Once Bitten Twice Shy

*January 7*

What was that dripping sound? It sounded like an echo, a noise from far away repeating itself in an effort to wake her up. What had happened?

Her eyes pulled open but she wasn't able to see much, her vision was foggy and her mind was blur. The car door fell open and she found herself struggling to crawl out, unsure of what was happening but all she knew was that she had to crawl and so she did. She kept crawling.

Her head pounded, eating at her strength as she pulled herself through the rough ground. As dizzy as she was, she could only recognise a few things; the horrible smell of smoke and the dark small cave sitting in the hills not very far from her.

Her groan was loud and painful. There was a sting in the lower part of her body that she couldn't assimilate at that moment and so she continued to crawl.

When she was finally in the cave, her hands began to wobble. They had taken her to the destination and couldn't do anything more. She begged them to let her go deeper into the cave but they were bent on their stance. And so she gave in.

After one last effort to remember what had happened or even who she was, Tiffany's head fell on the hard stony ground of the cave. The vertigo in her head had stopped and the stinging pain in her legs was no longer.

She laid in her faint. An arm supporting her small head and her legs shut tight. She laid unconscious and heavily asleep in the icy winter cold.

• • • • • • • • ֎ • • • • • • • •

Tiffany pounded on the half-glass half-wooden door, her heart racing uncontrollably. She was in a panic. The memory that had woken her up from her rest in the freezing cave. What had happened?

"Brea!" she called onto her long loyal secretary and best friend. "Brea, it's me, open the door."

She pounded louder, trying not to think the worse of what had happened.

Images flashed through her mind. The gun on the driver's hand. The car smashing the side of the bridge. Christian's face when it toppled over. She quickly shut her eyes and blinked rapidly trying her very best not to think the worse. She had escaped, so maybe he did too.

She saw Brea's surprised gaze through the glass on the door and then heard her fumbling with the lock.

The door opened a crack and Brea's shocked face peeked around the edge. "Ma'am?" she asked with a confused frown.

Tiffany gazed at her, not exactly sure as to why she was so stupefied to see her.

"Miss Andrews!" Brea exclaimed, opening the door wider and embracing her ever so tightly.

Tiffany hugged her back, a glint of happiness softened her fear as she acknowledged the love of her secretary.

"What happened?" Brea asked, pulling her gently inside the house. "Where have you been?"

"I. . ." Tiffany couldn't find herself able to bring what had happened into words. Infact, only tiny pieces of it was in her mind at that moment. Certainly not enough pieces to complete a puzzle.

Brea gave her a mug of coffee, brushing her hair off the side of her face and dusting her cheek.

"You look rough, ma'am," she said. "When we heard about the accident we. . ."

Tiffany hurriedly put that down the coffee, gulping the huge quantity that she had put in her mouth.

"The accident," she said. "Christian? Where is he?"

Brea's face worsened. She didn't just look worried now but she was terrified. The look she had affrighted Tiffany the more.

"Oh my God, you don't know?" Brea asked, dismayed.

"I don't know what?" The sound of panic in Tiffany's voice was evident. Her fingers began to shake and her eyes started to tear up. Maybe she was wrong, maybe she did have to think the worst.

"What don't I know, Brea!" she shrieked. Her voice sounded wet and despondent.

"Ma'am, after the accident, Christian was rushed to the hospital," Brea replied. "His injuries were extremely fatal and he was bleeding from his head and like everywhere."

A drop of tears fell to her lips and Tiffany licked it up, cleaning her lips in the process as she started to cry. "What. . . what happened to him, Brea?"

"I don't know," she replied. "What I keep hearing is that he's in a serious coma. A really serious coma, ma'am. The doctors are not even sure he's going to wake up."

Tamara opened her mouth to gasp but only the dry air rushed into her throat and she almost began to choke. She turned around, heading for the door as Brea followed closely behind her.

"Where are you going, ma'am?" she asked, holding her by the shoulder.

"I have to go," Tiffany replied. "I have to see him."

"You're in no state to go anywhere. Talk more of even driving!"

"I have to go, Brea!" she yelled at the very top of her voice. "I must go and you are not going to stop me."

Brea completely understood why she had to go and she also didn't plan to stop her.

"Okay," she said. "But let me drive you."

The atmosphere of the hospital was extremely tense. Tiffany could sense it. Was it only because of Christian that it was? Was there something else to it? What was going to happen to him? Will she ever get to even be with him?

These questions flew in and out of her mind as she tore her way through the people in the hospital.

"Good morning," she greeted the receptionist, quickly wiping her tears and sniffing but not quick enough for the receptionist not to notice.

"Good morning, ma'am," the receptionist replied. "How can I help you?"

"I'm here to see someone?"

Brea rubbed softly on Tamara's back, attempting to soothe her as she spoke.

"Alright," the receptionist concurred, picking up a file she had on her table. "A patient? Who are they if so?"

"Yes, a patient. Christian Salazar, he was brought in last night from a car accident."

Almost impulsively, the receptionist closed the file and shook her head. "I'm sorry but Christian Salazar cannot receive visitors."

