Love's Forbidden Flower (32 page)

Kneeling on the floor, the assembly of the bed frame becomes my new focal point. Donovan infiltrates the room in hot pursuit of me. “Oh, come on, Lil. You know I encourage you to talk to him.”

“Which is really weird, because you’re the jealous type. Why are you fine with me talking to a man whom I almost ran off with?” I wave a screwdriver at him and motion for help.

“He's one of the few true friends you have. Besides, he's a great guy who is 3,346 air miles away, and I could easily take him out by just by—” He flicks a hand in the air and bats his eyes.

“Three thous—” Wonderment propels my shaking head. “I just love how modest you are. So does this mean I can talk to Julian?”

“Oh God, no! That guy’s a freak!”

“Who? The Greek god whose incredible body is mouthwateringly handsome and perfect in every way? The one who could playfully crush you with one hand?” The look I shoot him is intimidating, yet somewhat dirty.

“Oh, so that
was
it. I kind of figured.” Donovan tries to look cocky, but to my delight he's squirming. The can of worms he opened is starting to ooze.

After releasing a longing sigh my taunting continues. “Honestly, sometimes I did lay back and think of England.”

It takes Donovan a moment for the full meaning of the joke to sink in. He baulks with a disgusted look on his face. “Oh God, Lil! Really? Don't tell me that Manchurian lover was any good!”

“Mancunian,” I correct while standing to abandon the bed frame.

“Mancunian? Really? Okay, still there's no way I'm believing that.”

“Riiiiight. You look a little green. How insecure do you feel now?”

“Okay, seriously!”

“Christopher is a very talented guitarist and certainly knows how to use his hands.” With a smack the screwdriver lands in Donovan’s palm. “The bed needs screwing. Think you can handle that?”

Go back to sleep. Breakfast in bed at 8:30. A wonderful day of me treating you like the lovely lady you are to follow. I love you!

Truly this part of my life is perfect. Donovan constantly amazes me with unlimited love, tenderness, and notes of affection. Notes from him follow me everywhere. Right now the milk in the fridge worships me, and the cheese wants us to elope to Mexico.

Just as I ponder making coffee anyway, my video chat rings.

“Happy Valentine's Day! Did I wake you? I was afraid you might be at work, and I'd missed you.”

“Happy Valentine's Day, Christopher. No, I was there late last night and have today off. I was just getting up to make some coffee when you rang. I must look a fright.”

“You look very lovely. I'm not tearing you away from anything, am I?” Christopher seems uneasy regarding my impending response.

“No, I'm completely alone. Yours is the first face I've seen today.”

When we finish our chat, I crawl back into bed musing over Christopher's uncanny timing. Initially when he was the first man I saw on Valentine's Day he'd left nothing to chance. This time, however, his timing is impeccable. He managed it last year too. Is the universe toying with me, or is there some great cosmic force refusing to give up hope on us?

As promised, Donovan returns bringing breakfast in bed from one of my favorite restaurants. Adorning the tray are a single white rose and a little red box.

“I wanted to make you breakfast, but I figured all I would accomplish is setting off the fire alarm. Besides, you're a little intimidating to cook for.”

“So I've been told. I can count the times someone has attempted to make me something edible on one finger.”

Stripping of his clothes, he reveals a body that makes me feel like I'm dying from the torture of the pleasure it brings. But of all the beautiful places my eyes can feast, it’s the sparkling sapphires on his face that command my attention as he crawls back into bed next to me. That is, until it drifts back to the little red box.

“Are you just going to stare at it, or are you going to tear into that box like I know you're dying to?”

“You think you know me so well. I'm going to enjoy my breakfast first,” I say while starting to dig in.

“Yeah, right. We'll see how long that lasts.”

“You're such an ass.”

Donovan chuckles as my fork clanks in abandonment for the box. I really need to lower the limit on his credit card.

I let out a little gasp at the contents. Inside is a necklace with a silver pendant in the shape of an infinity symbol. Its unique character boasts a dazzling sparkle resulting from entwining sapphire and tanzanite strips. Its elegant representation of who we are has me awestruck.

“I wanted to give you something with real significance so you would always remember how much I love you and how incredibly special we are. The symbol reminded me how after all we've been through we still managed to hold together. No matter what transpires between us, in this life or in any other, I will be with you always. You really are my soul mate. We have traveled together before, and we will travel together again.”

“Only if you keep squealing like a three-year old.” Sharply ceasing the cart, he takes a step back causing me to fall into his arms.

“I can’t believe no one stopped you.”

“It’s after midnight, and everyone's half asleep. We could stage a watermelon fight and no one would notice.”

His lips taste like ambrosia. The delicacy makes me dizzier than the ride. “Umm... That feels nice.”

“Lily!” he softly growls under his breath then looks around as if too much caffeine has set in. “We can’t do this here.”

“School just ended for the summer and everyone’s probably gone home. Besides, I suppose you think that no one would've looked at what you just did and not thought it was innocent.”

His stern eyes and firm jaw are my only reply.

