The Marked One (The Marked Series Book 1) (18 page)

“I think, for now, I just want to take some time and not think about it. I can’t get out of my employment—”

“You want to leave your job, because of a break up? Please, that is childish. If you do that I’ll kill you. You deserve that job, so shut up if you are going to act like a teenager.” Aaliyah looked like she was in shock. “I’m serious, now whether you need time or whatever, I’ll go tell him that he should just give you some space, but you aren’t going to walk away from this man without giving him a chance to tell you his side. It’s pathetic enough already.”

“Maddy, you don’t—”

“I know exactly how it feels! I left Uzochi in my past, the day he got accepted to go work in DC. I ignored all his calls because I was mad that he left me behind and didn’t just stay. But that is selfish as shit and you aren’t like me. You don’t do foolish crap, but that one heartbreak fucked me up enough that I allowed Rick to use and hurt me because I thought it was okay. I thought I deserved only that type of love.”

“Maddy, I—”

“Did you know, Uzochi was willing to come back to visit me once a month, but I didn’t give him a chance and I ignored all his calls? And almost a month ago, when I was in New York, I ran into him and apparently he is getting married. And I still care for him so fucking much it hurts to think about him moving on while I can’t seem to do the same.” She took a breath. “It hurts to know that he is happy while I’m still healing from bruises another man gave me when I was sad and lonely and stupid.”

“That is why you’ve been painting and drawing so much?”

“Yes, because I can’t let myself think about how I lost a guy that was so perfect for me, while I sold my soul to a devil instead.” Now Madeline was the one breaking. It had ached to keep it all in, but she needed Aaliyah to see the truth so she wouldn’t end up the same way.

Aaliyah stepped closer. “Maddy, I’m so sorry. I…”

“Just give me a damn hug.” They hugged, both a little tender with tears. Madeline took the physical pain in as a healing one. “Liyah, please give Tristan a chance.”

Aaliyah sighed. “I just need a little time. I need to see if he was telling the truth.”

“Just don’t use it to screw with the truth and make up your own stories in your head.” Madeline felt like she was about to laugh, but it was Aaliyah’s shoulder to shake first as the laughter began to bubble over.

“I’m so sorry.” They faced each other.

“I’m serious.” Madeline was starting to smile and then both burst out in laughter. They were letting go of tension, but somehow Madeline felt calmer and she could see Aaliyah was fighting the urge to overthink it all. “So? Pizzas and wine?” She checked her watch. “Even if it is only brunch.”

Aaliyah sighed in relief. “Please, and
cannoli
…a dozen.” Madeline only smiled and turned to the kitchen to grab the menu. She spotted Aaliyah turning off her cell phone and throwing it back into her handbag.

One thing she was going to give Aaliyah was a few hours of peace, but thereafter Aaliyah was going to need to get her guard down and give Tristan a fair chance to explain himself, because Madeline wanted Aaliyah’s smile to return as quickly as possible. If Aaliyah broke now, she herself would be in ruins.

Chapter Thirteen

Aaliyah

Aaliyah woke up quite listless the next day. Madeline and she had fell asleep somewhere past midnight, after watching far too many classic movies both would never admit were any good. She threw her arm over her face and groaned. She was exhausted even before her mind reminded her of the previous day.

Getting up, she found Madeline working on the letter portrait. It all seemed a little silly, but with her head cocked to the side, she was starting to see Madeline’s vision, as the most hurtful names she’d been called were almost jumping toward her. Madeline smiled at her, said good morning, and continued working and humming to the song on the radio. Aaliyah decided to turn her cell phone back on.

“So how many portraits before your exhibition?” Aaliyah plopped down on the sofa facing Madeline, who was rubbing her hands clean of the paint—a sign Aaliyah had come to learn as Madeline being done.

“One. One little bugger I need to get done, before Wednesday.”

“Oh, good, just three more days, assuming the art must be hung Tuesday.” Madeline gave her a bored look, which made Aaliyah smile.

“I’m going to take a bath and brainstorm. Maybe the steam will give me some inspiration,” Madeline turned to leave.

