VOICES CAME AND went, but their words were lost. I wasn’t sure when it happened or how, but the stress and formality of life had been washed away on a cleansing wave. Nothing mattered, not even my own consciousness.

My head no longer ached with the pounding that kept beat to my heart. Lights no longer blinded, and my body no longer convulsed.

In a place I didn’t recognize, surrounded by voices I didn’t know, I was content.

Such a strange word, content.

It didn’t mean happy nor sad. It was the even keel of emotion, a plateau with no peaks or valleys. It was serenity and peace.

In the recesses of my mind, I recalled a plan to end my own life. Maybe I had. Maybe this was the afterworld. Was there really no heaven or hell, was it simply a sedentary satisfaction that took away the joys and pain of everyday life?

“Mrs. Fitzgerald, you have to drink. If you don’t, we’ll need to reinsert another IV. You don’t want that, do you?”

In the purgatory of contentment, I was still chained to the name I wanted to forget. I’d hoped that God would allow me to go back to the name Montague, to leave Fitzgerald behind, but alas, this wasn’t heaven. It must be hell. Another of my hopes dashed.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald…”

I didn’t answer the voice. I didn’t try to comply. I was neither thirsty nor hungry. The pricks in my arm were only momentary and then the rest could occur without my help. The voices didn’t need my help. My daughter didn’t need my help. My husband certainly didn’t want my help. The reality was clear: I was useless to them and to myself.

I had no desire to reach out to them or even to decipher where I was. It was all beyond me. Inward was the way to go.

 

 

“ADELAIDE, OPEN YOUR eyes,” the deep rumbling timbre woke me from my dreams.

The handsome face before me surpassed any dream my mind could possibly create. My cheeks rose as I lifted my lips toward Oren’s and reached for his scruffy cheeks.

“I love waking with you.”

“You could do it every day. Just say the word.”

My chest ached with heaviness, not from his broad chest covering mine, but from the weight of life and responsibility.

His kisses came quicker, a rapid attack on my lips and cheeks. “Stop that.”

“What?” I asked, looking into the depths of his light blue eyes.

“Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the future. I’m sorry I said what I did. I know your decision. I understand. Let me see the beautiful smile that just woke, not the sadness my offer brought.”

Rubbing my palm over his cheek, his morning beard abraded my skin, reminding me of the sensation of his same scruff on other parts of my body. There was something about this man, something I’d never before experienced that left my insides twisted in a constant state of need.

“I love your offer.”

“Your eyes say differently.”

Reaching for the sheet, I wiggled away, pulling it against my bare breasts. “Please, Oren, please stop asking me… reminding me that there’s a life out there, one I never imagined.”

He threw back the covers and turned away. “How? How could you live this long and never know that you can be happy?”

It was a loaded question. Instead of answering, I went for humor—as if there could be humor in what we were saying. “Are you calling me old?”

His neck twisted as he craned his face back in my direction. His piercing blue eyes drank me in. I must be a fright, first thing in the morning, my hair in who knows what condition after a night filled with passion. Subconsciously, I reached for my hair to smooth the tangles.

In mere moments, Oren was back, our noses touching and my hand in his grasp. “Old, no. Beautiful, vibrant, and full of life. Forgive me, amore mio…” He kissed the knuckles of the hand he held captive. “…for wanting to see you smile. For wanting to be the one who makes you smile. For feeling so damn honored to be with you, beside you…” More kisses. “…inside you. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like the peasant who’s pretending to be a prince. Adelaide, with you I’m a prince, a king, and you’re my queen.”

“Take me, my king.” The words were barely out when Oren did as I asked. Consuming me, shielding me from the world beyond, and filling me until there was no room for anyone but him. Tenderly yet possessively, we became one. Where one began and the other ended was beyond my comprehension. We fit together as if we’d only survive with the other. Alone we were but half of a whole.

Our short getaways, our small reprieves, left me tender and satisfied as I’d never known. My body ached for what Oren could give me, yet after a night or even an afternoon, I was marked in a way that I feared would be visible.

Never had lovemaking been like it was with him. In the past, it had been sex, and I did what I had to do. With Oren it was technically the same act and yet it couldn’t have been more different. I longed to please him and to be pleased by him. Feelings and sensations that I’d only read about detonated inside of me. Sounds and words slipped from my lips as the world around me exploded until there was nothing left but charred remains.

The one thing I longed to say, I kept hidden. I couldn’t call out his name in passion, though it was on the tip of my tongue. It was too great of a risk, too much of a danger. One slip, one misspoken word, and my world would implode.

Wrapped in a soft robe, my hair freshly washed, I gazed across the small round table as I held a steaming cup of coffee to my lips. Oren Demetri might have been nearly thirteen years my senior, but there was nothing about him that said old. In years he was a little older than my husband, and yet in his mid-fifties, Oren was more handsome than anyone I’d ever known. His firm body, trim waist, and broad shoulders rivaled those of a much younger man. His jet-black hair held the perfect amount of white, creating the distinguished look that only men could carry.

“When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “It’s too hard for me to plan.”

He reached across the table and covered my free hand with his. I stared at the contrast in our skin. Though I doubted he spent much time in the sun, mine paled in comparison.

“You know I’ll do whatever I can. Just let me know.”

I nodded as the familiar sense of dread bubbled up from my toes, filling me with trepidation at my return home. “I know. I also know this isn’t fair of me to ask of you.”

