Serene

SERENE

Diana Nixon

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Copyright © 2018 by Diana Nixon

All rights reserved

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No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Edited by: Laura Hernandez

Cover design by: Amina Black

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SERENE

(Synopsis)

I used to think that my life was a picture of perfection. I had everything a twenty-five-year-old woman could wish for: a loving family, friends, a dream job and a fiancé who thought the world of me. 

Until the day I lost it all… Including my ability to see. 

The car accident took away not just my vision, but also a part of me that I was sure I would never be able to get back.

And then I met him… Stanley Burke. A kind of a man I thought didn’t exist anymore: understanding, loving, supportive and generally too good to be true.

Without effort, he breathed life into my frozen heart, making it beat faster than ever before. 

He became a light that my eyes would never see again. He made me feel things that were long lost and forgotten.

Only I couldn’t give him what he deserved. Because in my pitch-dark world, there was no place for love… 

I’ve never been so scared of losing someone in my entire life… Then again, I’ve never had anyone as important as you are to lose…

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PROLOGUE

2 years ago

Emery Ryan, you are one hell of a sister. You know that, right?

She laughed. "Love you too, Ivy. But this dress does make you look fat."

What on earth is wrong with you today? I stared at my sister, not sure if her spitefulness was caused by the baby growing in her belly, or because of our grandma’s genes; the woman never missed her chance to show just how much of a pain in the neck she was, and Emery just had to be so much like her.

Get pregnant and you will know the answer. Do you think it’s easy to be swollen, hungry day and night, cry over every stupid thing, feel like you want to have a nap right after you wake up, and, which is the worst of the worst, stay sober for nine freaking months?

Said a mother of two, expecting her third child.

I love my kids, but I swear, right after I see this sweet baby, she caressed her belly gently, I’m gonna throw a slumber party and drink all the Sambuca in the house. Speaking of which, I should probably text Mr. Ryan to stock the bar. She took her phone and started typing a new text message to her husband, mumbling, "Only two more months to wait. I can do that, right?

I chuckled. I still can’t believe Mike agreed to take your name. What the hell did you do to make him change his name?

She puffed. Me? Nothing. But he’s the best man in the world, right?

I rolled my eyes and took off the dress that according to my sister, made me look too fat. Not that I agreed with her, but considering her state, arguing with her was a lost cause. Nothing that I was going to say was safe. Everything could and would be taken the wrong way. I had seen my sister pregnant, twice, and I knew exactly what it was like for everyone to be around her. She got easily offended by everything, and I mean everything, even if people were not talking to her directly. She just thought it was her duty to tell them off, and then start crying over her spilled juice or Cinderella losing her shoe in a cartoon.

You would make the devil kiss the ground you walk, I said. But unlike Mike’s dad, who looked like his son just confessed he was a unicorn, I was not even a bit surprised when he said he was going to change his name.

"Do you really believe I was going to say ‘yes’ to becoming Mrs. Dickmaster?"

But his mother once did.

Poor woman. I can’t even begin to imagine what she must have felt when the priest asked her about the name she was going to take after the wedding.

Giggling, I put on another dress and turned to Emery to hear what she thought about it.

Jeez, Ivy, just put on jeans and a shirt and be done with it. You are going to a farm, not a prom.

So what? I don’t want Kean’s parents to think I don’t respect them. Showing up in jeans to a pre-wedding dinner, even if it’s taking place on a farm, isn’t very classy.

Whatever. Really. I’m giving you ten more minutes to decide about the outfit. And I, meantime, better go make myself a sandwich. The baby and I are starving. Do you have cheese in the fridge?

Have no idea.

‘Do you even know where the kitchen is?"

I do, but I don’t remember the last time I went there. You know how little time I spend at home.

I was working as a graphic designer for one of Washington PR companies. I always loved drawing and never let a pencil out of my hand. Whenever a new idea popped into my head, I put it on paper and gave it life. So, when the time to choose my future career came, I didn’t hesitate even for a second. Graphics became my life.

I could spend days and nights in my office, working on a new project. Every small detail mattered: lines, shapes, colors, light, shades. If I didn’t like something, I would stay awake all night long and never once remember about food or rest until I’m satisfied with the result of my work. My coworkers called me a coffee maniac, because without coffee, I was like a walking zombie, grumpy and generally absent-minded. No one would be surprised to see me coming to work in my pj’s; they would immediately know that I was running out of coffee supply.

But today coffee was not what I was missing. I looked at the framed picture standing on my bedside table and smiled. Today I was going to see him…

Kean and I met about a year ago. He was looking for a PR company to help him promote his newly opened talent agency, and I was supposed to draw a few banners for him. Back then, I thought it was love at first sight. He asked me out and a couple of months later, I found a small velvet box with a beautiful ring in it, standing next to my laptop. We were supposed to get married in two days, and I felt like the happiest woman in the world, ready to start my new life, as Mrs. Kean Ross.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and nodded approvingly. I decided on wearing light-blue pants and a creamy blouse with three-quarter sleeves. End of June in Washington this year was suffocating hot.

