Queen of Harte's Page 2

‘What? Just misunderstood.’ Eva’s sarcasm left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  ‘No. I was the misunderstood one. Depression is a cruel illness, Eva. Not everyone understands how hard it is.’

  ‘Anyone would be depressed being married to that man,’ Eva replied dryly.

  ‘You were too young to understand, Eva. You both were,’ Samantha said making an effort to include an ever-distant Melissa in the conversation.

  ‘I understand depression, Mom. I know what it feels like to have no hope…’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry that you understand that, Eva. I really wish you had no idea what it felt like to feel that way,’ Samantha said, dabbing just under her eyes with the tips of her fingers.

  Eva shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t have a reply to something that profound.

  ‘Your father understood, or at least he tried hard to. He was okay that I was broken. He just wasn’t okay with the fact that he couldn’t fix me.’

  ‘So he thought he’d beat sense into you instead?’ Eva groaned.

  ‘He thought he could drink his problems away,’ Samantha replied.

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Drinking made it all so much worse.’ Eva rolled her eyes. This conversation was crazy. She couldn’t believe that, after all these years, all her mother wanted to do was defend a man who had destroyed their lives.

  ‘Was it stupid? Yes, of course,’ Samantha admitted without hesitation. ‘But he was only human, Eva. And we all make mistakes. We can see how bad it made everything now, in hindsight, but at the time, your father was blind to the damage he was causing.’

  ‘Sorry, Mom. I’m not buying this,’ Melissa interrupted, bristling. ‘No matter how bad his drinking problem was, it was no excuse for domestic violence.’

  It was the first sign of real emotion from Melissa that Eva had seen. It was good. Not good that Melissa was angry and bitter, but good that she could feel. Melissa had worn a frozen expression up to this point, and Eva wasn’t sure if she was just as cold on the inside, too. Eva wanted to grab Melissa and hug her tight. But something stopped her and she wasn’t sure what. Years of hiding her emotions, maybe. The distance that had grown between them. The damage that Eva had caused by running away. All of it, none of it. Just time. Years and years passing. Eva’s family had grown to become strangers. You didn’t grab strangers and hug them; even if you did have the same blood running through your veins.

  ‘Drinking wasn’t all to blame, you know,’ Samantha continued. ‘I pushed his buttons, too.’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself, Mom,’ Eva said, snapping out of the daze she had fallen into. ‘Dammit. Why do victims of abuse do that?’

  ‘I don’t blame myself, Evangeline. I blame both of us. We were never good for each other. Yes, we were crazy in love. But sometimes love isn’t enough. We were two broken souls. We were a bad combination.’

  Melissa snorted, exaggerating her intolerance for the conversation.

  Eva’s upper lip stiffened as she stared at her mother. ‘Are we still talking about you and Dad?’

  ‘I am,’ Samantha replied quickly, ‘but the look on your face tells me that you are not.’

  Eva closed her eyes. Melissa snorted again and Eva’s patience was wearing thin. She didn’t want to be there.

  ‘Do you love him, Eva? This Julian Harte,’ Samantha said Julian’s name as if it meant something terrible in a language Eva didn’t understand.

  Eva nodded.

  ‘And does he love you?’

  ‘Yes. He really does.’

  Melissa snorted for a third time.

  Eva spun around to face her sister. ‘Oh, my God, will you stop doing that. It’s infuriating.’

  Melissa looked like she might fall off the bench.

  ‘I get it. You’re pissed off at me. You’re pissed off at Mom. You’re pissed off at the world. Fair enough. But stop fucking snorting all over me. Get a goddamn tissue if you need to but give me a break. I didn’t drag you here. Julian did. And the words you’re looking for, when you finally get that snot out of your throat, are thank you. You need to say thank you. And you can tell Julian yourself if he wakes up.’ Eva paused to catch her breath. 'When he wakes up…I…I…when, I mean when. You can tell him when he wakes up.’

  Eva couldn’t bring herself to admit that Julian might not wake up. Saying those words out loud made Julian’s condition real. And she couldn’t handle real. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  Eva jumped, feeling her mother’s hand suddenly on her shoulder. ‘And his wife, Eva. What about her? She must be hurting, too.’

