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His Hollow Heart: Chapter 15


Bella

I spent hours crying in bed last night. It finally hit me that my future husband would not be my first. All through high school—many nights of temptation and pressure—I was able to hold on to my innocence and in one split second, it was gone.

Eventually, I sucked it up and convinced myself that it’s not that big of a deal. Another part of me, a crazy part, even came to terms with the fact that it was probably always meant for Cal. I’m not angry, at least, not because of that.

I haven’t been able to face Cal. Words cannot express how sorry I am for everything he’s been through. I don’t even know what happened, and I’m not sure I want the sordid details. No matter what Cal does, I will always have love for him. There is still a piece of my heart saved just for him, and maybe there always will be.

I’ve been sitting at the vanity mirror in my room for almost an hour, brushing my hair and thinking, when someone knocks on the door.

Shaking the thoughts that threaten to keep me under this dark cloud, I push the stool back and get up. I haven’t walked around much today because my body is so sore. It feels like I ran twenty miles and had a jackhammer rammed up my vagina.

“Who is it?” I holler, while making my way to the door.

“It’s Peter. I have something for you.”

Please let it be food. 

I opted out of breakfast this morning. I asked Peter to bring it to my room, but apparently, Mr. Ellis said if I didn’t eat in the dining room with him then I could go hungry. My stomach has been growling ever since. For someone who worries so much about me eating, he has no problem starving me just to get his way.

I open the door and Peter is standing there with a tray holding a glass of water and a couple packets of pills. “What is this?” I ask, picking one of them up.

“Mr. Ellis asked that I bring you this. He said to take the single pills today and begin the others tomorrow.”

I laugh, dropping the packet back down on the tray. “I’m not taking those.”

Peter clears his throat. “He said it’s a morning-after pill and your birth control.”

“Well, you can tell Mr. Ellis that I’m not putting any pill in my mouth that comes from him, and certainly not a morning-after pill.”

“If you’ll just take the tray, I’ll relay the message.”

“Or,” I emphasize, “you could give me the Wi-Fi password and some service on my phone and I could call and tell him myself.”

Peter just stands there, dumbfounded.

“Fine. Gimme the tray.” I take it from him, knowing that this isn’t his fault. Boss’s orders, after all.

Peter leaves and I close the door before setting the tray on my nightstand. I sit down on the bed and look at the little packets. I pick one up, the morning-after pill, and study it while I think.

The chances of me being pregnant are slim to none, but even if they were high, I’m not sure I would take this. I’m also not sure that I wouldn’t. On one hand, it would be my baby. On the other, it would also be Cal’s. We’d be connected for life, even more so than we already are.

Regardless, I drop the packet back down. Just as it hits the tray, the door flies open. “Take the damn pill, Bella.”

“No!” I huff, getting to my feet. I’m tempted to pick the tray up and throw it at him, glass of water and all.

He pins me with a stare. “Why not?”

“Because it was your mistake, not mine. I shouldn’t have to put something into my body because you couldn’t take a minute to pull your dick out of me.”

He tsks, “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“Your ego is far too big for your head. You need to get that under control.”

“And your mouth opens too much for someone who has nothing to say.”

“Oh,” I laugh, “I have a lot to say, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to know when to just keep my mouth shut.”

“Fine. You want to risk having a baby with me. Don’t take the pill.”

My fingers tangle in my well-brushed hair. “God, you’re so infuriating.”

“And you’re a royal pain in the ass.”

I drop my hands and go to move across the room to get away from him. “Then just let me leave and…” My words trail off when a sharp pain shoots through me. I try to play it off like it’s nothing, but Cal takes notice.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

I walk back over to the bed and sit down. “I ran into the bedpost earlier. I’m fine.”

Cal comes to my side where I sit and crouches down, looking at my leg. “Where?”

I’m wearing shorts, so I probably should have come up with a better lie.

“There’s no bruise. It’s nothing.” I grab a pillow and hold it in my lap.

“You’re lying. You’re in pain from last night, aren’t you? Did I hurt you?” The realization that he did hits him and I’m shocked at his response. “I did.”

“Just drop it.”

“Peter,” Cal calls out, “Come here, please.”

Is this guy just lurking around every corner or what? He seems to always be there.

Peter comes into the room and Cal shifts his attention to him. “Please bring Bella an ice pack. Make it three, or four. And some pain reliever and something to help her sleep tonight. Make it quick.”

Cal’s expression hardens as he kneels on the floor. “Were you a virgin up until last night?”