“Uhm, Maddy?” Madeline faced her again with raised brows. “Later, could you maybe go and get some of my stuff at my place? I’ll call Tristan now, but I don’t think I’d be able to face him. And I’m kind of sure he’ll be there.”

Madeline bit her lip, sighed, and nodded. “Sure. Just make a list and call him.”

“Thank you,” Aaliyah whispered. With her phone turned back on, she checked the messages, which were filled with numerous lines of “Please give me a chance.” Bring Me The Horizon epitomised their relationship, as the song “Deathbeds” made her tenderness feel like raw, exposed pain.

He picked up on the second ring. “Aaliyah, are you okay? Please, let me explain what is going on. Valerie—”

“She is an awful person and I want to believe all you said was true, so before you say anything, I am going to be open with you.” He stayed quiet. “I care for you.” He sighed. “I love you, Tristan, but if this is to go anywhere, I need the truth.”

“Aaliyah, please, whatever Valerie said, they were lies. I love you and I—”

“Tristan, I want to believe you. I honestly do, but I don’t want to get hurt.” She paused. “I also know that I don’t want to see you until the divorce is through.” Her tears began to spill. “I don’t want to see you again until I know everything she said, everything she used to hurt me, were lies.”

He was quiet, then his voice broke the silence. “Aaliyah, please. Can I just see you?”

Her hand began to tremble, which was resounded in her voice. “Goodbye, Tristan.” She ended the call and the screen immediately showed him calling her, again and again. She turned it off and wished she could do the same with her tears and emotions, but she needed the truth more than his promise. Her feelings toward him were obscuring the facts, so she now had to wait for either the truth to allow her to give back into him, or the pain to fade if this was all just a lie.

***

Tristan

Tristan was losing all hope and when he finally headed downstairs and found Valerie in the kitchen, actually making breakfast, he thought he was bordering on insanity. After he returned the previous day, he found that Valerie had settled herself into the guest room, taking over his house and even chasing Isabella out. He was mostly patient, but she had come and thrown his life into a complete mess that he feared he would never be able to make into his own life again.

She turned and faced him. “Morning.” He didn’t reply as he put Isabella’s leash on and grabbed an apple. He made his way to the front door. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” he said as he left. He had no idea where he was heading, but he needed to be away from the woman who ruined it all, while he was wishing the days to pass. One thing he was glad for was that Valerie’s presence couldn’t change the fact that in two days, he’d finally be free of her. It was now only a question of not killing the woman in the meantime.

He had made his way to the one place he felt like things might get better—
her
place. The dodgy old warehouse fit for rats with the beautiful sunset. Isabella barked once and then again, while Tristan stared at the river laid out before him, while Gerardo was running about—the reason Isabella was freaking out. Dinah Washington singing “Since I Fell For You” was making him feel the blues more deeply than he ever thought possible, but now he understood why people could relate to the genre so easily.

He heard a click and turned his head to his door, finding a redhead holding up a camera and snapping a photo of him. She gestured for him to lower his window, and he did so, not quite reluctantly.

“Tristan?” He frowned as she stuck her hand out to him. “Madeline.”

It took him a few seconds, but when it clicked, it did so properly. “Is Aaliyah here?” He jumped out the car, nearly knocking the woman over with the door.

Madeline gave a wry smile. “No. I came to get a few of her things. She is staying with me, but I really do hope that Valerie lied about everything. Aaliyah…she told me some of the things Valerie said to her, and I have faith in you that you were honest with Aaliyah the whole time. The things your batshit wife said to her has her really hurting. Which, if true, I would kill you for. I swear that.”

“I never meant to hurt Aaliyah. I’ve been honest about everything,” he pled.

Madeline’s blue eyes slanted inquisitively, and then she gave him a look that could smack the wind out of him, but she actually seemed to believe him. “Then don’t disappoint her by making your wife’s lies become true. I’ve come to the conclusion that you make Aaliyah see she is perfect, so because I have hope of you being the nice guy, I can tell you that she’ll be at the BoxHeart Expressions gallery on Wednesday.”

“Your new show,” he said absentmindedly.

