Endless Love by Bianca Borell
Chapter Twelve
BRIA
I scan my surroundings and realize I am only a few minutes away from Sarah’s office. I need to talk to her about my birthday video and the wedding. I step inside her office, where wide windows oversee the lake. A colorful flower arrangement gives life to the white furniture flanked by golden mini statuettes and artwork hint of sophistication, creating a refined and calming ambiance.
Her assistant, Clara, smiles when she greets me, and I ask if Sarah is busy. She picks up the phone, giving me an approving nod. I find her sitting at her desk, facing me, wearing a red pencil dress and a white blazer, her stylish black, thick-framed glasses slide on her straight nose, her greenish eyes with speckles of brown narrow at me.
“Hello, Bria.” I close the door behind me and approach her.
“You seem surprised to see me.”
“I am.” She gestures toward the corner of the room where a round table surrounded by two plush armchairs awaits. “Coffee?” I decline and opt for tea instead. While Sarah prepares the drinks, I sit down, and the silence rings loud.
“You didn’t come to the party. Was it because of the video footage?” I ask, and her finger halts on the tea machine. She places the cups of hot tea on the table and takes her seat facing me.
“I’m aware I organized a farewell party, but I hoped you would tell me, let me inside,” she pauses, and her inquisitive eyes bore into me. “I saw the pictures, and I thought, how is it possible for someone to undergo such a drastic transformation? Until then, I believed this was how you were. It gave me quite a shock.”
“Sarah . . .” She raises a finger, stopping me from offering any explanation.
“No, you wanted to know, let me tell you.” She bends forward, her palms outstretched, and adds, “For years, I watched you hide in the background, keep your distance. Well, except for Alex. I called him your human shield in my mind.” Accusation lingers in the air, but before I can delve more, she continues, “With time, it became obvious to me you came back for Damien and for no one else. I watched you and him, the stolen glances, the fleeting agony in your eyes whenever he brought someone with him, the straining of him whenever you were near, but also the agony when you left. You always ended up circling each other. I intervened because I believed you needed a push in the right direction.” She leans against the back of the armchair, one leg crossed over the other, taking a sip of her tea. “I found him at a party hunched over the terrace, your name spilled out of his mouth, telling of so much sorrow. I never heard someone utterly broken. He gripped his head in his hands, repeating ‘when will it be over, why can’t I forget about you.’ And then I caught how you glimpsed at him, thinking no one saw. The longing . . . I didn’t want to lose a friend, wherever you would have gone, and I doubted I would see you again.”
I fight with my tears while emotions run rampant, and I place my hand over hers.
“Thank you.”
Surprise flickers across her face, and I ask, “How are things going with your business?”
“Great, why?”
“I’m getting married.”
She splatters the tea, and I suppress a smile.
“To whom?”
“To Damien.”
Relief passes over her face, and she asks, “When?”
“Next month.”
She places the cup on the table and shakes her head at me.
“Bria.”
“You’re the best. I’m sure you’ll manage, plus you have both my mother and Rebecca to help.”
Sarah massages her temples, eyes me, and says, “I’ll do it. Have you something special in mind?”
“Give me some suggestions.”
“It’s your wedding.”
“Yes, but all I want is to marry him. Okay, flowers, white flowers, the theme is white.”
“At least it’s a start. How’s Alex?” A slight blush appears on her cheeks, and she picks at her skirt.
“He’s in a relationship.”
Her eyes bulge out, and a flicker of something I can’t pinpoint exactly flashes in her eyes.
“Oh.”
“With Sophia.” She gasps and slumps back.
“I never saw that coming.”
“Yes, me neither.”
We spend the next hour looking through catalogs, and she draws some floral decorations. When I glance at my watch, another hour and a half went by, so I rise and hug her. She freezes for one second but then embraces me back. I invite her to go with us for the weekend trip to London. She ponders for a second but accepts the invitation.
I step outside her office where the sun glides further west, but my feet don’t take me home. The lake draws me toward it. I just give in and stroll along.
I call my mom back, and her sweet voice greets me. “Hi, sweetie. How are you?”
“Taking a walk.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Mom.”
“Bria . . . what’s with the whole gathering. Don’t misunderstand me, but . . .”
“Yes, I know. We tend to shock you when we call for a gathering.”
“I can’t disagree. How’s Damien?”
Her voice turns breathy, as if afraid to ask, which doesn’t surprise me at all. They have treated us with kid gloves for so long I’m sure it became a habit.
“We’re doing great considering everything we went through.”
“We love that you two found a way back to each other, it’s just . . .”
“You need time, Mom.” It’s the word of the day.
“But as long as you two are happy, I am too. You two are right for each other. It’s like we gave birth to you for you to be together. Whatever you two have, it’s special.”
My chest fills with emotion, at how the only thing she has ever wanted was for us to be happy, and an admission slips from my mouth.