  ‘I didn’t even know he had a wife until a few days ago,’ Eva said, beginning to unravel.

  ‘You’re in love with a married man who kept his wife a secret from you. That’s a dangerous game he’s playing.’ Samantha frowned.

  Eva’s stomach churned at her mother’s choice of words. Games, games, fucking games. ‘It’s…it’s complicated.’

  ‘I can see that. What I don’t understand is why you wouldn’t run a mile.’

  Eva forced a painful size lump of air down her throat. ‘Run? I’m good at running away, aren’t I?’

  Samantha dropped her head. ‘That wasn’t what I meant, sweetheart.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry.’

  Samantha took Eva’s icy hands and wrapped her gloved fingers around them, squeezing gently. ‘Julian Harte has given you back to me. Both of you. And I am grateful. I am. But he almost got you both killed the process. I can’t help but worry that he is a dangerous man.’

  ‘No!’ Eva pulled her hands free. ‘Julian saved us. He’s not responsible for this mess. Nathan got us into trouble. Nathan. Not Julian.’

  ‘That Shelly girl’s boyfriend,’ Melissa said joining the conversation.

  ‘Sorta boyfriend. Yes.’ Eva sighed. She wasn’t painting the people in her life in a very positive light.

  ‘Let me guess? It’s complicated,’ Samantha said gently, but it still came out patronising.

  Eva grimaced, eyeing the gate. She couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

  ‘Oh, Evangeline. I’m in no position to judge. I’m your mother, but we barely know each other, and it’s all my fault for not being strong enough to stand up to the man I love. I just don’t want to see you make the same mistakes I did.’

  ‘Julian would never hurt me, Mom.’

  ‘Emotional bruises are just as bad, if not worse, than physical ones, Eva. I should know. I inflicted enough of those on your father over the years.’ Samantha’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  ‘What? Because you sent him to prison for the terrible things he did?’

  ‘I had no choice. If I hadn’t, I honestly believe he would have drunk himself to death.’

  ‘So, what? You saved him by putting him behind bars,’ Eva said, caustically.

  ‘I saved him the only way I knew how. By keeping us apart. The mistakes of the past were as much mine as they were his. Don’t hate your father, Eva. Allow yourself to grieve for a man who loved you.’

  Eva shook her head, saddened that her mother was attempting to defend the monster that was once her husband. She thought about telling Samantha about the damage Cameron had caused and how he had destroyed Julian’s family, but she held her tongue. Samantha didn’t need to bear the burden of that knowledge. What good would it do now?

  ‘Mom, we should go,’ Melissa said out of nowhere.

  Samantha nodded and stood up. Eva’s heart sank watching her mother rush to obey, as always.

  ‘Maybe you could join us for lunch back at the hotel?’ Samantha said, smiling at Eva.

  Eva returned Samantha’s smile, but Melissa cut across Eva before she had a chance to reply.

  ‘I’m sure she is busy, Mom.’ Melissa was clearly refusing to say Eva’s name. That hurt even more than the hate in her eyes. ‘And I’m not hungry, anyway,’ Melissa finished.

  Eva looked at Melissa’s wafer-like body. Her coat fell from her shoulders like there was no body underneath. She was quite ob
viously famished and had been for years. If she didn’t want to have lunch with Eva, that was fine, but Eva shook her head at Melissa’s tantrum-like reasoning.

  ‘Okay, no problem. We can just get coffee, then. What do you say, Eva? You’re heading back that way anyway, aren’t you? Can you spare an hour?’ Samantha pleaded.

  Melissa turned her back and walked away. But Samantha stayed put, smiling and waiting for an answer.

  Maybe Samantha wasn’t quite the pushover I remembered after all, Eva thought gladly.

  ‘I’m really sorry. I can’t. I’ve somewhere I need to be,’ Eva said.

  ‘The hospital?’ Samantha asked, but it was less of a question and more of an accusation.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you wait another couple of hours? We fly back in just a few days. It would be nice to catch up some more. I’m so enjoying talking with my girls.’

  The tears glistening in Samantha’s eyes hurt Eva’s heart. And despite Melissa’s icy behaviour, Eva was enjoying catching up, too.