“Yes, and I know she’ll be there. If you come, there is a chance you might get to talk to her, but I think it’ll be best to only come if you follow the request she gave you when she called you earlier. Otherwise, don’t come near her. I’ll have you seem like a monster if you hurt her any more.” The woman paused, looked at him, and asked, “You know where I live. Why didn’t you go there?”

“It would be inappropriate and I knew if she came here, it would mean she was ready to talk,” he said.

“At least you know where the line of sweet meets stalker then.” She attempted a smile, but she somehow seemed disappointed. “I’ll see you around.”

Madeline began walking away. “Is she okay?”

She faced him once more and shook her head. “Your wife said awful things to her. Believe me, I painted some them on one of the pieces I’ll feature Wednesday. If you know anything about Aaliyah, you know she isn’t as strong as she looks. She needs you, but you need to prove that you are worthy of that. Goodbye now.” Madeline walked away, went into the warehouse, and returned a few minutes later with a bag.

Tristan had the urge to go to Madeline’s place, find Aaliyah and tell her that he loved her, but then he looked at his phone again. It was a picture of him and Aaliyah at the gala; her at his side while she looked up at the lights, forming the logo of the animal shelter. He had tried so hard to not have the cameras capture a meaningful moment between him and Aaliyah, so Valerie would have no ammunition, but one photo, one moment forever frozen in time, showed him looking down at Aaliyah with more love in his eyes than he had ever felt before.

When Ivan had sent him the photo, it was the morning after the gala and he was happier than ever, as Aaliyah was sleeping in his bed. But now the picture’s only purpose was to give him more reason and motivation to rid himself of Valerie. He called Ivan and his lawyers, had them schedule a mandatory meeting with Valerie, and he began to set forth the most important thing he’d do in his life.

Takeovers, buyouts, new companies started from scratch, those things were easy, but love was a thing that needed work, time, and patience. And he would wait forever to be with Aaliyah, but he was going to make sure his deadline reached Wednesday, because in twenty-four hours he had already discovered that not having Aaliyah in his life was torturous.

Chapter Fourteen

Aaliyah

Aaliyah looked at herself in the mirror. “Are you sure about this? It seems too much.” Madeline sighed on the other end of the line. She had to go the gallery to get everything ready, which Aaliyah found unnecessary, as Madeline had been at the gallery since Monday, painting the secret last piece no one was allowed to see until tonight. “Okay, I’ll catch a taxi now and then see you at the gallery.” There was only quiet. “Maddy?”

“Huh?” Another silence. “Oh, yeah, come. We’ll start once you have arrived.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Well, I wanted something
kabang
for when you arrive, but I need to go now, my fans want me.” Madeline sounded cheery, which Aaliyah was glad about, but her twists and turns of thinking were infuriating most of the time.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Aaliyah whined.

“All in due time.” The sound of chatter followed as Madeline gave a chuckle. “I’ll see you in a while.”

The call ended abruptly and the ever-present unease settled within Aaliyah again. She had promised Madeline she would stay exposed. It wasn’t as hard as usual. It had become more of a delight, because even if it wasn’t Tristan, she knew that working more intensely with Madeline made her realise that she did posses a beauty and uniqueness, something her parents always saw.

On her way out, she grabbed her clutch to go with the red lace dress she was wearing, and found a newspaper clipping on the door with a note from Madeline.

See, you need to listen to me.

Aaliyah took the clipping off and read the headline, stating that Tristan and Valerie were officially divorced and the article further explained all the settlements and things she had no mind over.

The little piece of paper brought with it an obvious relief, some uncertainty over what came next for Tristan and if that
next
would involve her. One thing she had learned about herself in the past few days, was that she was completely in love with him and the small things, like not knowing what he and Isabella were up to, had made her the saddest. She kept her faith in him, siding with his initial story, but on Monday the newspapers made her out to be a homewrecker, and betrayal dominated her dislike toward him, but more so toward Valerie.