“It isn’t fair of me to ask you to give up your life.” His cheeks rose. “But I’ll do it until you agree.”

“Alexandria…”

“Would get along well with Lennox. I’m certain of it.”

I scoffed. “Oh please. She already has one arranged marriage in her future.”

“That’s not what I meant. She sounds like a strong-willed little girl. It would do Lennox good to learn he isn’t always the top dog.”

“If only she had a brother.”

“She could.”

I stood, taking the cup of coffee with me. “I can wish, but that’s all it will ever be. If you can’t agree to that—”

Oren’s strong arm encircled my waist from behind and pulled my back against his chest. Closing my eyes, I lingered in his embrace, allowing his aftershave to mark my senses and fill me with his scent.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily. I just worry about you… with him.”

Spinning, I lifted my chin to see into his blue eyes. “That’s why I need to go home today. He won’t be back until the day after tomorrow. There’s a chance he won’t even know that I left the manor.”

“But if he does?”

“If he does, I have my story. The Metropolitan Museum of Art has a new El Greco exhibit. As a member of the Savannah Art League, I volunteered to preview it. There’s talk of part of the exhibit traveling. We’re in the process of submitting a grant to have some of it showcased at the Telfair.”

“When do you have to leave?”

“Later tonight. I was going to go to the Met first.”

“May I accompany you?”

It was New York City. The museum would be filled with thousands of people. Would anyone know me?

Oren’s expression darkened. “I understand if you don’t—”

Lifting myself up onto my toes, I kissed his lips, quieting his words. “Mr. Demetri, I hesitated for no other reason than I never took you for the art type.”

“And why is that? I’ve lived in and around New York my entire life. I’ve learned to appreciate the finer things.” He pulled me closer. “And with each taste, I want more.”

“If you’re sure you don’t have work and won’t be bored.”

“I have work, but it can wait. And bored, with you? I don’t think that’s even possible.”

 

 

“I’M GOING TO lift you. You need to change positions.”

Who’s lifting me? Where?

“Let me go back,” I said. The request came out before I could censor my response. Maybe this isn’t purgatory, not if I can go back to Oren. Maybe this is heaven.

“Ma’am, you can go home when the doctor thinks you’re ready.”

I blinked as light and unfamiliar scenery filled my field of vision. “W-where am I?”

“Magnolia Woods. You’ve been here for almost a day.”

“A day?” That didn’t make sense. I looked from the round face of an unfamiliar young man to the pinch in my right arm and assessed a multitude of clear tubes and various long needles unsuccessfully hidden behind lines of tape. “What is that? I don’t want it.” I reached for the tubes. “Take them out.”

The man in blue scrubs reached for my hand. “Don’t touch those.”

“But I don’t want it.”

“You don’t know what it is.”

“Whatever it is, it’s made a whole day go away. I don’t want that. Where’s my husband? Where’s my doctor?”

“Dr. Miller will be in later today.”

“Dr. Miller?” My mind was fuzzy, but I wouldn’t forget my doctor. He’d been my doctor for most of my life. “Not Miller. My doctor is Dr. Beck.”

The man painfully squeezed my hand that he still held. “If I let go of your hand, will you leave your IV alone or do I need to restrain you?”

“Restrain me? Do you know who I am?”

“I think the real question is if you know who you are.”

“Of course I know who I am. I’m Adelaide Montague Fitzgerald.”

“Well, Adelaide Montague Fitzgerald, your doctor’s name isn’t Beck, it’s Miller, and if you so much as pick at the tape covering those needles, I won’t think twice about restraining your hands to the sides of your bed. Is that clear?”

“Who do you—?”

“My name is Mack. I’m one of your nurses here at Magnolia Woods and you’ll learn to listen to me. I don’t make idle threats.”

I turned away from Mack and back toward the IV. “What’s in there?”

“Whatever Dr. Miller says.”

“I need to get up.”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s why I sat you up. You can’t get out of bed yet, but they want you sitting.”

“What do you mean I can’t? I can get out.” I reached for the railing.

Mack pushed my shoulder back. “No. You can’t. You’re restricted to your bed until they get your tests back.”

“What tests?” With each statement, my mind seemed to clear.

“Mrs. Adelaide Montague Fitzgerald,” he repeated my name with an unnecessarily patronizing tone, “our job is to get you clean. We don’t care how many names you have. You’re the one who filled your body with all kinds of chemicals. It’ll take some time, but we’ll get you clean.”

“I-I haven’t…” Or had I? Did I finally take those pills, the ones Jane took away from me? There were so many blank spots in my recent memory. “No, this isn’t right.”

“Tell me what pills you’ve been taking.”

“I haven’t taken any pills except my migraine prevention.”

“Don’t lie to me. We’ll have the results soon.”

“I-I’m not lying.”

“And wine. How much wine have you been drinking?”

“What?” I reached again for the railing. “I want out of here. I want Dr. Beck. Where’s my family?”

Shaking his head, Mack walked to the boxes that created a wall of monitor-looking things near the IV. “Just relax. You’re getting upset. I’ll up your dosage and you’ll be all happy again.”

“I don’t want…” I reached for my arm. “S-stop…”

Warmth filled my veins, weighing down my limbs and stopping my rebuttal.

“That’s it. You sleep.”

As the room began to fade, my left arm was lifted and a cold bracelet closed over my wrist.