Stories from a lost anth.., p.1
The Restoration Program: A Twisted Romantic Suspense Novel (The Restoration Program Trilogy Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2023 Mary Dublin and Anne Kendsley
All rights reserved 2023.
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.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 979-8-9884901-0-4
Cover design by: Mary Dublin
Printed in the United States of America
To our readers. Thank you for joining us in dreaming of these crazy, fantastical worlds.
Praise
"Thought-provoking, sexy, and brilliantly f*cked up! It’s an emotional roller coaster of a story that kept me gripped like watching a house on fire."
-Grace O'Hare, author of The Moth and the Bear
"I was hooked."
-Skylar, Goodreads Reviewer
“Everything from the writing, to the world building to the character development were fantastic... Absolutely mind blowing.”
-Calliope, Goodreads Reviewer
“I was left speechless… I have not been able to stop thinking about since I finished it.”
-Melissa Smith, Goodreads Reviewer
By Anne Kendsley and Mary Dublin
Content warning: contains mature themes, depictions of emotional abuse, and sexual assault. Intended for appropriate readers age 18+.
BEFORE
Ryan refused to believe Nicole was going to die before he got a chance to marry her.
“Sir! Sir, you can’t go in there!”
The nurse’s shouts fell on deaf ears as Ryan burst past the double doors to follow the gurney, nearly slipping on the rainwater that dripped from his clothes. A pair of footsteps chased after him.
Paramedics surrounded the gurney and exchanged clipped commands. They were almost robotic. Ryan’s breath stuttered when he finally caught a glimpse of her between the hospital personnel. Nicole looked nothing like herself. Thick gashes and discoloration protruded beneath a cloudy oxygen mask, marring her face beyond recognition. Even secured to the gurney, her body looked battered beyond repair.
Amidst the chaos, the heart monitor blared unceasingly.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A voice snapped from behind. “Mr. Northe! You need to come back!”
“Nicole!” Ryan caught up, forcing a gap between the medics. “Nicole, I’m here! I’m here.”
One of the nurses gripped his arm. “You need to stay back! I won’t ask again. We’ll do everything we—”
He muscled himself free, racing to keep up with the gurney. He cried her name, begged her to wake up, but her eyes remained shut. Three staff members restrained him while Nicole was wheeled away through another set of doors. All the fight left his body when she vanished. The world spun violently, every sound assaulting him.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“She’s not gone, right?” He turned to one of the nurses, manic. “Tell me she’s going to make it. Please.”
“She’s going into surgery. Let us do our jobs, and we’ll do everything we can to help.”
Ryan stared straight ahead, unable to catch his breath. Every sense blurred, every sound beyond her heart monitor ebbed and faded. Part of him wanted to chase after Nicole. Part of him wanted to collapse where he stood. But as the hospital workers tried to coax him back into the waiting room, he stayed rooted, gaze distant.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was as jarring as his phone alarm—the one that had woken him up that morning.
The bed had already been empty when his eyes fluttered open. He’d fumbled to shut off the damn alarm, intrigued by the smell of coffee in the air. It was barely six-thirty. Nicole was never up that early.
He threw on his joggers and glanced cautiously at the door before kneeling to reach behind the nightstand drawer. There was a nook in the back, perfect for hiding the ring box. It was one of the few places he knew Nicole wouldn’t come across it by accident in all the shuffling during the move.
The weight of the world seemed to rest within the box he held in his palm. He slipped it into his pocket, as he did every morning. Maybe this would be the day that spontaneity possessed him to pop the question.
Soft sounds of movement led him to the kitchen. The stale smell of new paint was masked by maple sausages and pancakes.
A sapphire-blue slip hung off Nicole’s slender frame. She stood by the stove with a spatula in hand, scrutinizing a bubbling circle of batter.
He hovered in the doorway and imagined himself sneaking up from behind and dropping to one knee behind her. His hand twitched for his pocket, but she caught sight of him before he could follow through. She brightened at once, beckoning.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Ryan said, accepting the coffee she offered him. “You must’ve been up since five, at least.”
“I know. I’m just the best.” Nicole’s dark hair was still down—he loved the way her soft tresses looked when she first woke up: tousled, effortless, and begging to be played with.
A glint shined in her eyes this morning. She licked pancake batter off her thumb, her gaze simmering as she made sure he heard the pop of her lips against her skin. Daring him to do something about it.
Who would refuse?
Ryan all but tossed his mug aside to corner her against the counter and kiss her until she twisted away to rescue the burning pancake. He let his hips rest heavily against her ass, arms wrapped around her waist as she shuffled the pancake onto a plate. Part of him hoped she’d feel the box in his pocket and comment on it.
Do you have something in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
Both. Will you marry me?
Tearing off a piece of pancake, Nicole turned to feed him a bite.
“Don’t get any ideas about this Stepford Wife treatment becoming a regular thing,” she said. “It’s a special occasion.”
