Chapter 40

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I S L A

eight weeks later


     I SIT ON the windowsill in my bedroom, looking out into the idyllic neighborhood. There’s a beautiful scenery out here I’ve been avoiding since I was released from prison—too preoccupied with Evans and the fake Rosina to enjoy nature. Now I have time just for that. Gentle winds blow toward the window. I inhale and tuck strands of my hair behind my ears.

     The past weeks have been difficult for me. After they found me, I was rushed to the hospital and had a blood transfusion done. I stayed there for two weeks before I was discharged. I was told they found me on time because Rosina gave up Parker’s location. Although she did it to save her skin, I’m glad she told the police where to find me.

     Detective Conor had been at my house often to take down my statement. He asked if I wanted to press charges, but I said no. I told him Parker needed help. He wasn’t mentally stable. They put him in a psychiatric hospital where he awaits a prison sentence after his recovery for scheming with international con woman Elise, or Rosina, or whatever she calls herself.

     I don’t know what happened to her, but I do know I won’t be seeing her for a very long time. I never followed up with her story—not once. The media coverage has all the information about her. Every single day, I pretend I never met her, like she didn’t exist.

     Dr. Flynn paid me regular visits. I told him the whole truth, the reason why I started therapy, and he said he suspected it after I was kidnapped. He suggested I start therapy again and I told him I would. For now, I just want to enjoy the time I’ve got.

     All the struggle I went through just to make Rosina’s life hell wasn’t even worth it. I still can’t get over the thoughts that Parker hired Rosina to seduce Evans and he fell for it. I start to think that maybe Evans never loved me, and I had imagined it.

     There’s a loud knock on the door instead of the usual ding-dong. I stand slowly from the sill and go downstairs, passing a hand through my hair. When I get it open, Evans stands in my doorway clutching a bouquet of daffodils. He’s been doing that ever since I was discharged and came home. Sometimes, he’d pop in with a bottle of Chardonnay and I would invite him to join us for dinner. He’d asked my forgiveness several times for the pain he caused me, and I had told him flat out it’d take time. I can’t just tell him I’ve forgiven him when my heart hasn’t.

     I would need to heal first, then I can forgive him from the bottom of my heart. I collect the bouquet and bring the flowers close to my nose, inhaling the blossomy scent.

     “Thanks.”

     “Can I come in?”

     I open the door wider. “Of course.”

     He enters and closes the door behind him. I find an empty vase in the foyer and gingerly place the flowers in it. It should be seven in the evening by now. I’m sure he just closed from work and headed straight to my house. He’s been coming here often, and it’s become a routine. I should hate him for what he did, but the truth is that I don’t. I enjoy every single second I spend with him. I’m only praying my wounds would heal faster, so I can forgive him and move on with my life. I won’t think about him proposing to me now. I will take things slowly, which is good, because you don’t skip any step in a relationship. The outcome of that isn’t always good.

     He loosens his tie as I walk him to the kitchen.

     “How was work?”

     “The usual. Boring as ever,” he drawls.

     I smile at him. He smiles back and balances himself in a chair by a table. I microwave the lasagna from earlier and serve him. Then I grab a chair, sit beside him, and watch him eat.

     A short while later, we’re enjoying the Chardonnay he brought yesterday. I swirl my wineglass and watch the liquid slosh back and forth.

     He takes a sip and clears his throat, “I’m thinking of a vacation to Hawaii.” He pauses, glancing at me. “And I want you to come with me.”

     The concept of a vacation with him alone is thrilling and I look forward to it. But I can’t get over what he did to me. Although I want to join him, my mind tells me I shouldn’t. He can’t compensate for so many days of humiliation and hurt with a vacation.

     When I don’t reply, he leans forward and touches my hand. “Will you come with me?”

     “No,” I say sharply.

     His face drops. He heaves a tender sigh. “Are you still upset?”

     “No. I’m just thinking about everything that’s happened between us after Rosina showed up in the picture.”

     He pats my hand. I feel a tingle and I let it pass.

     “Rosina is in the past now. I’m sorry for how I treated you. Please forgive me.”

     He’s apologized for the millionth time. I know they are sincere and he’s truly sorry. Another woman might go for his head and drag him out to get back at him, but I won’t. For now, I just want him to treat me well and not hurt my feelings.

     He pulls a hand forward and caresses my cheek. I finally give in and giggle. I love the way he is treating me now and making me feel like the only important person in his life. I know I will eventually forgive him, but for now, I will just play hard to get. You don’t hold grudges with the people you love forever. No matter the hatred, love always wins.

     “I know you are.”

     “So will you come with me?” There’s a note of excitement in his voice, and I’d hate to disappoint him when he’s looking forward to it.

     I’m still playing hard to get. “I will think about it.”

     “All right.”

     We sit in the kitchen for a while, talking about the good old times when it was just the two of us and Parker—not the Parker now, and when Rosina hadn’t shown up in the picture. It was just perfect, every aspect of it. Love is sweet with the right person. No matter the obstacles, you will still find each other. Evans and I didn’t live happily ever after, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love isn’t always blind. You just have to be open-minded to know it.

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