was doing. I mean I'm not better, but I understand and feel like a change happened, and I'm just saying I think it was because of you,” I rambled nervously.

Daimon made me face something I couldn’t deal with for over ten years. He lent me his strength and made me see the errors of my ways. Daimon helped change me.

“You are to never do that again,” he hissed angrily. “Have you any idea…” He let out a breath and dragged his fingers through his lush hair. “I thought—”

“You thought I left,” I said sheepishly.

“It was early morning. I looked all over for you and you weren't there. Your phone was off and I didn't have a fucking clue where you were!”

“I’m sorry. I promise I won't do it again.” I looked back down, nervously playing with my fingers.

“I nearly lost a year’s worth of work because of you,” he continued.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said regretfully.

“I’m going to fire Ted. That man can't keep you safe,” Daimon barked.

“What? No! I promised him you wouldn't do that. Daimon, what I do isn't his fault,” I pleaded.

“I can't ever feel what I felt yesterday. Do you hear me? Never again,” he snapped.

“Never again,” I nodded in agreement. I looked up, his face anguished and angry.

“Daimon?”

“What?” he relented, letting out a breath.

I leaned forward and softly kissed his lips. I pulled back and smiled. “Thank you.” Daimon looked somewhat taken aback.

“Addie, I don't want to see you hurting like that,” he said sadly.

“You won't,” I promised. My phone rang. I looked at him.

“What? Of course I turned it back on! I'm putting a tracking app on it,” Daimon noted.

I stood, still feeling sick as I walked over to the counter. I looked down. It was his mother.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Addie, it’s Deidra.” She sounded somewhat happy.

“Hi, how are you?” I asked.

“I’m good. I'm just calling to check up on you two. Is everything okay? How's Daimon?” she asked.

“We’re very well and he's good too,” I replied. Daimon turned his head and narrowed his eyes.

“I'm going to assume my Daimon is there; that's why you’re not able to talk,” she said knowingly.

“Yes. Your assumption is correct,” I added

“Okay, dear, I'll call you later then. Goodbye for now.” She then hung up.

“Was that my mother?” he asked, not too pleased.

“That's why you’re the astute business man,” I smiled.

“It’s not funny, Addie.” He stood up from the coffee table and paced.

“Daimon—”

“Don’t!” He pointed at me.

“Look, I realized yesterday how much I missed my mom and how much I'd give anything to have her back. I'm not saying have a close relationship with her. I'm saying just go and see her, maybe have dinner together. Not all the time, but maybe twice a year. Daimon, she's your mother,” I pleaded.

Daimon brought his hands to his waist and let out a heavy sigh. “She’s an alcoholic. I don't want you to see her like that,” he hissed.

My heart hurt knowing what I had done yesterday might have triggered bad memories. “Daimon, it’s you who doesn't want to see her like that.” I put my phone down and walked up to him. “I’ll be there, with you. I won't let anything happen that makes you uncomfortable.” I reached for his hand and held it.

****

I watched as Daimon paced the lobby of an Art Deco building on Park Avenue. The lobby was chic with its clean lines of basic white and black with splashes of vivid colors, most of which came from the elaborate flower arrangements that were placed on various round mirrored tables.

“Daimon, don't you think it's better to call her before we came here?” I asked. Once I told Daimon I would go with him to see his mother, he begrudgingly dragged his feet but made sure he pulled me with him. We stood in the lobby of her building while Daimon tried to calm himself down.

“No. I know her. If I called, she would have left. This way I know she's here,” he said annoyed.

“How do you know she's here?” I looked at him skeptically.

“Because she rarely leaves her penthouse.” He looked at the elevator and proceeded to walk over.

“Call her, please,” I insisted.

“Fine.” He reached in his back pocket and took out his phone.

“Yes. I’m downstairs. I'm coming up now,” he barked on the phone. “Yes! Now!” He hung up and pressed the call button for the elevator.