  ‘We will spend more time together, I promise. I want that, too. I just really can’t right now. I have to go. I need to be there when Julian wakes up.’

  Samantha nodded her understanding as the tears escaped her eyes. ‘Okay, sweetheart. Okay.’

  Eva could see in Samantha’s face what she wouldn’t dare say out loud. Samantha didn’t think Julian would make it. But she didn’t know him. Julian could fight anything, Eva thought. Trying desperately to believe herself.

  ‘I hope he wakes up soon,’ Melissa said, half turning around. It was a throwaway comment, but there was no signature snort or roll of the eyes, and at that moment, Eva allowed herself to believe that Melissa truly meant it.

  ‘Me, too.’ Eva sighed, trying desperately not to fall apart completely. ‘Me, too.’

  Chapter 3

  Julian lifted his head all of about two inches off the pillow before letting it drop back down. Sweet Jesus, moving hurt. He cast one eye around the room. Creamy-grey ceiling tiles that were probably once white were spaced evenly overhead. The room was offensively bright and opening more than one eye at a time wasn’t going to happen while his head hurt this much. He lifted his arms one at a time and sighed at the bruises. He had cannulas in each arm and one in his left hand. His arms were black and blue from just inside his elbows to his wrist. Someone really sucked at their job, he thought, unimpressed with his puncture wounds. His bare chest was dotted with sticky white circles with wires connected to a bedside monitor that irritatingly beeped every few seconds. A light, white cotton sheet had been tucked around him at just above his naked waist. A nurse sat at the end of his bed with a clipboard resting across her knee. She hadn’t noticed he was awake yet. He closed his eye and thought about going back to sleep.

  Ugh. He could feel her hovering over him, gauging him. Medically necessary as it might have been, it was irritating as shit.

  ‘Julian, Julian, are you with us?’ she asked with a distinctive country lit.

  What the hell hospital was he in? It definitely wasn’t Dublin.

  ‘Julian. Open your eyes if you can hear me.’

  Julian thought about it, but the searing pain in his temples argued against her request. He kept them firmly shut.

  ‘You’re in Limerick Hospital, Julian. We’ve been keeping you in an induced coma.’

  Coma? What the fuck?

  ‘For how long?’ Julian said. Finally accepting the pain, he opened his eyes and attempted to sit up.

  The nurse’s hands were on his shoulders immediately, pushing him back. ‘Shh, don’t rush things. Just lie back. You’re bound to be a little woozy.’

  ‘How long?’ he repeated, ignoring her request to lie down and instead sat completely upright. He thought he might fall over at one point, but he kept the position regardless.

  ‘Almost a week now. There were some complications.’

  ‘A week?’ Jesus.

  ‘You’ve been very ill.’

  Julian raised both eyebrows and glanced around the room, taking in a better view now that he was sitting up. ‘Yes. I got that,’ he said with a sarcastic nod.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ She continued moving away slightly to sit on the end of his bed again.

  Julian eyed her up and down. She was about his age and pretty-ish. Not his type. She was a peroxide blonde and painfully bubbly. Despite her efforts to be friendly and caring, Julian really hoped he wouldn’t be stuck with her perched on the end of his bed for a twelve-hour shift.

  ‘Do you have to stay here?’ he asked dryly.

  She smiled. ‘Yes, you have me all to yourself. It’s policy. Every patient in intensive care must have one on one care. I’ve been here with you all week.’

  Julian groaned inwardly, suddenly glad he’d been unconscious for the duration of her company. She was professional and attentive. But right now, Julian really wanted her to be silent and elsewhere.

  ‘When can I leave?’

  The nurse laughed. Julian's eyes slammed shut of their own accord. He’d been awake for about five minutes. That was four minutes too long to still be there.

  ‘Where are my clothes?’ Julian said, opening his eyes again reluctantly.

  The nurse shook her head and gentle concern replaced her bubbly repertoire. ‘Julian, you don’t need your clothes.’

  Julian looked out the window near his bed. Outside was just a whitish-grey blur. The sky blended into the ground as it snowed heavily. It was definitely minus conditions out there.

  ‘A toga is all a little too ancient Greece for me,’ Julian said tugging on the corner of the sheet to make his point.

