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Bella
Bella jerked awake. A loud crash above her or behind her or... well, it was loud. There were voices and...
“It’s the neighbors upstairs,” Lucas mumbled next to her. “Baby’s awake.”
Baby? Right, baby. Not...
Adrenaline pumped through her, her heart pounding. She was awake and there was no way she was going back to sleep.
Frontier Doctors made her a lighter sleeper than she’d ever been before.
“Hey,” Lucas’ voice was closer now. “It’s okay. Nothing to worry about.”
His voice was dreamy. Not... dreamy-dreamy, but... sleepy-dreamy. Bella controlled the panic racing through her. The thoughts she couldn’t control about both Lucas and sudden noises.
“I know,” Bella breathed, watching him push into the cushion, trying to get comfortable again. His hand blindly pawed for hers.
She knew there was nothing to worry about. She had to keep telling herself. Nothing was happening. Nothing urgent. Bella squeezed her eyes tight.
Seconds later, Lucas flipped on the lamp on the side table. On the cable box, the time shone. A little past 5 AM.
Bella tried not to look too shaken but still excused herself to the bathroom. Lucas didn't make a big deal about anything. No pity, and for that, she was eternally grateful.
At the door to the bathroom, she watched him lie on the couch for a moment, eyes fluttering again. He'd turned away from the lamp, trying to get more comfortable. Bella shut the bathroom door before turning on the light to not disturb Lucas further.
Sitting on the closed toilet seat, Bella's face fell into her hands. The heart palpitations slowed to an average, steady beat.
Another way she failed in life. Her dad never had these problems when he came back from Frontier Doctors. People — not just any people but her brother and mother — what would they think if they knew she had nightmares? What if Alicia knew? How was Lucas okay with her the way she was? Did he tell the others?
Stuffing her hands in her pockets, trying to get her mind off her failings, Bella rummaged around and found a crumpled piece of paper. Removing it, she unwadded the card, revealing a message.
You owe me for dry-cleaning. ~Pres
Asshole. Why did Bella even have it in her pocket? She tossed the card in the trash, not bothering to crush the message again. On the back was another scribble she hadn't seen before.
Need some help with my forward changes.
Huh.
When Pres and Bella entered high school, Pres joined Bella in ballroom dancing lessons. She'd started years before him, and Bella used to tutor him. Pres was surprisingly willing to learn the steps, especially if he didn't have to practice with their crotchety instructor, Mrs. Fenwick. That woman looked old enough to have invented ballroom dancing.
He used to write Bella notes to her like this when they were in high school. Not code, per se. The letters were filled with the names of ballroom dance moves, creating a message. He'd always write it on the back of a note from one of his friends. Somehow the wording sounded like it was intended for his guy buddies in case anyone ever intercepted the notes. The moves almost sounded like sports-related terms.
This time Bella picked up the note and crumpled it again before throwing it back in the garbage. That way, she wouldn't have to see Preston's perfect, prim, pompous handwriting anymore. When Bella looked at herself in the mirror, her face was a patchwork of red and pink, and a solitary wet streak ran the length of her cheek. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to hide the evidence. When she emerged from the bathroom, she prayed to every god she could think of that she looked normal.
Lucas had neatly folded the comforter and now stood in the kitchen, staring at his phone. Bella crept towards him, hoping to startle Lucas with a playful pounce. Anything to take her mind off the horrible pit in her stomach. But when she got to the kitchen, Bella saw Lucas scrolling through last night’s texts from Melissa.
All her desires evaporated. Bella forced herself to look away, her stomach roiling harder than ever.
“Bella?” Lucas asked.
She still stood frozen at the breakfast bar.
“Are you okay, Bells?”
“Yeah, no,” Bella felt the lump in her throat grow. “I’m fine.” She took a step back.
Then backed out of the kitchen. Bella kept her back to Lucas so he couldn't see her face.
“H-have you called her yet?” Bella forced the question out.
Lucas deserves to be happy. He should find someone that makes him happy.
And that thought shouldn’t be hurting her.
“Who?” Lucas asked. The distinct rattle of the coffee pot coming out of the coffee maker, the water started running, echoed in the apartment.
“Melissa?”
Bella didn’t have the energy to hop over the couch. Instead, she fell into the neatly arranged pillows, crushed the comforter, and grabbed the remote to turn on the news.
“For what?” Lucas answered, “Talked to her yesterday for the Santa’s Village event.”
Bella sat up. The volume on the TV was turned way down like someone was watching but wanted her to sleep. Closed captioning ran along the bottom of the screen, but she wasn't reading the captions.
Situated perfectly behind the reporter was Hope Clinic, lined with police tape. The cameraman's angle wasn't great, but Bella could tell something was written on the windows and door but not what.
What the hell was going on?
Where was her phone?
When she couldn't find her phone, Bella turned up the volume on the television. The clinic footage from overnight cut to a split screen of the reporter at the scene and some early morning anchors in the studio.
“One of two heirs to the Astor estate, Bella Astor has reemerged in the public eye after showing up a year ago in the Hamptons for rehab.”
Half truth. She was in the Hamptons for a stupid plastic surgeon appointment her mother had made. All to have her scar along her collarbone 'fixed' and walked out about five seconds after meeting the asshole doctor.
"Infamously known for her sex tape when she was 17, and walking away from a major collision after drunk driving her Maserati weeks after—"
That was a complete load of crap she did not want to unpack.
"— and, many will remember her famous whirlwind romance with philanthropist, model and now, lawyer, Preston Warren Esquire."
“How can anyone forget what she did two days ago?”
“I feel like we’re back in the early 2000s again. Bella Astor lives in the headlines.”
“This isn’t the same Bella Astor from a decade ago.”
“Well, it is. But packing on a few more pounds.”
“Only a few? I can’t believe we’re talking about the same girl.”
Lucas snatched the remote out of her hand. He shut the TV off as a side-by-side comparison of Bella from college, her lithe, muscular dancer body. A picture from a few days ago, a closeup of what barely constituted love handles, came on the screen. Since college, Bella had maybe added ten pounds, probably mostly fat, because she barely had time to exercise anymore.
A cell phone, hers, dropped into her hand mid-boot cycle.
"Don't listen to them. It's..." Lucas' phone vibrated on the counter nonstop until he crossed the room and picked it up. "Whoa," he stared at the screen, free hand frozen halfway through his thick blond hair.
Bella watched him for a moment, then unlocked her own phone. Sixty missed calls and almost double that in texts.
She didn't have enough time to click on the messaging app before another call popped up on her screen.
Chris
Bella answered the call, curious and afraid that her brother was awake before her.
"Hello?" her brother asked, his relief palpable. "Holy shit, you picked up!"
“What is going on at my clinic?” Bella bit back another wave of tears.
“You need to come down here. Now.”