“You're right. Let’s get this over with and go home. But first come here.” Following my motion he bends down with trepidation. I whisper in his ear, “Whenever we're together but must be apart, just know I'd give anything to be able to show the world how much you mean to me.”

A comforting glow omits from his face as his lids drop to conceal his emotions. “What’s next?”

“A gallon of milk and some cereal.”

“You get the milk. Whole milk,” he scorns as he strolls off. “I don’t trust you with the cereal.”

“Really?” My hands flail up in disbelief before I head off for the milk.

After rounding the corner and opening the door to the dairy case the brash tone of a familiar voice chokes me.

“Hey, slut!”

Hesitantly my hand unfolds its grip on the case door. Fear of the wild animal that’s ventured into my kingdom drives me backward. Standing before me is one of the last people on earth I ever want to see again; It’s Bob, Al’s little brother. How did Donovan not learn that Bob is attending Syracuse?

“Hi, Bob,” I announce in hope Donovan will hear and stay away.

“I thought you moved with that Australian guy. Who was that dark haired dude I saw you making out with?”

Crap! Of all of the people in the world who could find out Bob is one of the worst. As per our emergency plan I whip out my phone and text Donovan.
“Abort. Leave NOW!”

“Well, Bob, it was nice seeing you. Have a good night.” My phone beeps with Donovan's acknowledgment. While spurting away, Bob clutches my arm. “Get your hands off of me!” I scream loudly enough so that anyone in the store can hear, but Bob is not intimidated by my actions as he continues his pursuit.

A strong pair of arms that deliver me from harm’s way answers my cry. Donovan throws Bob against a row of canned beans as he barks, “What the hell do you think you're doing? Leave her alone!”

Bob shakes off the impact before snickering. “Donovan? Seriously! You were the one making out with Lily? I can’t believe it! We all knew you were fucked in the head but your own slutty sister?” Bob brakes into resounding laugher just before Donovan’s stiff neck becomes corded. His head twitches, and his eyes grow wide and dark.

Monsters used to scare me when I was little. I thought then that I knew fear, but this creature is truly bloodcurdling. Donovan looks like a rabid panther ready to strike as he advances towards Bob. “What did you call her? What ridiculous things did you just say?”

Grabbing Bob by the collar, Donovan puts Bob’s face within inches of his own. “Come on, Bob. Show me how tough you really are.” Bob cowers with the fear of death in his eyes. “I thought so. You have a ten second start. I suggest you use it.”

Upon his release Bob sprints out of the store as if his life depends on it. I fear he's right as a foreboding of death wisps in like a frigid zephyr invading my spine.

Donovan’s motions as he turns to me are like those of a clockwork beast—his eyes reminiscent of a time bomb counting down. His head cocks with a snap of detonation. “Time’s up.”

Donovan sprints after Bob with me behind him, unable to keep up. I catch him just as he's getting into the car and beg him not to go. Coldly he stares before granting me a kiss echoing eternities of love—a haunting kiss signaling finality in this life. The emotions seem foreign to this vicious creature, and I fear it’s Donovan’s last grasp at reality. When he pulls back, the monstrous expression still dominates his eyes.

“Goodbye, Lily.”

He speeds off to what I abhor is his demise. His fishtailing through the parking lot almost takes out a garbage can and two other cars. The sound of tires screeching into turns grows softer as he flashes onto the freeway and out of my sight.

Frantically every room, closet, and cabinet—any place he might hide or leave a sign that he's been here—is investigated. My whirlpool of desperation leaves me empty handed.

“Okay, ma’am. We'll keep searching and let you know what we find. Meanwhile, if you hear anything at all, please call this number.” The kind police officer, who has been of little comfort despite his best efforts, hands me a card with a direct line to sergeant’s desk.

“Please find him. Please, please find him.”

The pleas are useless. There's only so much the officer can do. I've been dysfunctional in my assistance in tracking down the man whom I know better than anyone—the man whom this officer thinks of only as my brother—the man who is the center of my universe.

Grabbing my laptop and cell phone I sit on the living room floor while facing the coffee table on which Donovan has rested his feet on more occasions than can be remembered. There is nothing in my surroundings that isn't a painful reminder of the complexities of my love for him. Silent prayers are again said before opening my laptop.

Dear God, please do not let him die, harm himself, or harm anyone else. And please have Christopher answer.

After what feels like hours of waiting, Christopher finally responds. “My God, Lilyanna. Why are you up at this hour? You look peaky. All right?”

“No. Nothing is all right. Dear God, somebody please help me.”

Christopher looks as if he wishes he could jump through the monitor and rescue me. “Darling, what's wrong? Did somebody pass on?”

My head is throttled into my hands at the potential truth of Christopher’s words. “It’s Donovan. He—he lost it tonight. Just totally snapped. He left me at the grocery store when he went after Bob. He—he—”

Christopher tries to guide me into calm breathing while illogical sentences escape in my attempt to babble out everything that’s happened. Finally the admission of my worst fear ends my outburst, “I’m afraid he flipped and is going to drive over a cliff. I'm all alone. I don’t know what to do. I told the police everything, and I just feel so helpless while I wait to hear he's dead.”