It wasn’t a fairytale, but it was something close enough to make her dream and hope for things she knew she had no right to. She couldn’t ignore the fact that she acted wrongly toward Tristan, but she knew he felt the same about her, as she did for him, and it took an awful turn to finally accept it. The first thing she was going to do in the morning was to call him and tell him she needed to see him again. And this made her smile as she headed down to catch her cab.

***

Tristan

Tristan
was feeling nervous for the first time in ages; he was holding the champagne flute more for decoration than anything else. The stress of not knowing if he might still have a chance with Aaliyah was nipping at him. Deep down he was sure she loved him nearly as much as he loved her, but it seemed like the chance, no matter how slight, of her never wanting to see him again was just too much.

“So, this is quite a turn out,” Ivan said, as he eyed the guests and faced the portrait in front of them again.

“See her?” Tristan inquired.

“Nope,” Ivan said over the rim of his flute. “Maybe we should make a round? Check out the other pieces.”

“I don’t want to miss her when she arrives,” Tristan whispered and continued staring at the portrait
The
Letter
. Painful words written by Aaliyah herself. Some said by Valerie, according to Madeline. He felt guilty he might have been the reason she felt the need to write it.

“Well, I’m going to check out the other pieces,” Ivan said and began moving in a clockwise direction, along with the crowd. It was exactly one minute later when Ivan came charging back, grabbed Tristan’s upper arm, and whispered, “Uhm…so there’s something you need to see. Immediately!”

He moved along. “What could possibly…” And there it was.

Him,
Love’s Hope
, so completely raw and obviously devastated. It was him sitting with a hand in his hair, staring at the small warehouse, perfectly depicted in the reflection of the car’s window.
The photo
. He remembered Madeline having had a camera with her, but then wondered if the hope part of the title was Madeline’s keen eyes spotting the hope within his eyes. “Ivan, where is Madeline?”

“I’ll go—found her,” Ivan said and Tristan turned to look right at the artist with a smirk, standing behind him.

“So…” She smiled like she’d won something, as her arms were folded over her chest and even at her short height, she was absolutely intimidating.

“Ms. Spencer, remove this. I gave no—”

“Uhhh, no. And there is no way you can complain. It is perfect!” The redheaded woman cheered.

“If you do say so yourself,” Ivan chirped, all too impressed. Madeline exchanged a smile with him. She was moving far more quickly than he’d expected.

As Tristan was going after her, he heard Ivan say something, but he needed this fixed. “Madeline, I can sue you.”

She stopped dead, turned, and the eyes facing him were furious, “How dare you? It is art and regardless of how we got it, it is now a piece of history. Now I might not be the biggest and most badass artist out there, but that piece, it’s great. So bid on it if you don’t want others to become…Wow!” Her face turned into one of admiration.

He felt his pulse spiking, but followed her gaze to where Aaliyah was standing with Ivan in front of
Love’s Hope
. She looked as perfect as ever; her face was exposed, her expression lost, but her manner reflected her beauty from within.

A shove on his shoulder brought him back. “Go to her, damn it!” Madeline was wearing a bigger smile than anyone he had ever seen, and for a moment, she was Gabriella.

He smiled back at her and immediately made his way to Aaliyah. As Ivan walked away, the rest of the people became background images as she faced him with a smile that burned into his soul.

“Hey, Tristan,” Her tone was soft, calming. He wanted to embrace her and never let go.

“Aaliyah, you look beautiful.” Her head tilted forward, as if she was attempting to hide her shyness—something he hoped would never change, if he got to have forever with her. “I’m sorry for…”

She shook her head, “Nevermind all that. What I would like to know is…were you really there?” She pointed at the portrait. He assumed she meant the warehouse caught in the reflection, so he nodded. “Madeline didn’t tell me,” she said it more to herself, looked at the portrait again, and then at him. StereoKid
sang over the speakers, and he caught Aaliyah smiling with ease. Her eyes met his. “Could we, possibly, just go back to where we were?”

Reaching out, he took hold of her hand, but instead she pulled closer and kissed him like it had been ages. And it was, because the softness of her lips with the cherry taste, the shape of her body and the heat from her skin, felt like it had been the first time when he had helped her remove her makeup.

Freedom.