The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 37

Rachel sat in the Hospital waiting room. If she died and went to purgatory, then she felt the first stage would be like this. Waiting, dreading with nothing to do and nothing to take your mind off it. The luxury status of the room would contrast the pain of waiting. She would be in the waiting room of uncertainty for centuries until her punishment was done.

How long does one get in purgatory for changing gender Rachel wondered? does that count as 'You shall not make for yourself a carved image.' Certainly, Rachel was a carved image, she was about as quite a cute sexy carved image you could get. Did Logan count under the 'You shall not commit adultery'? As far as Honor your father and your mother? She was certainly guilty of that. Perhaps for transpeople it was 'you shall not covet.' wanting to be the other gender was generally coveting. Still, perhaps it was no different from advertising. I mean, advertising was an industry based on creating industrial levels of coveting. If time in purgatory was for trans-people then the entire advertising industry was going to be there to. It would be so big it would probably need a whole new ring of hell for them. It was with this and other thoughts Rachel kept herself occupied, drinking some bitter coffee, thinking that it wouldn't be long before she would be free.

In the dimly lit hospital waiting room, the hushed murmur of voices filled the air, creating an atmosphere of uncertainty and tension. Rachel sat there, a young widow to be, her eyes fixed on the passing seconds of the clock. The door creaked open, and Charlie walked in, her shoulders slumped with worry, Lucy followed.

"Can we talk?" Charlie asked, his voice laden with anxiety.

Rachel nodded, offering a faint smile. "Sure. I'm not doing anything," she replied, trying to put on a brave face despite the turmoil inside her.

"How are things going?" Rachel inquired, trying to engage in small talk amidst the overwhelming circumstances.

Charlie sighed heavily, trying to find the right words to express the gravity of the situation. "A couple of banks have said they might call in their loans. The others are good. I've been telling everyone he could recover. This will put off any big decision before any announcement. Sorry, that's not what you meant," she responded, her mind still preoccupied with the financial burdens that hung heavily over them.

Across the room, Lucy, joined the conversation. "The decline has shallowed," she spoke softly, her eyes filled with hope. "They tried some new treatments. It's not stopping anything, but enough time for some of the new consultants to arrive."

Rachel turned her gaze towards Lucy "I want to say thanks, Lucy," Rachel said, her voice filled with sincerity. "I was in a state, but your defense of Douglas, fighting for him, getting everything was... I just want to say thanks. I wish I had said that."

Lucy's eyes softened, touched by Rachel's words. She struggled to suppress her emotions, appreciating the hand of friendship that had been offered to her.

"I've had a PA organize your wedding," Lucy revealed, hoping to bring some positivity into the midst of despair.

"Wedding? No. I'm not getting married. I just said that before he died," Rachel blurted out, realizing how her words might have sounded insensitive and ill-timed.

Lucy's expression turned firm, a resolute determination in her eyes.

"If Mr. Levant regains consciousness and you're not ready to marry him, he will die knowing I failed him," she stated, her loyalty to Douglas unwavering.

Charlie moved in. "To be honest, it would help me if it happened. They won't tell me the contents of the will until after death. At the moment, if Levant dies and there is no single legitimate person to inherit, then the banks and creditors would lose hope that their money wouldn't be burnt away while everyone litigates over his empire. A widow would be a blessing."

"I don't feel good about it," Rachel said. "Is it even legal?"

"We are in California," Lucy said coldly. "You do the math."

Charlie moved closer. "It's not likely it's going to happen. Even if it was, it would be a bit of paper signing. A private ceremony. You saying a few words to him before someone. Rings. Legal stuff. He would die happy. You would inherit everything. We are not talking about white dresses and a church. The doctors and nurses heard you say yes to him. Worse case, we could make the argument in court with just that hearsay."

"What about Denver?" Rachel said.

"Mrs. Levant could go to Europe to recover. Sign over power of attorney to me to handle her affairs. Give money to a charity she set up, lots of things, she might never be seen again," Charlie said.

Rachel pulled Charlie to one side so Lucy could not hear.

"There is a man in the hospital. He's in a coma. He's the man I fucked in Qatar. It's my fault he is there. Could we get him out?" Rachel whispered.

"Again - the relationship with this hospital is via personal donation. A wife would be able to hold out the prospect of more funding for research," Charlie whispered back. "I will try my best for him. Everything is up in the air; I can't make any guarantees."

Rachel stood up and let out a long breath. "What are Douglas' chances at the moment?"