His heart skipped a beat. Wife. “Which is?”
“Your first day at your new job, of course,” Nicole chirped, pouring another pancake with some difficulty as he kept her pinned to the counter. Not that he heard any complaint.
Ryan kissed her shoulder. “It’s my third week, babe.”
“Okay, so… I’m celebrating a little late. Sue me. But we didn’t have the pans unpacked until now, so I was biding my time. Plus, we finally got the last of the moving boxes out of here. So now I can finally breathe, you know?”
“That is worth celebrating,” Ryan mused, glancing around.
Gratitude swelling in his chest, he squeezed Nicole tighter and reflected on the eighteen months she had endured during his rigorous coursework for his financial planner certification. She had never faltered in her support, even when he’d been a bit of a nightmare leading up to the test. Having passed and acquired an impressive position at a notable firm, he was ready to make it up to her, day by day. He would give her patience meaning, and together, they would make this apartment a home.
Done, he told himself, reaching for his pocket.
No, he argued. Gotta time it right. Gotta make this special.
His hand rerouted to slide up her thigh, under her nightgown. He captivated her with expert strokes and thrusts of his fingers until the smoke alarm went off, forcing them apart.
“You’re so cooking me breakfast tomorrow,” Nicole panted.
As he hurried the abandoned pan to the sink to cool, he stole a glimpse of Nicole’s flushed cheeks and her heaving chest. The ash of the neglected batter felt like a very worthwhile trade, indeed.
They managed to salvage the sausages and coffee, at least.
“Why do other couples make morning routines seem so dull?” Nicole asked around her mouthful.
Ryan grinned across at her. “They’re all idiots, I guess.”
“We should almost burn the place to the ground more often.” She giggled, giving that adorable snort he loved.
For a few quiet seconds, he soaked in her smile. It would be criminal to take that sight for granted. In the months after her dad passed, it seemed to take every ounce of her energy to manage a fake perk of her lips. And now, as she caught him staring, her grin brightened readily.
“What?” she asked with her fork halfway in her mouth. “Babe, you’d tell me if my hair was on fire, right?”
He chuckled. “It’s just… you.”
“Me?” She tossed her hair back and lifted her eyebrows with playful conceit. “Oh, I know. But feel free to go on.”
“You know I would, but then we’d be here all morning.”
They finished breakfast and did the dishes together, laughing as they both tried to scrape the burnt remains off the pan.
As they got ready for the day in the bedroom, Ryan discreetly moved the ring to his work pants. Meanwhile, Nicole gathered her clothes with a spring in her step.
“Work’s been that good?” he asked.
She smiled slyly. “Well, yes, but I’m mostly looking forward to lunch. Darlene went on about this amazing Italian place downtown. She surprised me with food yesterday, so I’m gonna return the favor today.
“Darlene… Is she the one who’s obsessed with cats?”
“That’s Joyce. Keep up. Anyway, I’m glad to have an excuse to see more of the city.”
He perked at an idea. “Hey, with the unpacking out of the way, why don’t we go explore the city this weekend?” He’d ask her then. He’d have time to make it perfect, no more distractions or excuses.
“Sounds like a plan,” Nicole said, struggling to reach the zipper on the back of her blouse. “Help me with this?” She came up to him as he finished buttoning his shirt. She gave her back to him, pushing her hair out of the way.
As he zipped the blouse, he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. They nearly ended up tangled together again, but they managed to break apart with a promise to pick up where they left off when they got home.
Clouds gathered densely overhead as they parted ways to their cars. By now, Ryan had no trouble navigating to the office, Callahan & Associates. Rain pattered his windshield as he pulled into his parking space. He hurried inside to avoid the strengthening shower.
His morning was a flurry of meetings. Between the clients, financial research, and mulling over where to propose, he managed to text Nicole here and there. She unwittingly broadened his choices for locations by sending links to local bars, museums, and parks she wanted to check out this weekend.
“What if we just wanna stay in bed all day?” he messaged teasingly.
“Guess we’ll have to start getting that out of our system tonight.”
Smiling to himself, he glanced out his office window as lunchtime approached. With the rain too heavy to think about going anywhere, it would be a desk lunch today.
After his last client of the morning left, he sent Nicole a picture of the plants she had given him on his first day. “Three compliments on these things again today. You sure you don’t wanna get into interior decorating? You’d make bank. I could retire early.”
“It’s a couple of plants, Ry. Not exactly groundbreaking.”
“Around here it is.”
When she didn’t respond after five minutes, he went to the vending machine in the lounge and was roped into sitting with some of his coworkers. They chatted and cut up, sharing ridiculous stories about clients. Before Ryan knew it, an hour had passed.
On his way back to his office, while he still chuckled to himself, his phone buzzed. The number that lit up the screen was unfamiliar, but given all the important new contacts that came with the move, he didn’t dare ignore it.
“Hello?”
