Lily never got a chance with him. He’d taken her from her home, stolen her virginity, and almost took her voice away. What kind of person did that?
With a cry, he threw the glass at his reflection. Growling after the surge of violence didn’t help. He upturned the table holding the potent liquid. Nothing went untouched in his rampage to destruction.
Glass smashed. Picture frames crushed. The computer on his desk landed on the floor not surviving the fall.
The rage he kept contained for so long unleashed. All the anger from being an abused little boy to growing up as a man closed off from his emotions came storming out. He couldn’t even tell the woman he loved how much he loved her, the anger at himself unleashed. Crushing the angel, he loved by his own need to take.
He lifted the handcrafted vase in his hand, prepared to smash the small trinket she’d made for him. The final part in his need to destroy all love and connection with Lily. Until their wedding photo twinkled from the broken picture frame on the floor.
Wayne glanced at the picture to the vase in his hands, and he slumped to the floor, cradling the vase against his chest, trying to protect the small treasure of hope.
“What have I done?” he asked.
Mindless of the slithers of glass, he picked up the photo and sat with his back against the wall.
Lily smiled out at the camera, and Wayne too busy gazing at his wife to care about glancing at the camera. Lily and her smile held his attention.
In all the time they’d been together he could have spoken the three simple words “I love you,” but for some reason he’d kept them back afraid to let himself go.
Running his thumb along her beautiful face, he began to cry. The woman he loved was gone, and it was all his fault.
The despair clawed at him making him immobile. He sat in the spot staring at her photo and hugged the vase until the sun went down.
The distant ringing of the telephone alerted him to the passing of time. Getting up from his spot, he went and answered the phone.
“Hello,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from the crying.
“Is this Mr. Brown? Mr. Wayne Brown?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, I’m Denise Sutton from the community hospital. We’ve got a Mrs. Lily Brown here, and we need you to come down right away.”
His heart dropped out of his chest. Wayne held the phone tighter, praying with all of his might there was nothing seriously wrong with her.
****
Wayne looked at his wife in the hospital bed, and he wanted to throw up. She’d been attacked on the street with a knife and knocked to the ground. His fingers curled around the metal bedpost.
Tony coughed making him aware of his presence, and Richard followed close behind him.
“We came as soon as we heard. How is she?” Tony asked.
Wayne nodded at both men and then turned his attention back to his wife—pale, unconscious, and in danger of never waking up. Stress, the doctor had said. Too much too soon and his delicate wife couldn’t handle the stress, and her body conked out to help her deal. A small nick on her cheek, the only indication of the attack of the knife but the lump on her head and the black eye was evidence of something much worse. Once the man punched her to the floor, she’d been too weak to defend herself. Wayne was thankful the thug hadn’t caused any more damage to her after she went down. He was told the only thing missing had been her car. Wayne couldn’t believe it, Lily attacked for her car.
“She’s doing okay. They keep checking but it’s just a case of waiting for her to wake up.” No matter how long he sat and stared, she didn’t move or make any sound she could hear him.
“What happened?”
“The police said it was some random attack. Took a knife to her and then punched her to the floor.” The police had told him they had a suspect in custody from the few eyewitness reports but they needed Lily to confirm identity of her attacker.
“What kind of animal would hit a woman?” Richard growled in disgust, and Wayne couldn’t agree more. If he found the guy before the police, he wouldn’t leave him alive.
“She’s pregnant. They reckon she’s over two months pregnant, give or take.” The doctor had given him the news. What was he supposed to do? Laugh? Cry?
“We’re here if you need us,” Tony consoled, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Wayne nodded but was grateful when they left him alone. He sat at her side and took her slight hand in his.
“Hey, baby, it’s me. Your shithead of a husband.” He spoke and caressed her lifeless hand. Wayne wanted to shake her, do anything to wake her up.
The tears gathered in his eyes, and for the first time, the Beast felt fear and loneliness.
“I’d do anything for you to pull your hand away right now. To show me the woman you’ve become.” He loosened his grip and waited to see if she’d pull away, but her hand remained still.
One tear fell from his eye and the ice around his heart smashed to smithereens. With Lily in his life, he had some semblance of control over his emotions. The thought of losing her and never seeing her smile, or to even hear her sing, was breaking him more than any gold digger could his bank balance.
A sob escaped, and he kissed her hand. Not caring about protocol, he lay down on the bed and gathered her in his arms.
“I know I’m a shit but don’t leave me. I love you, Lily Jones. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, even when you didn’t see me. I’ll love you till the day I die and then keep on loving you.” The tears ran down his face. He didn’t wipe them away. They were a beautiful thing. “Please, wake up. I want that family, and I’ve never been ashamed of you. I love you. I love you.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tight. Any thoughts of keeping everything in his heart and remaining the bastard he’d become were gone. Lily could still be lost to him, but he’d keep telling her how much he loved her.
****
Tony and Richard came back with cups of coffee and saw their friend broken and sobbing in the neck of his wife.
“Wow, I never thought I’d see the Beast lose control like that,” Richard said.
They moved out of the room and glanced through the slats in the window.
“He’s in love, and it looks like the stupid ass**le just realized what he could’ve lost by not telling her, too.”
Richard frowned at his friend. “What do you know about love?”
Tony sighed and moved away from the heart-breaking scene. “The usual. I’m a bastard and let the girl get away...that kind of crap.”