I take a deep breath and look away from him. It shouldn’t matter. And I’m not embarrassed at all, I just don’t want Cal to act as if this is some sort of a big deal, even though it is, to me. He didn’t take advantage of me and I never tried to stop him, but I also didn’t want it. I certainly wasn’t prepared for it.

“Yes. Okay. I was planning on waiting until I was married.”

Cal runs his fingers through his hair and growls, “Dammit, Bella. Why didn’t you stop me?”

My shoulders shrug as I hug the pillow tighter. “Heat of the moment, I guess.”

Cal runs his fingers through his hair, deep in thought. Finally, he looks back up at me. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. I’m sorry your first time had to be like that. I’m sorry I hurt you. Fuck!” he shouts. “I’m a monster. I’m a goddamn monster.”

“No. You’re not a monster, Cal. Not for that.”

“I would have never—”

“I know. Or at least, I think I know. Please, don’t make this into a big deal.” Humiliation begins to take over. I’m no longer angry; I just hope he doesn’t drag this out.

Peter returns at the perfect moment with the items Cal requested and I’m instructed to stay in bed for the remainder of the day with both Cal and Peter at my beck and call.

I had breakfast, ice cream for dessert, lunch, pie for dessert, dinner, a brownie for dessert, and even more ice cream before bed.

I really think that telling Cal the truth was the best decision I’ve made since I’ve been here.


I’m on my way to the fourth floor to go over some designs with Cal for the guest rooms and it feels nice to be doing something productive today, although I’m sure the tension between us will be high. Today is all about business and I’m really hoping Cal can behave professionally.

He was so tender and attentive yesterday, so today, I’m holding on to that version of him.

I ended up taking the birth control and pain reliever but stuffed the morning-after pill into the drawer of my nightstand, along with the sleep aid. I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry with the birth control. I’m not sure if I’ll ever have sex with Cal again, but if I do, I certainly don’t want to have his baby.

The elevator stops on the sixth floor and Cal steps inside, clutching a book under his arm while I grip the notebook hanging from my hand. I take note of his book. “The Great Gatsby, again?” I say as the doors shut.

He holds the book out in front of him. It’s the same hardcover first edition he had when we were kids. I swear he read it at least a dozen times in those four years.

Our past is an anchor and a weight on us, no matter how hard we try to go forward,” he quotes a line from the book. “Each time reading it is like the first.” He tucks it back under his arm when we come to a stop on the fourth floor. “After you.” He waves a hand in a gentlemanly manner.

I could debate that line and tell him that we’re allowed to let go of the anchor, but I’m picking my battles today and that’s not one of them.

When I step out of the elevator, Cal follows, eventually walking in step with me as we make our way down the hall. “Are you feeling any better today?” he asks, looking at my legs to see if I’m walking with a wobble.

“Much better. Thank you.”

It’s my first time on this floor and it’s obvious there’s a lot of work to be done. “What made you decide on floors two through five for the rooms?”

“Easy. Eight has the best view. I plan to spend a lot of time on this island and want my own living space. The sixth floor is for staff, as well as the library. The seventh is for entertainment. And you know that the first floor is the kitchen.”

“Do you have your own space at all your hotels?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “only my favorites.”

We stop in front of one of the rooms and Cal opens the door, stepping aside to allow me in first. “All the rooms on this floor will be furnished with a bed, television, and a minibar. All the rooms on the east side have a private balcony. The rooms on the west do not.”

They’re good-sized and I see so much potential. “Do you have a theme in mind?” I pull the pen out of the binding of my notebook, ready to take notes.

“I’ve decided to go with a regal theme. We utilize the same theme at our most popular resort in Eastern Europe. My team thinks that having one in the states would attract American tourists from all over the country.”

“Okay,” I nod, “and the color scheme?”

“That’s up to you. I’m not a fashion guru, or a designer.”

“You mean, assuming you’ll take my advice?”

Cal gives me a side-eye. “Assuming.”

I bite back a smile. “Okay, then. Gold and burgundy it is.” I step farther into the room, decorating it in my head. “For the suites, I definitely think there should be working fireplaces. Maybe Tudor windows and clawfoot tubs similar to the one in my bathroom.”

“I think we can work with that.”

We finish going over some ideas for the guest rooms when my hunger pangs strike. Cal glances at his wristwatch as we’re standing quietly in the elevator. He gives me a look. He must’ve heard my stomach growl. “Damn, it’s already four o’clock. We didn’t even have lunch. Where the hell did the time go?”