“Ryan Northe?” said a woman’s voice at the other end.
He didn’t recognize her voice. Normally he would have hung up, assuming it was a scam, but her tone made him pause.
“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “Who is this?”
“You’re listed as Nicole Zhou’s emergency contact at her place of work. I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been an accident.”
“What? W-what the hell do you mean—”
“Sir, please remain calm. Nicole was involved in a car accident. She is being transported to the emergency room at St. Mark’s Hospital uptown.”
Breathing heavily, Ryan glanced at the deluge outside and bolted for the elevator. Several coworkers flinched and looked on with concern as he tore past them.
“Will she be okay?” he demanded into his phone.
The voice at the other end was silent for a few seconds. “They’re doing everything they can to get her into stable condition. Get here as soon and as safely as you can, Mr. Northe.”
* * *
The tiles blurred as Ryan paced along the hallway. Everything became patterns, people merely obstacles on their own paths of hurry or mourning.
Paintings of serene landscapes hung on the wall seemed designed to mock him. He’d passed the Sunrise on the Eastern Pond piece a hundred times by now, and the vivid hues of pink and green made him nauseous. Anything so colorful had no right to exist when all he could see when he closed his eyes was Nicole’s mangled body.
Just this morning, she had been warm and solid in his arms. Now she was in a medically-induced coma with plaster and slings barely holding her broken body together.
He was alone.
Ryan explained to hospital personnel that no one else would storm the waiting room for her. There was no one to share news of the accident with. They were too new to the area to have close friends. She had no family left. Single child. Her mother died young. Nicole’s father lost his battle with a brain tumor just last year.
The sterile surroundings made an image flash through his mind over and over: Nicole sobbing in his arms after the doctors said her dad’s lucid days were in the single digits. She’d pulled herself together long enough to sit at her dad’s bedside and promise him grandkids. She went on about how she hoped they would have all the very best parts of him. His humor, his strength, his love.
Now a single downpour was about to make it as if she and her family had never existed.
The doctors assigned to Nicole’s case claimed to be some of the best in the ICU, but they said her chances of waking up were slim to none, so how good could they really be? Were they really doing the best they could offer, or was his girlfriend just another car accident tragedy to them?
He had been instructed to prepare for her death. Whether it be tonight or in the coming weeks, her stability was weakening every minute.
Ryan slipped his hand into his pocket as he turned on his heel and started the furious march back the other way. His fingertips brushed the velvet engagement ring box. All his fretting over the proposal was so inconsequential. Childish. He wished more than anything that he had asked her sooner. Nicole was going to die before he worked up the nerve.
Fresh tears pricked his eyes. He thought he had already cried all he had.
A crushing, panicked loneliness made his knees buckle. He leaned against the wall, chest seizing with half-breaths. They had been squabbling over the color of the new bedsheets a week ago. The placement of the furniture in the living room. Which houseplant to place by the door.
He pushed away and began pacing again.
His parents might pretend to give a shit when he called them to break the news. Maybe he wouldn’t tell them at all. He had been debating on whether to invite them to the wedding. He was already shattered enough without having to endure their forced condolences.
“Hey, careful!”
He’d nearly rammed into another man rounding the corner. Ryan glanced at him, mumbling an apology before brushing around. The man stood in his peripherals before starting after him eagerly.
“Hey… Are you Ryan Northe?”
Ryan stopped and spared another glance. Hesitation gripped him. Wearing a tailored suit and expensive-looking glasses, this guy didn’t look at all like the hospital administration that had been pushing paperwork and insurance and power of attorney under his nose.
“Ryan Northe?” the man asked again. The enthusiasm in his eyes was too bright. “Nicole Zhou’s boyfriend, right?”
“You work here?” Ryan asked hoarsely.
That was as much affirmation as the stranger needed. Disturbingly pleased, he closed the distance and offered his hand to shake. “Bernard Witkowski. Can I buy you a coffee?”
Ryan didn’t take his hand. “Can you people just leave me alone? The receptionist said I already filled out everything—”
“I don’t work for the hospital, Ryan, but my organization operates in partnership with it.” The too-familiar way Bernard said his name reminded Ryan of how he spoke to clients when trying to gain their trust. He kept his guard up as Bernard looked him dead in the eye. “I know about the horrible car accident. T-boned by a semi-truck exiting the freeway… Just awful. The people I work for seek out patients like Nicole. We can help her.”
“What do you mean? The doctors said they’re doing all they can.”
“I’m sure they are. But what we offer is… different.”
Ryan sneered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for a bullshit miracle cure pitch.”
Bernard stepped closer, his expression going hard. Ryan nearly backed away from the intensity in his gaze. “I’ve seen cases like this before. Dozens,” Bernard said in a soft voice. “The doctors are going come down the hall in half an hour and tell you your girlfriend is never going to wake up. There’s a limit to their resources, tragic as it is. My organization has other means at its disposal.”