A look of terror and yet confusion plastered on Tiffany's face. "Why? Is he in surgery or?" "His family has refused for any visitors to come see him." Disbelief. It settled on Tiffany like a tide. She found herself unable to comprehend what she had just been told. "I'm sorry, what? I'm his fiancée," she announced, eyeing the receptionist as she looked down on her fingers for a ring. "How can I not be allowed to see him?" "I'm sorry ma'am but no one else but family is allowed to see the patient." And now it was anger. It grew in her as she stared at the receptionist's blunt face.

"Do you fucking know who I am?" she asked, angrily. "Alright let's go, ma'am." Brea held on to Tiffany, slowly pulling her away from the reception office. "No, Brea. What the hell!" Tiffany continued to tantrum. "What the fuck is the meaning of this?" "Miss Andrews?" Tamara turned around to see a very familiar face. Hernandez, her ex-lover. He was in a white coat with gloves on his hand and extremely large googles settling on his nose. He looked good as a doctor. "Hernandez?" she asked. A glimmer of hope shone on her eyes. "Wha- what's going on?" Hernandez queried. "You look like hell. Why are you here?" "I'm here to see someone. Christian Salazar, he was brought in last night." Hernandez frowned confusingly. "Yeah, he's in one of the rooms over there. You know him?" "Yes, I do," Tiffany replied quickly, snubbing the look on Hernandez's face. "The receptionist won't let me in." "Well, why's that?" "She just won't. She says the family doesn't want anyone else going to see him." "Hold on, let me see what I can do." Hernandez walked to the receptionist while Tiffany and Brea waited back. Her fingers didn't stop shaking though, so she clenched them and moved her body around to stop herself from overthinking. Her eyes kept moving to the direction Hernandez had earlier pointed to, where Christian was been kept. She tried to imagine his unconscious body on the hospital bed but it worried her even more and before she knew it, her fingers were unclenched and were shaking again. Hernandez returned back to them. "Alright," he said. "I got you three minutes." "Three minutes?" Tiffany asked painfully. "That was all I could do, Tiff. I'm sorry." "It's okay, it's okay," she assured. "Thank you." She eyed the receptionist hatefully as she hurried towards the room Hernandez had directed her to. Her heat pounding faster at every step she took. Once she arrived at the door, the door nob twisted and it opened by itself, catching Tiffany by surprise. An elderly lady stood in front of her, her hair was almost grey and she was quite small. The frame of her glasses seemed to be actual gold and her lipstick was too faddish for a woman her age. Tiffany blinked. "How can I help you?" the woman asked. "Uh. . . I just. . . I wanna see Christian," Tiffany replied. "I was with him the night of the accident and I-" "No, you were not!" the woman basted. "Excuse me?" Tiffany was slightly overwhelmed by the woman's outburst. "My son was alone in the car with his driver," the woman said. "There was no one else found with him. I do not know who you are, woman." *Son?* "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, ma'am. Your son has told you about me and me about you. I'm his fiancée, Tiffany Andrews? I was in the car with him but I managed to crawl myself out and I fainted." "My son has never told me about any Tiffany Andrews and my son is not engaged. I don't know who you are, imposter. Or what kind of fraud this is but I'm asking you to get out of here right this moment." Tiffany's shock knew no bounds. This woman must be lying. *Why would she be lying?* *Why wouldn't she want me to see him?* "Ma'am, I'm confused." Her eyes once again began to tear up. "I'm very sure you know who I am, ma'am. This is the ring your son gave to me, he said it was a family heirloom so I am sure you must know I am saying the truth. Why are you treating me this way? Please, please let me just see him." The woman heaved deeply, a scowl of irritation on her face. "You leave now," she said. "You leave now and you never come back. You've done enough harm as it is. You have nothing with my son, not any longer. I don't want to see your face any more than I have already, Tiffany Andrews. Not while my son is in coma and not ever." Tiffany's eyes widened. What was this betrayal? Her head once again began to feel dizzy, the walls of the room closed in as tears fell off her eyes. "Please?" she begged. "I love him. He loves me so too, please let me see him." "Get out now." But Tiffany couldn't. Even if she wanted to, her legs felt stuck to the ground as the walls continued to close in on her. Her head spun around and her eyes fogged. Her body felt heavy and she couldn't keep up any longer. Everything turned off and she fell. Once again, in her faint.

*Two Months Later* Like numbers, Tiffany counted the days. She had made two calendars; one for how long she had been without Christian, without seeing him, touching him or even talking to him. It had been forty-six days. The other for how long she had been with another life inside of her. It was a news she didn't exactly know how to receive. One part of her was overjoyed at the idea of being a mother and the other part was drenched in pain and sadness over the idea of being a mother - without Christian by her side. It had been twenty-two days. She sipped the hot chocolate that she had prepared for herself, turning on the television to her favourite show. Maybe that would take her mind off things, she presumed. But the ringing of her phone interrupted her plans for the day. "Brea?" she answered, dropping her cup of hot chocolate on the kitchen table. "I know I've not been in the office in a while, I still need you to cover for me." "Ma'am, it's about Christian," Brea said.