“I’m aware I won’t win the daughter-of-the-year prize anytime soon.”
“You gave me my daughter back. It’s more than enough. I don’t want to dwell on the past. We can’t change it. What’s done is done.”
I exhale in relief. After everything I put the people I love through, they are still here for me. I must have done something right too.
“I’ll leave you, sweetie. I have to call Rebecca now.”
“Bye, Mom. Say hi to Dad.”
“I will. See you soon, baby.”
I hang up and take a seat on a bench overlooking the lake and the hidden villas in Zürich’s covered- in-green mountains. I lean back, enjoying the view.
The light wind plays with my hair, with the sun caressing my face. I close my eyes, embracing this found comfort and security. Something is missing, though. I smile the moment Damien’s face appears on my phone screen.
“Bria?” His voice rings of worry and panic settles in my core.
“Is something wrong?” I shoot myself upright on the bench, and he sighs.
“I was worried. I called you but you didn’t answer, then when I called Soph, she said you left over an hour ago. I’m aware I’m over-reacting, it’s just . . .” He’s afraid, I know.
“I can take care of myself, Damien. I assure you I’m a good girl and won’t take candy from strangers, either,” I add the last part just to shift the conversation somewhere lighter.
He chuckles, and butterflies fill my insides. He makes me feel alive.
“I thought you had work to do?”
“It’s even worse when you’re not here.”
I suppress a smile at him being childish, but give in to this fun play.
“Okay, Mr. Caveman, when should we retire to our cave in Palaeolithic time?”
“I’m sure there are remaining places nowadays.”
He is unbelievable.
“I’m at the lake.”
“That’s why I’ll build us a house at our place, you always loved the lake. The sooner the better. I contacted a construction company today. They’ll start after our wedding.”
I can’t wait to share a home with him too, and giddiness spreads inside me. I love how he speeds everything up, the need for us to experience everything together.
“You’re the best man ever.”
“I’m rather selfish. I never want to miss a thing with you ever again.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Come home. I miss you and I’m hungry.”
“Order something.”
“You misunderstand. You’re what I’m hungry for.” His words have a superpower to melt every part of me, and I rasp his name in answer.
“I love knowing you’re all mine. What more can I want?”
“You tell me,” I murmur, and a pause follows.
“There’s nothing, trust me.” His voice drops to serious at what I hint.
“Not even . . .” How do I explain to him, I won’t forget the night of my twenty-fourth birthday and all the talks about babies. He can never undo the desire I glimpsed in his eyes. I will never stop trying. We deserve to be parents.
“Don’t, please, just don’t. It’s you, you’re enough. I don’t want or need more.”
“We’ll have to talk about it, eventually. Why are you being difficult? It’s normal to talk about this.” He huffs, and only our heavy breaths pinch the silence for a few moments.
“I’ll give you the world and all the love a human being can give to another. It has to be enough. I will never put you through something that might harm you, not again, and never on my account.”
I inhale a lungful of air. “It’s a baby, Damien, not a damn bomb.”
“In your case, it could be.” He silences me. My eyes well up at this frustration churning my insides.
“What if I want one, what then?” I ask and grip the phone so hard it might crack.
“If you want a baby, we’ll adopt.”
“Damien!”
My tone lowers because this is hard for me. He’d never understand why I am so adamant about it. How to explain to him I’m missing something I have no idea how it feels to have for starters. The thought crushes me. He will never support my wish if he believes it will harm me.
“You don’t even know it.” At my insistence, frustration rings in his voice.
“That’s where you’re wrong, and why I’m damn serious about it. I knew you would eventually start with this, so I met with a specialist. The advice she gave me . . . not a good idea, highly risky, seek other options.”
I choke on my words when I question him. “You did what? Have you any idea how this makes me feel? I’m so angry at you right now.”
“You can be as angry as you want, it’s your right, but it’s also my right to keep the woman I love like a madman from harm,” he counters right back while I pinch the tip of my nose, breathing through the sadness. “It’s my fault we will never be parents. You can blame me.”
My head throbs with a headache. We’re getting nowhere.
“Don’t you dare bring that up again. You’re not the victim here.”
“No, Bria, I’m the fucking villain,” he spats right back.
“I can’t talk to you right now when you’re being irrational.”
“Me?” he questions, incredulity lacing every syllable.
I can’t have this conversation with him. We both need to process our feelings and calm down. I hang up on him. Even though the scars run deep, they don’t bleed anymore. Yes, I hurt, but can I blame him for wanting to keep me safe? I swallow the lump in my throat and let lonely tears roll down my cheeks.
I hate that he still blames himself, but perhaps I pushed him too far, too early. I forget I am not the only one who has to face the sad reality. All these emotions play havoc with my mind as I stare above the lake’s surface.