 “Guess it’s early dinner tonight.” I look back down at all the notes I took today. Cal mentioned setting up a conference call with another designer, as well as the contractors who will be doing the renovations. My first week here has been a whirlwind of emotions and it feels good to throw myself into work. I can really use the distraction, and I’m sure Cal can, too.

“To make it up to you, I’d like to take you out for dinner tonight,” Cal says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He begins tapping on the screen.

“Take me out?” I laugh. “We’re on an island away from civilization.”

“You let me handle that.” He sticks his phone back in his front pocket when the elevator doors open. “Pick out a nice dinner dress and meet me in the sitting room in one hour.” He steps out and begins down the hallway.

Stepping out behind him, I hang back, giving us some space.

Out for dinner? Like a date? 

I’m not sure what to think. I’m also not sure where he plans to go. He said ‘out.’ Maybe outdoors in the courtyard. It is one of my favorite places on this property and dinner under the stars sounds perfect; it’s the company I’m worried about. Cal and I aren’t able to go more than five minutes without butting heads.

Regardless of the plans, I’m excited to do something other than hang out in my room and listen to Mozart while pacing the floors. Last night I asked Peter if there was a television, with possibly Netflix or Hulu; he told me that Cal doesn’t watch TV. Who doesn’t watch TV? It’s insane. I’ve got no idea what the staff does for fun, or even to just relax, but it seems they just lie in bed and stare at their ceilings.

I’ll never live like that—ever.

The realization that Cal expects me to stay here hits full force. A feeling of dread sweeps through me. Like a dark cloud lingering overhead waiting for a storm to ride in.

No. It’s temporary, not a life sentence.

Once Cal is inside his room with the door closed, I continue down the hall to my room. I’m not sure what dress I’ll wear tonight, but Cal said dinner, so it definitely won’t be one of the ball gowns, even if I am itching to try on the peach-colored one with a sewn-in crinoline.

I get to my room and before I even open the door, I decide on the form-fitting black velvet dress. I’ve shuffled through all the dresses a few times and they’re all so glamorous. Something I certainly am not. Naturally, I dreamt that one day I would be, but all little girls have those dreams. I guess Cal heard about mine, once or too many times, and decided it was his place to try and make them all come true, even if he is going about it the wrong way.

Making a beeline straight for the closet, I head for the black dress. They are organized by color, so it’s easy to find since there are only a couple black ones. My fingers run over the velvety fabric and I’m assured that this is the one. I pull it down and drape it over my arm while I search for a pair of shoes.

I pull a couple pairs off the shelf, sticking them all back on when I spot the perfect ones. They’re also black with a small heel, straps that ride up the ankle, and they’ll look amazing with this dress.

This might not be an actual date, and I might possibly despise Cal, but there’s no reason I can’t have a little fun with it. Lord knows I’m not doing anything else during my stay, especially having fun. Well, aside from the three times Cal fingered me, and the one time he stole my virginity. I wouldn’t say that was fun, as much as it was satisfying. The first time, I think he awoke something inside of me. A part of me that was hiding and craving to be unleashed. Not so much a freaky side, but a curious side. When I’m with him, intimately, I feel sexy—powerful and carefree.

Stripping out of my clothes, I drop them in the hamper next to my closet. Every evening when I return from dinner, the hamper is emptied and clean clothes are set neatly on my bed. I assume it’s Paulina, although I have yet to meet her.

I step one foot into the dress then the other and slide it up my body. My arms go into the straps and I lift them into place, while admiring myself in the mirror. It fits perfectly, hugging my waist and hips. I’m not wearing a bra, since this one has built in cups, leaving the perfect amount of cleavage peeking out the top.

My hands slide down my sides and I bite the corner of my lip. Something about this dress makes me feel provocative.

Reaching my hand behind me, I zip the back up as much as I can. I’ll have to get some help to get it the rest of the way up.

Fortunately, after soaking in a nice long bath last night and wrapping my head in a towel while I slept, my natural curls are intact, so I opt for leaving it down.

After I dab on some light makeup, I smack my lips together and head out. It’s been well over an hour and I’m sure Cal is waiting impatiently for me to meet him in the sitting room.

You’d think I’m on my way to my first date ever with how fast my heart is racing. I’m not sure why I feel so nervous. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a formal dinner with anyone before. Now that I think about it, Trent has never taken me on an actual date. We’ve gone to the movies, grabbed dinner, and gone to a few dance clubs, but they weren’t dates—at least, it didn’t feel that way.

Oh my God, I am going on my first date.


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