  The nurse giggled like a giddy schoolgirl and flapped her hands about. ‘You’re so funny. I like it. That’s just the spirit you need to get you through this.’

  Julian’s back teeth clenched, and he forced a smile. It wasn’t her fault that she was irritating the hell out of him. He just wanted the hell out of there.

  ‘Yeah. All very funny. So, my clothes, then?’ Julian’s tone was registering his dwindling tolerance.

  ‘I don’t think anything came up from the ER for you. Sometimes when we need to access the patient very quickly, their clothes, unfortunately, bear the brunt of that urgency. I’m sorry, but I think your stuff might have been damaged. I’m not sure you realise, Julian, but you were in a very bad way.’

  Each breath in felt like someone was running a cheese grater over his lungs and he had the taste of blood in his mouth. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he wasn’t going to be running a marathon that weekend.

  ‘Of course. No need to apologise for doing your job. My phone? It was in my jacket pocket. Is that here?’

  ‘I can find out for you?’

  ‘I would appreciate that,’ Julian said, genuinely, also hoping that a little sweetness would speed her up a bit. Anthony was at least a two-hour drive away. The thought of waiting that long made Julian’s head hurt more than ever.

  ‘The doctor should be in to speak to you soon. Or would you rather wait for your wife?’

  ‘My WHAT?’ Julian bolted rigorously upright as if electricity surged through him. His spine cracked and clicked in response, but pain no longer registered.

  He clasped the sheet around his waist and stood up, his fingers shaking. His legs were as wobbly as fuck, but he wasn’t giving in and sitting back down. Wife. What the fuck was Mia playing at? He’d never called her that. If she had a reason for exercising the title now, he’d damn well like to know what it was.

  ‘Mr. Harte, please. You need to lie back down. Please.’ The nurse was panicking as she tried desperately to steer Julian back into bed.

  ‘Is my wife the only who’s been here?’ God, that word tasted weird in his mouth.

  The nurse’s hands were firm on his shoulders once again as she tried to steer him back to the bed. She looked nervous and stressed, and she kept eying the door like she might call in a team of medics at any moment. That was the last thing Julian needed. He would de
al with the Mia revelation later. For now, it was easiest to play along, despite how odd it felt.

  ‘Yes. Mrs. Harte has been so worried. She’s been at your bedside every day. Really, Mr. Harte. You need to lie down. Please.’

  Jesus.

  The nurse’s hands on Julian’s skin were vexing him even further. ‘Stop,’ he growled. He freed himself from her touch with one hand and reached behind him with the other hand to grab the edge of the bed before he collapsed.

  ‘No one else has been here, then. No one?’

  ‘There’s a strict family only policy, Mr. Harte. But now that you’re awake you can take visitors.’

  ‘Well, that’s just a fucking fabulous policy to have for a once upon a time orphan.’

  ‘I...I…’ the nurse stuttered uncomfortably.

  Julian lowered himself back against the bed, not fully sitting but using the edge to support some of his weight. He pressed two fingers between his eyes and rubbed gently. My God, his head hurt. Julian knew he was being obnoxious. He gritted his teeth as he realised the nurse didn’t deserve his distaste. He forced some composure. ‘Has an American girl been here? Pretty, petite, kind of quiet.’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s been here all right. Causing all sorts of fuss. Don’t worry. Your wife dealt with the situation. I don’t think she’ll be back to bother you again.’

  Wife, wife, wife. The term rang in his ears like acid. Julian exhaled sharply, keeping his temper under control. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. MIA!

  ‘My phone. I need it. Now.’ Suddenly calling Anthony wasn’t his priority. He just hoped he could remember Eva’s American mobile number.

  Chapter 4

  ‘Are you sure that you’re okay? Do you want me to drive?’ Shelly asked softly.

  Eva was aware that she was speeding, but she was getting used to driving on the opposite side of the road now, and compared to the New Jersey Turnpike, the Irish motorways were a breeze.

  ‘The roads are like glass, Eva. Take it handy, yeah. You’re not going to be much good to Julian if you kill yourself in a car crash trying to get to him.’

  Eva eased her foot back off the gas. ‘Sorry, Shell. I just want to get back to the hospital. I feel like I’ve been gone for ages.’