The farm where Kean’s parents lived was to the north of the city and even though he moved out of there right after high school graduation, he loved the place. His parents, Meggie and Sean didn’t argue when we decided to have the wedding ceremony in Washington, but as for the pre-wedding dinner location, it was one thing that couldn’t be changed. Meggie promised to cook her signature dishes and my mom said she would take care of the desserts.

I hadn’t seen Kean for almost a week and missed him like hell. He was out to L.A. and I couldn’t wait to dive into his embrace again. The mere thought of it made my heart miss a beat.

I’m ready to go, I said, walking into the kitchen.

Emery was sitting on one of the barstools, with a giant sandwich in one hand and a spoon full of strawberry ice cream in her other hand. I was tempted to say something funny about her eating habits, but I wanted to live.

What? She asked with her mouth full of food. The baby is just like his mother – never knows what he wants.

I see. Well, I hope both of you will be happy tonight. After all, family gatherings never happen without lots of food.

She smiled and nodded. You are right. It’s time to go. She left her half-eaten sandwich on a plate and put the box of ice cream back into the fridge. Then she turned around and looked at me from head to toe. Nice pants. Though I liked the first dress more.

But you said it made me look fat!

Did I? Never mind, you know how often I change my mind these days. Last night I woke up Mike in the middle of the night because I wanted a banana, and I wanted it now. He went to the store, and by the time he returned, I realized that I wanted a pineapple.

Poor Mike.

"Poor me. The third pregnancy is killing me."

You were saying the same thing during the first and the second pregnancies too, I said, following her out of the kitchen. Don’t worry, sis, no woman ever stayed pregnant forever.

Thank God. She took a deep breath and sat on a chair in the hallway to put on her shoes. "I hope Kean’s flight will not be delayed, otherwise I’m gonna kill someone even before the dinner begins. You know how much I hate waiting. And waiting for you two to join in the ‘fun’ is hell on earth. Mom is going to lecture me on how to treat a newborn again, as if it’s the first time I’m gonna be a mother. And Meggie will no doubt start showing Kean’s childhood pictures. As if I haven’t heard yet how adorable her son was in his twos. I mean, what the hell happened to her ‘adorable little boy’?"

He met my eldest sister.

Very funny, Ivy. We both know that Kean’s attitude has nothing to do with me.

There was no love lost between my sister and my future husband. I didn’t get it, but every time they met something weird happened, as if someone pushed the ‘be a royal ass’ button and they started arguing over every small thing, even if their opinion about it was equal.

Courage, sis. The night is going to be awesome.

She grimaced, took her car keys and kissed me on the cheek, saying, Hope my navigator doesn’t break again, or I will get stuck in the middle of the road to only God knows where. What’s the name of the place again? She took her phone to check on the map.

It’s Blue Water Lake farm.

Right. She found the needed map, studied it for a few silent moments, then nodded and said, Ok, I’ll see you later, doll.

As always, Dulles International Airport was overcrowded. People were coming and leaving, greeting and saying goodbye. The place looked like a noisy beehive, but it didn’t bother me. I loved airports, as well as traveling. The promise of new exotic locations was always alluring. I loved flying, watching the change of the view beneath the plane, and the clouds surrounding it when it got really high in the sky. Somehow it made me feel like I was about to touch the heavens. Watching the planes taking off the ground and then leaving tracks in the sky, I always wondered about the people they were taking away from here and now. Who were they? What were they thinking? Did they have a fear of height?

But today, the only question I had in my head was, "How long exactly is it going to take Kean to show up?"

I waited patiently for him to go through a passport control and smiled from ear to ear when he waved at me, pushing through the crowd.

I moved forward, intending to meet him halfway, when suddenly I felt someone’s hand on my elbow.

Sorry, Miss, you dropped this…

My eyes looked at the stranger whose rich voice sounded like the most exciting music in the world. I had always harbored a soft spot for voices like his – that made you want to touch them, feel their softness on your skin, dive into their depth and stay there for at least a little while. I didn’t even look at what I must have dropped that made the man approach me, because I couldn’t take my eyes away from the deep hazel and honey stare that he graced me with. Somehow, it looked like a perfect addition to its owner’s voice, magnetic and intense. His eyes shone like a polished sunstone and hid a secret that I suddenly wanted revealed. It pulled me with its mystery that I somehow knew would open the door to a different world; the world I had never been to before.

The connection between us was barely a fraction of a second, but in that short period of time something inexplicable happened, as if we shared a very intimate bond the existence of which had been unknown until this very moment.

