Adapting Desires (Endangered Heart Series Book 3) (4 page)

For an instant there was only silence.

“Hello?”

“Baby?”

Emilia almost dropped the phone. It had been nearly two years since she had heard from her mother—two years that had gone by quickly, and mostly happily. And while there were things Emilia had regretted, not having her mother in her life was not one of them.

“Mom.” She said it, yet could still hardly believe it.

“Hi, Honey!” Her voice suggested she was near tears. “I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice.”

“What do you want, Mom?” Emilia began to wish she had changed her number and asked herself why she hadn’t after reuniting with Kasper.

“D-Don’t be that way, baby.” Susan’s voice was syrupy sweet in an unnatural way. Vaguely, it reminded Emilia of a dessert made with artificial sweetener. Right away, it had her reaching for her glass of water to rinse her mouth out with. “I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you so much! It’s been so long.”

“I don’t have time for this, Mom.” She sipped at her water gingerly. “I have to study.” Emilia had thought about what she would do when she would do when her mother got in contact with her again, how she would react. After envisioning the scenario more than once, Emilia told herself she would be calm and controlled, cool, collected. Now that it had come, however, she was far too submerged in her worry for Kasper, his subsequent breathing troubles, and her schoolwork to keep her temper under her thumb. Perhaps, she reasoned, she would never again have the tolerance required to deal with her mother.

“You’re still in school? God, honey, that’s great! I’m so proud of you.”

Emilia slammed her glass down and watched small droplets spit out from the force of it. “You don’t have any right to be proud of me.”

Susan’s response was quiet. “I-I deserve that, I know. I j-just wanted to apologize for, well, for everything. I was hoping you’d agree to see me,” she said enthusiastically and in a hurry that suggested she knew Emilia was thinking of hanging up on her. “I’m in the program—have been for a while—and one of the steps is making amends—do you think we could get together?”

“Mom.” Emilia pinched her brow and closed her eyes tight. “I don’t even live in the area anymore, and frankly—” She searched her mind for a simple enough explanation. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that.”

Emilia could practically see her mother dabbing at her eyes with a tissue with the long pause, and she almost hung up on her right then and there. “I’m not with him anymore,” she sniffed. “I know that doesn’t fix anything…that I can’t make up for how I let you down—”

“I have to go, Mom.”

Emilia hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

***

Perhaps because she had envisioned reuniting with her mother so many times, rejecting her as she had and the brief conversation within itself did not weigh as heavily on Emilia as she would have thought. Even as evening descended, and she and Kasper traveled to attend a private consultation at the surgeon’s clinic, she thought of her mother so little, Emilia hadn’t even bothered to mention the conversation to her husband.

Instead Emilia remained fascinated as Kasper continued to avoid the subject of his car accident, changing the radio station, and asking her extensive questions about her class work and professors every time he seemed to sense she was about to ask a question, until eventually she gave up, settling herself to the apprehensiveness she felt and counting the seconds until they pulled into the empty parking lot.

Appropriately, the waiting room of the surgeon’s office was lowly lit, excluding, of course, the large fish tank, where the entire cast of
Finding Nemo
lingered in the crisp blue. Emilia shifted uncomfortably at the sight of bare breasts on the walls and dug her toes into the lines of the freshly vacuumed carpet. She looked for the receptionist, but there was not one to be seen.

Kasper, who seemed as equally uncomfortable, cracked his knuckles while his eyes darted from one set of brochures to another.

“I understand it is not uncommon for potential clients to request after-hour consultations.”

She crossed her arms over herself and sighed. “Rhinoplasty is a fairly common procedure, Kasper. Why all the secrecy for something so basic? Why are you acting so strangely?” Her eyes widened as she gripped his arm roughly, her voice going up at least two more octaves. “Is something else wrong other than your nose? Is there something else you aren’t telling me?”

“No, my peach.” Kasper’s shoulder’s sagged under the weight of his sigh as he stared at Emilia. Clearly, it had been his intention to put this announcement off for as long as possible, but now it seemed that time was up.

“I am considering more than the rhinoplasty.”

Her eyes widened at the announcement. “You’re
considering
it? Why didn’t you say something?”

