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Chapter Eleven- Chloe's Dark Days
Sark felt as if his body was suspended in midair. He felt utterly weightless. The feeling of floating surrounded him, enshrouding him like a warm blanket. All of a sudden pain unlike anything Sark had ever felt before flooded his body. He wanted to scream, but the sound became lodged in his throat. He gritted his teeth, but the pain only increased as his jaw disagreed with the movement. Sark struggled to open his eyes, but they felt glued shut.
Hollow voices mingled with the beeping of various machines that flooded his hearing, sounding unusually loud to his pounding head.
"Where is my husband?" The frantic voice sounded familiar, but Sark could not place it.
"Somebody please tell me where my husband is." The voice grew more and more hysterical with each word spoken. Muffled words followed those of the woman and an animalistic wail echoed in his head.
"No!" The voice screamed before another heart wrenching wail sounded. Sark's heart went out to whoever that woman was. It was obvious that she had just received some of the worst news of her life.
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The call came at three-thirty when Chloe and Paris were halfway home. After having picked up Paris from school, Chloe had spent nearly the entire time dodging the questions about why her eyes were red and tear stained. Then her cell-phone rang. It was the hospital. There had been an accident. Chloe immediately turned the car in the direction of the hospital and stepped on the gas, but in her gut she knew that she was going to be too late.
She ran into the emergency room, Paris right behind her, and grabbed the closest nurse, asking where he was. And then the woman said the two most horrible words Chloe had ever heard.
"He died."
A scream tore itself from her throat and fresh, hot tears rolled down her face. The strength left her and Chloe sank down onto the cold, generic, tiled floor. Paris's arms wrapped around her, but Chloe barely felt the comfort her daughter was trying to give her. He had died. Derrick, her husband of five wonderful years, had died. The pain and guilt of it all was almost too much to bear.
"Can…" she sniffed, trying to gain control of her emotions, "can I see him?" She looked up at the nurse pleadingly. She nodded solemnly and helped Chloe up. Leading her to the door of what Chloe guessed was one of the trauma rooms, she pushed the door open. Chloe's feet paused in front of the door. She couldn't do this. She couldn't go in there and see her husband lifeless on a metal slab.
You have to do it, she mentally coached herself, you have to know that it's true and that it really happened.
Bracing herself for the worst, Chloe stepped into the room. Paris moved to follow her, but Chloe shook her head. Her daughter shouldn't have to see this. The nurse took Paris's arm and led her away. As the door shut behind Chloe, she closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to get through this. Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped towards the table.
The doctors had cleaned up the blood, but Chloe could see the cuts and bruises that marred his once handsome face. Tears fell freely down her cheeks. Used to them now, Chloe didn't even try to wipe them away. She took Derrick's broken hand in hers and kissed each of his fingers. She felt her heart breaking as she looked at him, his face lacking the color and life it had once had. He was nothing more than an empty shell now. She buried her face in his chest and cried.
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It's all my fault. The phrase had become Paris's mantra during the last twenty minutes. It's all my fault. She couldn't shake the feeling that her wishing for her mother and biological father to get back together had killed Derrick, the only father she had ever really had. The guilt ate away at her as she sat waiting for Chloe in the family lounge. There was two other women with her there- a old woman who, by what Paris could hear, was waiting while the doctors worked on her husband who had just gone in to cardiac arrest, and a young mother whose child had been in a bike accident.
The door opened and Chloe stepped inside. Paris dropped the magazine that she had been pretending to read and ran into her mother's arms. Chloe held her tightly, as if she were afraid that Paris would disappear, and, together, they cried.
>>>>>
The sun shining down on the dew damp grass was a far cry from the somber display of black clad figures, each with tears in their eyes. Chloe clung to Sydney, whom she had forgiven in the wake of her husband's death, seeking comfort in her mother much the same as Paris sought comfort in Chloe. She glanced at her daughter, the vacant look in her eyes the same as it had been for the past three days. What was going on in her ten-year-old mind, Chloe wondered, that could make her so distant. Of course Derrick's death was a blow to her, but Chloe had never seen her daughter so unlike herself, so lost in her own world. She barely even spoke anymore. It pained Chloe to see her daughter like this and she wished that there was more that she could do. But Chloe was lost in her own misery right then. The funereal preparations had been too much for her, and it had fallen upon Sydney and Vaughn to do most of the planning.