Then he broke the eye contact and cleared his throat, saying, The hairpin. I thought it was yours. The low rumble of his voice was like a lullaby that could take you to the universe where sound was power and make you do dangerous things. Where the hell did that thought come from, Ivy? I quickly lowered my eyes and only then did I look at the small thing that he was holding in one hand: a multicolored butterfly-shaped hairpin. It was a birthday gift from my grandma.

It is mine. Thank you.

The stranger smiled with the corners of his lips but didn’t rush with giving the lost thing back to me. He gave my hair a thoughtful look and said, Liquid sunshine… Leave it like it is – long and loose.

The way the words were said made my cheeks blush. It’s not like I was falling into the trap of his apparent attractiveness, but it was really hard to ignore it.

Sweetheart, is everything all right? Kean walked over to me and put one hand around my shoulders in a protective aka ‘she’s mine’ manner.

I swallowed hard. Yes. I dropped my hairpin and this man found it. Again, my eyes met those with a dazzling glow of brown with a seductive gold shade dancing around its edge. I wondered if those eyes got dim and dark when the man got angry or, well, excited...

How very nice of him, Kean snapped, breaking the intense silence.

The stranger must have heard something in my fiancé’s words that made his smile widen.

Have a wonderful day, Miss, he said, ignoring Kean’s presence. Giving me another thoughtful look, he turned around and started to walk away with a firm, confident tread. I breathed a sigh of relief. I don’t know why, but his presence made my nerves go on high alert.

Hey, I turned to Kean and placed a soft kiss on his lips. How was your flight?

Long and boring.

I giggled, knowing how much he hated planes. At least now that you are back, you can think about something more pleasant than long and boring flights.

His eyes were still focused on something behind me, or to be exact – on someone. I knew that look in his eyes. It was not the first time that I watched jealously boil in them. It never bothered me. A healthy amount of jealousy only made me love him even more.

He took his time sending invisible daggers into the stranger’s back, then he finally looked at me, and said, What were you saying?

Never mind. Our families are waiting for us on the farm. Shall we go?

Yeah, sure. Is your sister going to bless us with her priceless presence?

Of course. She wouldn’t have missed the dinner for the world.

I hope she leaves her attitude at home, at least for one dinner.

Only if you do the same.

Hardly possible. You know how much she loves driving me up the wall.

"Ugh, why don’t you two give me a break? At least for one dinner? We walked to the exit, Kean took my hand in his and I felt my body relaxed. I love you guys, but sometimes you make me regret having a sister and a fiancé who hate each other to death."

Sorry, baby. I’ll try to avoid her as much as possible.

I made a face. "There’s no need to avoid her. Just try to be more…patient with her. You know how sensitive she is now."

Fine. I’ll try my best. He bent down and gave me a quick kiss. Now tell me, are you ready to become Mrs. Ross?

I think I will need a little more time to get used to my new name.

I’m not taking yours, if this is what you are hinting at. My name it Kean, not Mike, remember?

I love your name, and I love you.

He smiled with that familiar smile that always made me feel so helpless against him. Love you too.

We stopped at my car and I waited for Kean to put his suitcase in the trunk. Then I got into the passenger seat and let him take the wheel.

He turned on the radio and we sped away from the airport, ready to face whatever our pre-wedding dinner was about to throw our way.

It had always been easy to be around Kean. I was sure he was my soulmate, always ready to support and appraise my new projects and never let me down. I had no doubt he would make a perfect husband for me. When with him, I always felt calm and secure.

I turned my head to the left and smiled at him, saying, Can you believe the big moment is going to happen in two days?

He smiled too. I’ve been waiting for this moment to happen for months. I can’t wait to put a wedding band on your finger.

Sounds so very selfish, Mr. Ross.

He took my hand in his and kissed the back of my palm, saying, I want you to be mine forever.

Likewise.

Our eyes stayed locked for no more than five seconds, but it was more than enough to miss the truck running straight at our car.

Distance was all that mattered.

Kean pushed the brake pedal and roughly turned to the right, trying to avoid the crash, but the distance between the two cars was too short to finish the maneuver successfully.

The lights of the bright-red truck were blinding. I gasped and shut my eyes tight.

I prayed.

I barely had time to scream before the airbags pinned me to my seat. I felt like my lungs didn’t have enough room to take a breath.

Our car flipped over and then the hell started.

I don’t remember how much time passed before the car came to a complete stop. But when it happened, my bones and muscles felt like they had been locked in a tiny box.

Silence… It scared me even more than the pain I could so clearly feel all over my body. My consciousness was drifting in and out, which was not good. I tried to turn my head, probably trying to see if Kean was okay, but my neck hurt so bad; I felt tears running down my cheeks. The taste of blood and tears filled my mouth; the surroundings got too blurry to see anything.

I panicked.

I tried to move again, but it felt like my whole