Before he could answer, a grubby but well-dressed man wearing a white coat walked out from one of the offices and gestured for them to come inside. Emilia followed, though with clear hesitation. If Kasper thought that Emilia didn’t like the idea of Kasper having invasive plastic surgery, he was dead on. She was familiar from her studies alone that the sort of surgery Kasper would need would be incredibly dangerous, and even if there were no complications, there would be no guarantees of any improvements.

“Hello,” the doctor greeted them warmly and gestured for each of them to sit across from him at his desk. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Zafar. I’m Dr. Taylor. It is very nice to meet you both.”

Emilia smiled, but pretended not to see the doctor’s extended hand. To her, this person represented potential pain for the man she loved—both physical and emotional. And as long as she breathed, she would not tolerate that, wouldn’t even pretend to.

He coughed awkwardly and turned his attention back to Kasper. “I received the photographs your assistant sent me earlier today along with your medical records, and I’ve been studying them throughout the day, Mr. Zafar. I believe I can help you.”

“Gee,” Emilia mumbled. “Studying his face for an entire day? And through photographs—no doubt you’re an expert on my husband already.”

“Dr. Taylor comes highly recommended, my love.” Despite himself, Kasper smiled just a little. Rarely did he see his wife’s temper show itself in public, but when it did, he was usually to blame.

“I assure you, Mrs. Zafar, I am highly qualified.” Dr. Taylor looked at Kasper hard with his eyes narrowed as he stood to rise. “Mr. Zafar—” He paused to put on a pair of rubber gloves. “May I?”

Kasper’s hands tightened, and he nodded.

Dr. Taylor removed Kasper’s mask and artificial ear before observing his face with a medical eye. He did this for several minutes before moving to retrieve a large overhead medical light on wheels and shining it over his facade. Instantly, Kasper’s brow began to sweat, and he gripped the arm of his chair as if in a great pain. Emilia bit her nails too, willing the experience to be over for them both.

“Your nose should be relatively easy to fix. We’ll re-break it here.” Taylor ran his index finger along the bridge of Kasper nose for emphasis. “Obviously, that will correct your breathing from your fender bender, and the dislocated cartilage we withdraw from the area can be used to fill in this gap under your eye socket. Depending on your blood work results, we should be able to do both during the same procedure.

“How long would something like that take?” Emilia asked.

“Approximately five to six hours—”

“Five to six—” She stopped herself and shook her head. Kasper, however, seemed to show no concern. On the contrary, his eyes had already begun to light up with the faint glow of excitement.

“Would he have to be under the entire time?”

“Yes.” Taylor nodded. “Now, I’ve noticed you seem to experience some pain when you smile, and that’s the result of the zygomaticus major—the muscle that controls basic facial expression being severely underdeveloped. There is an experimental procedure being done with fetal pig nerves…”

Over the next two hours there was talk of flesh flaps and tissue expansion, of skin grafts and a permanent ear attachment before more pictures were taken and a tour of the facility was given. Emilia said little else other than asking Taylor about his qualifications and putting his name into her phone for later research, and it was only when they were returning to the manor that the subject came back between the two—Emilia’s long resounding concern, clashing against the excitement that Kasper struggled to keep contained.

“You should have told me,” Emilia said once they returned home. She gripped the ends of her sleeves hard. Emilia didn’t want her first instinct to seem like one of judgment, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel upset, offended that he hadn’t confided in her about such a major medical procedure.

“I had every intention to,” he said with a sigh. “And to be honest I considered not even going through the consultation at all. It did not seem necessary to worry you over something that might not even happen.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay.” Emilia sighed and sat on the edge of the stairs. “But now that it has, we need to talk about it. I mean, is this something you want to seriously consider? Something you want to risk your life over?”

With some hesitation, he lifted the ends of his jacket and settled himself on the step next to her. “Despite the pain of my childhood, I thought about the potential change in my appearance for years, even when I
knew
it could not be done. Now that there is a real possibility…” Kasper sighed and tried again. “I confess that there is an anticipation in me that is nearly as great as when I first began to hope that you loved me.”

She shook her head. “You heard Taylor; the sort of results you’re thinking of would take months, probably years. The insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, and you almost certainly wouldn’t be able to work.”

Kasper laughed freely, laughed so hard, in fact, he was forced to remove his mask and wrap his arm around Emilia to keep from falling over. After a moment, when he recovered himself, he realized Emilia was frowning, and he quickly retreated to explain himself.