Chloe listened as the minister delivered his eulogy, the words not really registering in her brain. Her eyes were glued to the casket; the mahogany polished to a shine and the gold handle bars that the pallbearers had gripped as they'd carried the casket to the graveside winked in the bright, morning light. If there had been tears left in her, Chloe would have cried. But, she had done so much crying the past few days that she wasn't even able to become misty-eyed. Instead, she stared ahead, thinking of all the times that she and Derrick had shared. There had been good days and there had been bad days, as is the same with every marriage, but it had mostly been good.
At least it had been until Sark returned. The words filtered into her brain before she could stop them. Yes, Julian Sark had put a strain on her marriage. The very thought of him reminded Chloe just how much she loved the British son of a bitch.
Guilt poured over her, constricting her stomach until it was cramped painfully. She shouldn't be thinking of Sark at her husband's funeral. She should be reflecting on their marriage, their love, their happiness together. But it was so much easier said then done.
People began to offer her their condolences. She hugged Derrick's mother tightly, wrapping her arms around the woman's frail and shuddering shoulders as she wept. Chloe couldn't help but notice the difference between her mother-in-law and her mother. The two women were as different as night and day. Sydney was strong and capable, Anna Mitchell was used to being taken care and her recent battle with breast cancer had left her weak and wheelchair bound.
Chloe stood and accepted the hugs and sorrowful expressions of Derrick's friends, co-workers, and employees. Each person had something comforting, or what they thought of as comforting, to Chloe. But her cynical mind could not help but think of how these people were silently celebrating the fact that it had not been their own loved one to pass so suddenly.
The line of mourners dissipated and Chloe was left with her and Derrick's family. Jack wrapped an arm around his granddaughter and hugged her against his side. Chloe smiled slightly. Her grandfather always knew how to make her smile even under the gravest of circumstances.
Leaving the comfort of his arms, Chloe wandered over to where Paris stood with her cousins. Her big blue eyes looked up at Chloe, wet with tears. Chloe held her arms open for her and Paris flew into them, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother's waist.
As she stroked her daughter's hair, Chloe tried to bolster herself. She needed all the strength she could get to help Paris through this. Her little girl needed her and Chloe had to make sure that she was there for her.
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"And in other news," the newscaster's annoying voice floated towards Sark. He groaned and opened his eyes slowly. Who had turned on the TV? He didn't remember anyone coming into his room. Of course he didn't remember much of anything after his car had slammed, head first, into another.
The past three days he had drifted in and out of consciousness as his body worked to heal itself. Everything had seemed a blur during the times that he was awake, but now the sound of the television was clear and he could make out the face of the woman news anchor.
"Mourners packed the grounds of the Rosemont Cemetery today in order to say good-bye to a well loved man. Derrick Johnson Mitchell III, age thirty-seven, was a local business owner, whose restaurant: The Red Robin, was a popular hang out for some of LA's biggest names. Mr. Mitchell was killed in a horrific car accident three days ago. The hospital will not release the name of the driver who hit him."
The wheels in Sark's mind were turning rapidly. Derrick Mitchell. He knew the name, but how? Then, like lighting, it hit him. Chloe's husband. Sark wondered who had killed him. Whoever it was, he was certain that Chloe would be out for that person's blood, and Sark didn't envy the bastard one bit.
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Boy am I evil or what. But I told you guys that I would take care of the whole Derrick situation and now I have. Hmm…I wonder what's gonna happen when Chloe finds out that Sark was the one who hit Derrick? Could that possibly hurt the two of them getting back together?
Lil Aussie Alias Chick: Glad I could keep you guys on your toes and keep you interested in this story. After all, no writer wants to hear that thier story is boring.
the different person: I don't mean to turn you off from Sydney, I'm justtrying to accurately portary her as a worried mother. Don't worry, she's going to start being a whole lot nicer in the next few chapters.
Marie, Agent Phoenix, andEyghon: Thank you all so much for reviewng. You guys rock!