Page 11 of Fatal Fantasy

After almost dying, losing my ability to walk, and finding out the love of my life is gone, I break down, all the pent up anger and sadness escaping my body.

I don’t care who sees me, or what they think, because this is a fucking nightmare that I can’t seem to wake up from, no matter how hard I try to shake myself out of it.

It’s been a hard road, but the grim diagnosis I was given were just words, and all on my own, I retrained my body.

I’m slow to get around, but using a cane helps, and at last, I’m finally able to walk without help from a therapist.

It took three months of living at a facility somewhere in Connecticut, but I woke up everyday with one goal in mind, the only thing that made recovery possible: to see Carter again.

When I wasn’t in physical therapy, or regaining my strength in the gym, I was hunting her down and learning her habits.

Massi is an idiot that had no idea how to look, but I do, and I chose not to share my side project with him during our daily phone calls. I hate lying to him, but I need to see her first, to understand what happened that night, and most importantly, to verify with my own eyes that she’s alive.

The thing about being on the cusp of death is that you miss out on a lot while the rest of the world is still spinning, and as many times as I’ve heard Massi’s recollection of events, I want hers, too.

Selfishly, I need to hear it from her lips that she chose to leave us, that we aren’t what she promised, and I’ll listen, even if she says she never loved me, or that this whole thing was just an elaborate plot to murder our families.

There’s nobody else for me, and no matter how hard I try, I’ll never get over her, but I can’t possibly move on with my life without seeing her one last time.

Massi is angry, unable to fathom that there may be more to her side of things, so rather than drag a vengeful hothead across the country, I lied to him and hopped on a plane to California alone.

Carter is closely guarded, almost never leaving the house without an escort, or the man who lives in her home, but after a week of scouting, I finally found my window.

Remotely hacking into her father’s computer was tougher than I expected, but I’ve been able to access his schedules, which includes Carter’s, that shows her entire afternoon being blocked off with a spa appointment.

As much as it kills me to think she’s been gallivanting off to ultimate pampering and luxurious sides of life while I’ve had to relearn basic motor skills, I believe in my heart that there’s something deeper happening behind the scenes, and I’m here to solidify that.

“Hi, how can I help you?” A blonde woman smiles, offering me a small wave as I enter the lobby.

“You have a client this afternoon by the name of Cassini?” I ask, pulling out my wallet, knowing that what I’m about to request will cost me a few blue bills at the very least.

“Let me see … yes, we have her booked in for a massage with Rachel first, and then –” she explains, but I cut her off when she gives me the exact detail I was looking for right off the bat.

“How much to get fifteen minutes in that room alone? No cameras, no interruptions, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” I open my wallet without making eye contact, pulling out a stack of bills that would surely make a difference in this young lady’s life, if she’s willing to play ball.

“Um, sir … that’s a serious issue of privacy, and safety,” she stammers, her eyes widened as big as saucers, but I don’t skip a beat, intent on convincing her one way or another.

“I’m her lawyer. We can only meet behind the scenes in these settings, in order to get her away from her abusive husband. You can check with her first if you need to, but we’re well-versed in our secret meetings,” I say, and the woman’s posture softens slightly, likely not believing me, but going with it just because.

“Okay, I’ll call you when she’s ready. Come with me.” She instructs, holding her hand out as she walks from behind the desk, leading me toward a back room of sorts. “This is it. When the light above the door turns green, you can go in, and the timer starts.”

“Thank you,” I say, patiently waiting outside of the room, prepared to stand out here with my gaze fixated on the light until the cows come home.

In a way I’ve never felt before, I’m nervous, like seeing Carter again is going to make or break the trajectory of how I spend the rest of my days.

It’s now or never, as the light flickers from red to green, and the second I step into that room a very slim window opens, but I force myself forward, opening the door that holds my girl on the other side.

My breath hitches as I step inside, even though she’s covered in a robe, lying facedown on the bed, I instantly recognize that body, and that dark, curly hair.

There’s my girl.

“Hi, babygirl,” I say softly, my heart thrashing in my chest as she freezes, but slowly sits up, turning until our eyes meet.

“Tyson?” She whispers, blinking rapidly as if she’s seeing a ghost, but in all likelihood, she probably believes that she has.

Before I can say another word, she throws her arms around my neck, and I breathe in her scent, the all too familiar perfume making me weak in the knees.

“How are you here? Alive, I mean? I’ve lived every day for the last six months thinking you were gone,” she says against my chest, clinging to me for dear life as we stay intertwined in the middle of this room.