The Billionaire Playboy's Regret (Lark and Max) novel Chapter 80

Lark was seated next to Ollie and Santiago on the jet heading home to Dallas.

Today was going to be hell. There was no other way to describe what she knew they were all going through. Saying last goodbyes to Nana Prue was going to be devastating. Not knowing what was happening with Gracie every second they were away was making it worse.

She was numb. At this current moment, despite everyone else’s heightened emotions, she was certain her body no longer produced tears. Watching the medical staff load Max into a chopper on the roof of the hospital, she’d felt cold when she’d been unable to sympathize with his complaints and barely grazed his cheek in a goodbye peck. When her mother kissed Gracie’s forehead and told her softly, they would be back soon, she could have been watching strangers interact. When her father fell to his knees inside the hangar where the private jet was housed, she felt devoid of emotion and while her mother and sister rushed to hold him, she remained focused on the casket, her chin uplifted and not a tear in sight. He was now seated up front, his best friends and wife constantly checking in on him and she was near the back of the plane away from the raw emotions.

She felt Heriberto shift on the aisle seat opposite her and listened without understanding as he spoke with his brother in Spanish. Her eyes fixed to the front of the plane wondering whether her parents were disappointed in her for avoiding them, but she felt she possessed nothing else to give.

She looked up in surprise when Ollie and Santiago both rose and moved out of their seats and took the spaces on Heriberto’s side of the plane and the other man came and sat with her.

“It is normal,” he said quietly as he took the seat beside her.

“What is?”

“What you’re feeling.”

She gave him a sideways glance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your family, all of them, have noticed you’ve shut off. They’re worried for you. There was a large discussion earlier about how you woke up this morning a different person. Your mother noticed it first. Santiago and I were part of the conversation and we’ve reassured them all, this is normal.”

“How would you know?”

“You are talking about two men who grew up in a world where trauma, violence and the constant overstimulation of familial demands can make it hard to do anything but merely survive. Right now, you are in survival mode. We have been there, where you are.”

“I am?” she turned to face him completely.

“You are. You haven’t processed anything yet Lark.” He lifted her hand between his and held it. “Your beloved grandmother has passed away. The man you’re in love with almost died. Your sister is in a coma. Her father died right in front of you. The man you lived with for a year and thought you were going to marry caused much of this and instead of being able to confront him, which we,” he flicked a finger between himself and the man in the opposite aisle, “felt strongly you should have been permitted to do but were vetoed, he died too soon. You are running on what is likely less than ten cumulative hours of sleep over a five-day period. Right now, your brain is telling you to simply get through this and you can deal with the rest tomorrow.” He paused, “tomorrow never comes, Lark.”

“I feel all cried out.” She exhaled slowly.

“Which makes sense. I have seen how hard you have cried the day all of this happened, when it still shocking and raw. Yet, for all the crying, you haven’t really had time to sit and process everything which has happened. You know, the Villeneuve group all have talked to their therapists.”

“I have a therapist and she and I have chatted, but I don’t need extra sessions.” She shook her head refusing to do so.”

Max already wants me to start couples therapy with him, so we start our future and marriage off on a healthy foundation. I think it will be more than enough therapy for my brain to take.”

“You have never been one to dump all your emotions out, have you Lark?” Heriberto gave a chuckle as he played with her fingers. “You keep things close to your chest. You’re cool, calm, and collected. You’ve needed to be because your friends are the emotional equivalents of napalm. It’s what makes you a good lawyer.”

“Am I broken?”

“No. See,” he twiddled her fingers, “when you are constantly surrounded by chaos and extreme situations, when the world gets louder, you get quiet. Santiago and I, we both do the same. Later, when you’re alone with your thoughts, after you’ve enjoyed a good amount of sleep, you will work through whatever it is you’re feeling. Whether you decide to beat the s**t out of someone, f**k like an animal or go into a courtroom and obliterate an opponent coldly and meticulously, you will work through it. You’ll cry again. I’m sure of it. Right now, though, you’re surviving because your body knows, if one more thing happens and you’re already crying, you might not stop.”

“Have you ever felt you couldn’t stop crying? Like it was too much.”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

“I bought a ranch.” He chuckled draping an arm over her shoulder and letting her rest her head on his. “I put animals on it which needed my care, and it took the focus off feeling dead inside and little by little I began to feel alive again.”

“I don’t feel dead, but I do feel numb.” She admitted quietly. “Heriberto, why am I so comfortable with you?”