“Money is hardly an object, my love, and you know it. But I find it amusing that you can stand to look at me now, but you protest the idea of looking at me in bed and bandages.” He began laughing again at the thought, but Emilia stopped him quickly with a slap to the shoulder.

“That isn’t what I’m protesting.” She sighed. “I’m
protesting
the fact that I’m going to be at school most of the time and you’ll be here, or at the hospital, or at the clinic where I can’t take care of you.”

He smiled widely. “Don’t you see, my darling? That is why this is the perfect time to pursue this endeavor! You can finish up this final year of schooling while I have the majority of these procedures completed—the worst of them anyway. Mrs. Levkin can stay here temporarily, and surely she will appreciate the overtime—”

“No, Kasper.” Emilia shook her head vehemently. “I don’t like this. I don’t like any of this. You need to invest more time thinking about it before you make a choice like this.”

“You foolish girl.” Kasper sighed. “You have been beautiful your entire life while I ugly all of mine. I have had thirty-seven years to think on this. Besides, the timing could not be better. You are a young woman in your prime; you should not have to look after a sickly, middle-aged husband.”

She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I would feel honored taking care of the man I love,
that
isn’t the point. We haven’t even talked about the potential medical risks.”

Kasper was saved by the jiggling of tags against a collar as Tut trotted up to them, leash in mouth. He stretched and wagged his tail.

“It is such a lovely evening,” Kasper said, retrieving the leash from his disfigured companion. “It seems a shame to waste it arguing.”

Standing up, Emilia rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I miss my dog almost as much as I miss you, otherwise I’d never let you change the subject like this.”

He smiled as he watched his love interact with the dog, trying desperately not to think about how he had to linger behind to reattach his mask—about how he did not know how to do anything else but stand behind and watch.

Chapter 4

While Emilia had to admit that Kasper had some decent points about plastic surgery, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the subject. So intense was her distress, in fact, that she only fell into a fitful sleep after walking Tut and a healthy session of lovemaking. Even that sleep did not last long, interrupted by a strange series of dreams that mystified her more than disturbed.

A red ball bounced in a hallway that was almost entirely empty. Sunlight, bright and distinctive, made its way through a dirty window, casting shadows on the warped hardwood floor. Emilia felt herself reaching out for something with more intensity, more passion than she ever had in her entire life—but could not reach it.

Just as the dream ended, a baby began to cry.

The dream morphed into another dream. This one included a stack of storybooks—one that Emilia distinctly knew belonged to a child for some reason—that stood on a tree swing. It was raining, pouring really, and her dream self was horrified that the ink would run together—preventing any child from enjoying the story…

Waking up startled and more than alert, she managed to slip herself out of Kasper’s sleeping arms and to the library, where a light over the desk remained on its lowest setting.

Sighing, she stretched out, and played a game of solitaire in an effort to rid herself of the worries that plagued her. Emilia had every desire to support Kasper and all his aspirations—especially when he had been so incredibly supportive of her and her dreams. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t concerned about the medical risks—something Kasper seemed to be ignoring altogether. This was particularly alarming when he cared so much for Emilia and so little for himself.

Knowing it was not the best idea, Emilia typed the name of some of the procedures Kasper might have into a search engine, beginning with the skin expansion. While the initial images were not too terrible, the idea that Kasper would have to go through it frightened her and the video of infected expanders horrified her—envisioning them on Kasper’s body made her shudder. What if Kasper went through some of these only to have them fail? Putting that aside, Taylor had said the failure percentage rate was just under thirty percent…but he was a doctor, a professional, he didn’t love Kasper the way she did—there was no possible way anyone could. And as far as Emilia was concerned, one percent was too much of a risk.

She continued to do additional research on her own, looking through galleries and reading through message boards from accident victims who had been through major plastic surgery. One moment she would feel assured by the tales she heard, the images she saw, and the next a pit of fear would bloom in her about burn victims who died from infected skin grafts and people who suffered brain damage from an incompetent anesthesiologist.

