Misguided Vows (Lethal Vows Book 5)
Misguided Vows: Chapter 49

When I wake up, Will is gone. I’m not surprised. And, in fact, I prefer it this way. The nurses check up on me, but all in all, I’m doing okay.

Everything about yesterday feels like a blur, and I’m still so in shock by the revelation of Jack hiring Will and re-entering my life, as well as the silent prayers I’ve made for Tilly. I’m sad to know she didn’t get out.

I turn my nose up at the breakfast they offer. Although there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with it, my stomach churns with nausea. I haven’t been able to keep anything down since the fire, and, who knows, maybe it’ll take me a few days, but I’ve certainly been thirsty.

Honey arrives before I’m allowed to have visitors, coming in with a bagel and coffee. “I figured you’d be hungry,” she says with a smile, her pink, flowery, free-flowing dress swirling around her legs.

The moment the smell of the coffee hits my nose, bile rises in my throat, and I race to the bathroom to vomit into the sink.

“Are you okay?” she calls out.

I wipe at my mouth. I only vomited up liquid, but still, it’s disgusting. “Better than ever,” I lie, splashing cool water on my face. When I think I’m okay, I rejoin her, and she has the coffee on the other side of the room.

“I’m going to keep this as far away from you as possible,” she jokes.

My bottom lip wobbles. “But I love coffee.” So why am I not so much of a fan today?

“Maybe try to eat this. I’m sure your body is out of sorts from yesterday. How are you feeling?”

She offers me the bagel, and I take it, feeling rather famished, and this mountain of carbs looks just like what the doctor ordered.

“I’m fine. I’ll be able to leave today,” I tell her, then take a bite, savoring the cream cheese, grateful my stomach’s not so sensitive to it.

“How did everything go with Will last night?” She takes the seat beside me.

I sigh, staring at the bagel. It was all just really messed-up. “We’re done. It was only a fling, and besides, he lied to me about everything, you know? I think it’s just best we leave it at that.” I try to keep my tone as casual as possible.

“Is that really what you want?”

I sigh. It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t change the mind of a man who is thinking of another woman—especially a woman he loved and who died. And I don’t like how it makes me feel. At least I have him to thank for making me realize that perhaps opening my heart to the right person won’t be so bad. Not that I ever thought the day would come.

“It is. Insurance should be able to help me get my money back after the robbery, and I have a consultation in Manchester for which I might go back. Maybe rest up in London for a bit. If you’ll have me again, I’d love to work on the next project.”

“Yes!” She claps her hands together, hopefully. “We’re letting insurance do its thing, but in a few months, we’d like to have you back. Well, if you’re willing to come back.”

“Of course.” I smile. “I’m very grateful to you and Rya, Honey. You’ve really welcomed me, and I appreciate everyone here. So thank you.”

Tears spring in her eyes. “Don’t make me cry; you know I’m hormonal.” She laughs through her tears. “Oh, this is from me and Rya. We were going to give it to you when the store opened, but, well, close enough.” She hands me a light blue bag from Tiffany’s. “Just a thank you for all your work, your friendship, and everything you’ve done.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I say, touched.

“Of course I did.”

I open the gift to find a custom Tiffany necklace inside. I love it.

“It’s so perfect. I’m never going to take it off,” I gush, leaning in and giving her a hug. It’s nice, and also bittersweet, to know I’ll be going soon. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so at home somewhere. That I’ve actually allowed myself this comfort. Besides with Maria, of course. Who I’m excited to see again. Preferably without her knowing about me and her brother. Maybe I’ll wait a week or so before I tell her I’m back in town when I return to London.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come to my baby shower, but I don’t want to intrude or make you feel like you have to since I know you’re flying back to London.” Her hand goes to her stomach.

“When is it?” I ask, admiring the beautiful necklace.

“In a month.”

“I may be able to make it work. I may have to change a few plans around, but I would love to if you would have me.” Another swirl of nausea hits me, and I all but throw the necklace at her as I race back to the toilet and throw up the two bites of bagel I ate.

“Are you sure you’re okay after the fire?” she asks, coming to my side and patting me on the back. I’m dry heaving, trying to hide my face. She hands me a towel and I use it to wipe my mouth.

“Thank you.” My voice is hoarse. My throat feels like hell from the fire, and add to it the vomiting; it’s definitely not my idea of a fun time. When I look at her, she’s staring at me warily. I wipe my face again. Do I have vomit on my face? How embarrassing.

She crouches, then gently asks, “Alina, you’re not pregnant, are you?”

I scoff. “That’s not possible. I have an IUD, and I got my period like two wee—”

The words die off. Wait, did I get my period? I’d been so busy with the shop and distracted by Will that I can’t remember when my last period was. I laugh. “No. I… No.”

No?

No.