Right Through Me

F O R T Y O N E

THIRD POV

Donovan was like a ghost, like a shadow, remaining hidden in the dark halls of the house. During the party, he stayed out of sight and watched and listened. He was a coward. The most pathetic of them all. He'd never back down from a fight, he hardly feared anything except for that woman.

How is it that he feared the woman he loved? How is that possible? How does that make sense?

He feared losing her again, he feared that if he brought her into his world she wouldn't survive. He tried it and she nearly died because of it. She didn't belong with him, if she stayed with him she would've been in even more danger.

No woman wants to hear that, he knew that. He also knew that avoiding her and border-line stalking her wasn't going to get him anywhere. It was only furthering the point that he was a coward and it infuriated him that he felt like that.

What could he do? Avoiding her seemed to be working. She pretty much hated him now, despised him. Donovan realized, deep down, every single thing he did to her could not be forgiven. He'd lost the one person he grew to love and he never even got the chance to tell her that. She's living her own life now and he had to accept that and move on, what business did he have barging in on her new and improved life? 

He had no right.

"You're thinking about her, aren't ya?" Charles said smugly, entering Donovan's office uninvited and taking a seat as if it was his office.

Donovan glared at him, turning his gaze back down at the paperwork that lay sprawled over his desk. "I am not."

"You're very bad at lying," he chuckled. "At least, when it comes to anything about her."

Donovan rolled his eyes, keeping them trained on the bills from the bank and insurance companies, from other clubs requesting equipment and gear and money. "What do you want, Charles?" he said aggressively, keeping his voice low as he tried to concentrate on the dull letters scattered over the countless letters. "The club will have to go without a Queen, forever."

"You're surely pussy-whipped," Charles joked, finding his own comments the funniest. "You've already claimed her as your Queen, so, to the rest of us, she's our Queen. Whether you two are together or not. She's done a shit ton for this club, Pres."

"She isn't our Queen," he said simply, his jaw clenching from the growing anger. "Enough, we won't discuss this any further."

"So, what? That's it? It's over between you two?"

Finally, Donovan lifted his gaze and met his stare. "It is over."

Charles narrowed his eyes at him, searching him for something else. Charles smiled smugly, standing to his towering height, now beaming. "I see, I see," he said, chuckling to himself.

"Don't be an ass, Charles. It's over. What's done is done. I can't go back and change what I did to her and I don't deserve another ounce of her time," Donovan spewed, growing irritated with his attitude. "It is over. There's no fixing it, Charles. Don't come in here and bring it up again."

"If you really loved her, you wouldn't let her go so easily," he commented.

"Oh, what the fuck do you know about love, Charles? You're with a different woman every damn day," Donovan snapped, slamming his fist on his desk and standing to his feet. "The doc is better without me anyway, don't bring her up again, Charles."

He held his hands up in mock surrender, that smug smile still on his lips. "Right, right. You just let me know when you want me to call her in and apologize."

Donovan threw his massive record book at the door, hoping to hit Charles before he could exit. However, the door was shut before he could hit him and the binder went tumbling to the ground, the papers inside scattering over the floor. 

* * *

LINA

"I mean, come on, doesn't it bother you that he hasn't tried to contact you at all?" Mia asked, taking a bite of her fruit salad as we sat in the break room.

"And why should it bother me?" I asked, shoving a Dorito in my mouth to keep from saying something I shouldn't.

"Well, you know...because..." Mia dragged on, staring off into space. "I don't know, actually. I guess because after all you did for him and he didn't even show up while you were in the hospital, while you were recovering, nada. I mean, I completely understand that you absolutely can't forgive him but...he should've at least seen you."

I shook my head, scoffing audibly. "He doesn't owe me a damn thing. He made it clear to me that whatever was ever going on between us is very much over. He didn't need to pity me and see me in the hospital. He moved on and so have I," I said, trying so hard to believe the words that came from my mouth. "Let's stop talking about him, okay? Let's just forget about him altogether, alright?"

"Lina," Leslie said, peaking her head into the break room. "Your dad is here to see you."

I sighed heavily and exited the break room, finding my dad conversing happily with Diane at the front. "What's up dad?"

"Well, hello to you too," he said, hugging me. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay," I said, looking at him in the eye. "What is it?"

"Will you be the clubs doctor?"