Emilia turned off the computer and tried to think of something else. Unfortunately, the other subject in her mind was hardly a comforting one either. Even without her psychology electives, Emilia thought she would have known that some of the symbols from her dreams signified fertility. If she wasn’t so dedicated to taking her birth control every day, she might have been worried. Even then, for the slightest moment, a jolt of fear coursed through her—she hadn’t missed any days, had she? No, she was much too organized for that, and with her periods being as regular and predictable as any woman could hope for, Emilia knew she wasn’t pregnant.

Then why would she have a dream like that? Emilia didn’t want to read too much into it—after all, the strange combination of images could have just been the result of some bad food she ate or the extra espresso she drank in the afternoon. Between that and the fact that Emilia had been mulling over Kasper’s mortality and Susan trying to wedge herself back in her life, it was no wonder why she was having strange fertility-related dreams.

Still, why babies and not death or monsters?

She hit her head against the chair. Maybe, she prayed, the dreams had more to do with her non-existent relationship with her mother instead of kids, her never-ending sympathy about Kasper’s childhood situation, or even Tut’s deteriorating age. Emilia was barely twenty-four years old; her biological clock shouldn’t have started ticking away for at least another couple of years, right? Sure, she had always been mature for her age…but there was school to think about, and the start of her career—something she had once refused to give up, even for Kasper.

Because she loved Kasper Emilia had accepted that she wouldn’t have children of her own—biological, anyway. And considering her own family history of abandonment and addiction, it wasn’t nearly as difficult as she had anticipated it to be. Watching the occasional bad movie about desperate women who kidnapped the children they couldn’t have or reading magazine articles about couples who went bankrupt after unsuccessful fertility treatments had made her think that being with Kasper forever might mean she would miss out on a vital life experience as Kasper had feared, yet she got over it surprisingly quick. If she and Kasper could love an adopted child even half as much as they loved Tut, they would surely be better parents than either one of them had—and it would have been her privilege to do it.

***

It disappointed him greatly to wake up to an empty bed, that spot where his wife should have been cold and long forgotten by troubles he couldn’t even have begun to imagine. Kasper dressed quickly, cursing himself for so easily sleeping in spite of Emilia’s absence. As annoyed as he was at himself, Kasper was also surprised at Emilia, knowing her tendency to sleep in when given the opportunity. Since it was her final day before returning to school and the last time she would probably see Iram Manor ahead of her Thanksgiving break, maybe she was trying to take in as much of it as she could.

Though they had little time to simmer, the other theories his mind gathered quickly disturbed him. She wouldn’t have gone out riding alone, would she? Driven that old car of hers to town just to spite him? What if she did something more drastic than that even—leaving early without saying goodbye? Kasper knew she was sore at him for not telling her his true intentions for the consultation, but still…

Kasper hurried down the stairs, caring little about the alignment of the buttons on his shirt or whether or not it was properly tucked in. He only knew that when he saw Emilia sitting there at the kitchen island, casually munching on something from a bowl, that familiar sense of relief swept through him as it always did when it concerned her.

“There you are.” She looked at him, smiled, and looked back down to the disheveled newspaper to her side.

He sighed at the doorway and walked in to kiss her forehead. Perhaps Tut too would have been interested in a greeting from Kasper if it were not for the colorful oats and marshmallows Emilia ate. Instead the canine stood behind a puddle of his own slobber, large enough that it threatened to submerge him. Kasper cringed and turned his back to the beast. While he could understand drooling over their shared mistress, that response to a food substance he could not.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed. She sighed to herself, and he watched while Emilia closed the arts section of the New York Times, her smile falling faster than quicksand. “We have to talk about this before I go back to school,” she said. “
Really
talk about it.”

Kasper sighed with that impatience she was all too familiar with. At the same time, he was still grateful, overjoyed really that she was continuing to express her concern for his well-being, that she had such fear for him to begin with. However, it was a bittersweet sensation for his heart; he hated to see her unhappy, and yet he deeply enjoyed having someone worry over him.

“I know you are concerned, and while I appreciate that a great deal, I intend on keeping the appointment for the rhinoplasty.”

“Of course.” She stirred at her cereal remains absent-mindedly. “I couldn’t very well ask you to spend the rest of your life not breathing properly just because I have a few worries. Besides, I understand even the worst of plastic surgeons can do a garden variety nose job.”

