Page 99 of The Devil's Torment

“She’s on her way. Joel is parking the car.”

Oh, this should be interesting. I haven’t reconnected with the infamous Joel yet.

“Don’t,” Victoria whispers. “Be good.” Her lips twitch, and I grin down at her. She knows me so well, and I love it. I’m a closed book to most people, apart from my family… and now my wife.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“You didn’t have to.” She rests her head on my upper arm. “He’s nervous about meeting you.”

“As he should be.”

She tsks, but her eyes are twinkling. The chance to enjoy a little levity before my heart gets ripped out along with her kidney is more than welcome.

It’s a few minutes later when Elizabeth enters the waiting room followed by the man Victoria and I followed from that café in Windsor. Elizabeth ignores me, hugging first Victoria and then her parents.

Joel shuffles from foot to foot, tossing me a: “Hey, man.”

“It’s Nicholas.” In an unusual move, I take pity on him and hold out my hand. He pauses, then shakes it.

“Sorry about, you know, lying to you and all.”

“It’s not your apology to make.” I stare pointedly at Elizabeth. She meets my gaze, defiant, the mousy, submissive woman I thought I knew nowhere in sight.

“You married the right sister in the end, Nicholas,” Elizabeth says.

My lips thin. “Oh, I fucking know I did.”

Her courage falters the longer I glare at her, and her shoulders curve. “I have apologized.”

“Not to me.”

“Nicholas.” Victoria rests a hand on my arm, her touch usually soothing, but I’m too edgy to gain any comfort from it. “None of us need the stress right now.”

“I’m sorry, Nicholas. Okay?” Elizabeth lets out a slow sigh and stares at her feet. “I’m sorry for lying to you, and for what I did. I should have found another way.”

“Yes, you should.”

“You’ve said your piece.” Joel finally finds some balls to defend his woman. I’d have stepped in long ago if he’d spoken to Victoria like that. Although his blooming red face takes the sting out of his words. He mustn’t be well versed in conflict.

Unlike me.

“Haven’t even started.”

Before the argument can escalate further, two surgeons enter the room—one for Victoria, one for Elizabeth. My empty stomach heaves at the sight.

This is it.

I encircle Victoria’s waist and pull her close to me. “I’ll be right by your bedside when you wake up, okay?” It’s not what I want to say, but for some ungodly reason, the words I do want to say stick to my throat like superglue.

She nods, her skin pale and clammy.

We file out of the room and up a single flight of stairs to where the operating theaters and private rooms are located. Elizabeth is taken to one room, and of course, Laura and Phillip go with her, as well as Joel. How I manage to keep my mouth shut remains a fucking mystery, especially when Victoria’s face crumples, her eyes tracking her parents’ retreating backs.

I keep hold of her hand even when she’s prepped for surgery, even when the anesthetist visits to ask if she has any final questions, even when the orderly arrives to take her to the operating room. I walk alongside the stretcher until we reach the point where I’m not allowed to go any farther.

“Nicholas, I?—”

I squeeze her hand. “What, Half-pint?”

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