At the mention of his name, Tiffany's heart beat fastened. She took a second to process what Brea might want to tell her and when she was ready to hear it, she asked.

"What about him, Brea?"

• • • • • • • • ֎ • • • • • • • •

Tiffany couldn't believe it. How wicked were Christian's family? Yes, he had told her that they were very controlling and traditional. But that had to be the max of it, there was no way anyone could do this to a person. Intentionally too.

Christian had woken up from his coma almost two weeks ago and Tiffany had no information about it. How had Brea known? Hernandez had told her in a conversation, surprised himself that she wasn't aware.

Tiffany suspected that both of them might be dating.

So there she was, speeding on the roads of California, her mind racing. She turned up the road, a feeling of isolation as she crossed the creek on the narrow one-lane bridge and drove into another narrow dark canyon.

She knew where she was going to, Nathan had told her about his family home a lot of times and also how to get there but she had never been to the popular place. The directions were registered in her GPS though.

As she drove, the canyon opened up to her surprise and right in the middle of the small valley sat a huge, white Arthurian house. It towered three stories, maybe more. Tiffany couldn't exactly make anything of the building's architecture. It wasn't exactly a hospitable home but it stank of wealthiness and extravagant traditional privileged lifestyle. There were no Christmas lights stretched across the eaves. It was late in February but most houses like this were always lazy to take down Christmas decorations until later in the year. Under the grayness of the approaching snowstorm, the place looked even more whiter than it could've on a good summer morning.

Tiffany pulled her car in front of it and killed the engine. She sat for a moment, taking multiple deep breaths. She was about to walk into the Lion's Den and as worried as she was about his family, she knew Nathan would be glad to see her. Why hadn't he called after a week of his release from the hospital? There was several reasons for that but that wasn't what she wanted to think about.

"Alright, Tiffany," she spoke to herself, tapping her tummy. "Let's do this." She opened the car door and came out of her vehicle.

It didn't seem like anyone was at home. There were no dogs running to greet or bite her. The few vehicles that were parked along the side of the house were entirely covered with snow. She remembered Christian saying they had a ranch by the side of the house. It was a big land but she didn't see any horses.

An uneasiness raised goosebumps on her skin. She looked up. There was a face peering out at her from a large window under the eave above the third floor. The face suddenly disappeared, shadowing into the dark. The uneasy feeling remained though.

"Well, someone's home," Tiffany muttered to herself. "And now the family knows I'm here." One more deep breath was taken before she mounted the steps.

A young Italian woman answered the door with a dish towel in her free hand. "Yes?" she inquired, eyeing Tamara disdainfully.

"Hello, I'm Tiffany Andrews," Tiffany said. "I'm here to see Christian Salazar."

"On what regard?" she asked, even more cool and reserved than before. Tiffany tried to decipher whether or not she was the same person she had seen peering at her through the window, she concluded that she wasn't.

"It's quite personal," Tiffany said meaningfully as she opened her coat and tapped her tummy. "Christian would understand when he sees me."

"Hmm," the woman scowled.

"Would you just please tell Christian that I'm here? Tiffany Andrews. He knows who I am." Tiffany started to step into the foyer but the woman blocked her way.

"My apologies Miss, but Mr. Salazar isn't seeing anyone at the moment."

Tamara scoffed. "He would want to see me."

The woman once again, blocked her entry. "I cannot let you pass, I h-"

"I'll take care of this, Marta," called a feminine voice from some distance behind the woman.

The very moment Marta moved out of the doorway, Tamara stepped in from the cold, breathing a sigh of relief. She rubbed her palms together and took out a pair of mittens from her coat.

Tiffany started to understand how Christian always had such arty and exquisite taste because it was no surprise to her that inside of the house was as ornate as the outside. It was glassy, intentionally glassy. There were statues of goblins placed on both sides of the stairs and little warmth resonated in the room, from the bright hardwood floors to the bright red carpet and gigantic rose-shaped chandelier. The Christmas tree was still standing though, which surprised her a little. She admitted to herself that Christian's family was probably fancier than she had presumed.

"Who are you?" the woman asked. Her voice sharp and pitched. She assessed Tiffany, from her sharp brown eyes to her skinny long legs. Tiffany could tell that she was surprised by what she saw. "Why are you looking for Christian?"

"I'm his fiancée, Tiffany Andrews."

The woman's laugh wasn't appealing in the closest, it angered Tiffany by how loud and sharp it was, biting it's way through the silence of the corridor. "His fiancée?" she mimicked. "Chris doesn't have a fiancée."

"Mhm, I assure you does." It was Tiffany's turn to assess the woman. She was strikingly tall for a lady, she had to be close to six foot two - but also with her imposing manner, Tiffany couldn't exactly tell.

A devilish smile remained on the woman's face. "Even if what you're saying is true, I would advise you to leave and never come back."

Tiffany frowned. It was the second time she was told that by a member of Christian's family. It angered her.

"You see, I keep being told that but I don't know why. Why are you all stopping me from seeing Christian? Its not like you're going to change his mind. He loves me."

"Hmm." The woman smiled hellishly once again. "You never know."