Taking her hand in his, Kasper rubbed the black ink from her fingertips. Without question, he did not like the cynicism in Emilia’s voice—a temporary symptom he hoped of a poor night’s sleep and nothing more. “Please do not think I am being dismissive of your worries for me. As I said, I appreciate your concern for my health a great deal. And yet, I think that perhaps—at best—your anxiety should take a “wait and see” initiative. Once the rhinoplasty is complete, you may be more open to the idea of additional surgeries.”

She pulled her hand away. “It isn’t just your
physical
health I’m worried about, Kasper. What if these surgeries don’t have the outcome you want? I don’t want to see you disappointed or heartbroken over something as silly as how you look.”

He leaned back in his seat while she stood up. More than mildly amused by her anger, Kasper continued to observe, listen, and watch while she flung her cereal bowl into the sink.

“Putting that aside, you haven’t had anesthesia since you were a child. What if you have a bad reaction or something? What if you suffer from brain-damage?”

Kasper smiled. If she scrubbed that cereal bowl any harder he thought she might break it. “Then you have written permission to—what is that expression? Pull the plug? Not to mention how well you’d be taken care of.”

“Stop it,” she said, threatening to throw her spoon at him. “You know how much I hate jokes like that.”

Kasper stood up and poured himself a mug of coffee. Of course he knew Emilia hated his dark humor, at least when it came to his demise. “I also know how beautiful you are when you are annoyed at me.”

“Stop trying to flirt with me and be serious. I know you want this, but there are more things to life than your appearance and the things that may revolve around it. You’ve come so far without—” Kasper felt his frown mirror her own. “Being a pretty boy. Why risk your health when you have so much to live for?”

“The technology is more advanced now, the medical staff far more reliable—” He could hardly believe the words coming out of his own mouth.
He
was praising the reliability of those in the healthcare profession? Still, if it could possibly soothe her, Kasper was willing to make a liar out of himself.

“I want to do everything in this life with you, Kasper.” Staring into the soapy remains of the kitchen sink, Emilia visibly became overwhelmed by her emotions. Perhaps, he thought just then, citing technology for his cause was not such as wise idea. How many people died on the operating table decades earlier after saying the same thing? How many people thought that bloodletting was the greatest way to cure someone that ever was or ever would be?

“If I lost you to the vanity of this world—”

“It is because I want to do everything with
you
that I am doing this. I want to be able to escort you to your alumni events, an art gallery opening, take your hand in the park during the day—”

“Do you really, though?” A strange look came over her face as she said this, and the way she stared at the tile made him uneasy.

“Why do you say that, Emilia? You know my decisions revolve around you.”

“It’s nothing.” Blinking hard, Emilia laughed, turning back to him and smiling faintly. “I’ve just been thinking about the logistics. Taylor said these surgeries, even if successful,” she was sure to add, “It could take months if something went wrong, even longer. I was just thinking—”

Emilia paused to stare at her feet. With everything he loved about her, this might have been a habit of hers he genuinely disliked. Whenever she wanted something, attempted to make a request of any kind, she was always prone to this intense hesitation. He adored watching her facial expressions, more often than not, but he wished she would just go ahead and spit it out. “Thinking what? Notwithstanding my
many
gifts, I am not a reader of minds, my dear.”

Playful, she sneered at him. “I was thinking that right now we’re ideal candidates for adoption. We might not be in five years or so.”

He watched her as she moved from the counter to the cupboard where the dog food was stored. And like the well-trained vagrant that he was, the dog followed her without hesitation. Kasper, however, had difficultly following. Though he didn’t have any trouble with her acquiring another dog, he didn’t understand why she would want another mutt when she hardly had time to take care of the one they already had. Additionally, why was she speaking about adoption in such a broad sense? Didn’t animal shelters give those animals away to almost anyone who wanted them—quite literally?

“Adoption? I know you’re against breeders and mills, but you can get another dog whenever you want. That’s hardly—”

She crossed her arms over herself and stared at him with a vengeance. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“No more than usual.”

“I was talking about children.” She coughed awkwardly and leaned back against the sink. “A, um, child.”

Kasper stopped, the cup halfway to his mouth, her words replaying like a sad song that would not become unstuck in his head. He knew this topic would arrive eventually, and he had simply hoped he could put it off for a few years, showing her what the entire world had to offer and what freedom would be like. Then Kasper would plant the idea slowly, showering it and her in the decadence of their financial wealth until she made the choice for herself.