"Between 5% and zero. They still don't fundamentally understand what is wrong with him," Charlie said. This just confirmed what Rachel understood she just wanted to hear it from someone else.

"OK, I'll do it," Rachel said, feeling like she was going to regret it if she did and regret it if she didn't. This would help Charlie.

Rachel was glad they hadn't found the Viagra in his system. Perhaps she could get out without anyone noticing what she had done. Perhaps this was payback for everything that had happened to her. Perhaps she deserved it. Or perhaps Lucy was right, and she was just a bad person.

********************

Over the nerve-wracking hours, Levant's vital signs dipped in and out. He had a couple of moments when his heart stopped, but the crash team managed to reboot him. Dr. J whispered that there were signs of brain damage in his blood. Everyone walked around in a distant silence, as if the rules of a library extended over the hospital. Amidst all of this, Lucy started to organize the wedding. It felt like a peculiar, almost ludicrous contradiction of what was happening. As it turned out, the greatest contradiction was it would be a white wedding.

Rachel discovered this when she was woken up from sleeping in the chair by Samantha's arrival. Samantha had appeared in the morning, carrying a hot cup of nitro coffee, a wedding dress in a crisp plastic bag, and a huge hug. Rachel recognized that the dress was the one she had spotted in Samantha's work area; Samantha had been working on it as a special secret commission from Levant. Lucy insisted Rachel get dressed and be ready. So Rachel got ready but sat around in the flowing dress and low pumps all day. She found herself whispering with Samantha. Occasionally, they opened the shutters on the observation room, and Rachel stood looking at Levant as if he were some strange exhibit in a voyeuristic museum of slow death.

Later, Hector turned up with Levant's wedding rings found in his safe at the Thornbury. Rachel was going to wear one, which had been re-worked from Levant's mother.

Charlie dropped in and said Levant's mother and sisters were being flown in secret from Boston. Rachel had received some messages from Lidia and responded. It looked like Levant's Mother approved of the marriage, or at worst, the continuation of the Levant empire. The rings were exquisite. Rachel put the engagement ring on immediately. It was the one Levant had thrown over the cliff that night so long ago. He had paid people to go and retrieve it. Restored it looked spectacular again, it was a perfect fit.

Rachel looked at Samantha in the mirror while she fixed Rachel's hair. It felt wrong to get the stylist, even Beth, to help. This wasn't a time for pomp; it was a lonely, cold vigil. Since her arrival, Samantha had been strange and sympathetic, yet in her eyes, secretly glad Levant was going to be out of the way soon. Rachel looked at the dress. It was so Samantha--stylish, modern, but with little hints of pixie madness. She could see suggestions of angels and unicorns in the embroidery as if this was something Samantha had made for herself, not Rachel. There was something about the atmosphere that made her heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vice. Samantha reminded her that in twenty-four or forty-eight hours, Rachel would be free and she could to choose her future, but that didn't make things feel any better.

With the dawn Levant's 'sports accident' appeared on the morning news. Details were short, but some kind of midnight water skiing accident took over as the primary theory. The solemn political rivals wished for a recovery. On schedule, shares in Levant Industries plummeted. Social media began to flood with best wishes for Rachel. Levant's political supporters started standing outside the hospital on vigil. At first, they had gone to the wrong hospital, but then they followed the TV cameras to the right one. Looking out of the window, Rachel could see the crowd below.

At about ten in the morning, Reverend Fitts turned up and insisted he would conduct the marriage ceremony himself. Levant had promised him, he claimed. After that, lawyers appeared, and careful conversations started. The only good news was that the negotiations distracted Rachel from worrying. It was about eleven in the morning when Lidia and Levant's sisters arrived fresh from the airport and began renegotiating with Fitts.

Rachel found herself sitting up suddenly; she was being woken by Samantha. The last thing she remembered was talking to one of Levant's sisters and feeling tired.

"The last blood transfusion worked; he is recovered enough to wake up," Samantha said, arranging Rachel's blonde locks.

The doctors assured Rachel that this was temporary. The growing number of consultants all agreed that this was going to be a drawn-out death. They kept saying they were impressed he had lasted this long, like it was a good thing.

Walking the long way into the medical area. Rachel, looked both angelic and seductive. This wasn't the best dress for the occasion. It was one of Levant's fantasy projects, something in case Rachel had agreed to marriage in a moment of weakness. Samantha said it had been kept in a secret flight case in the hold of Levant's personal jet. The dress made the best of her shape and large breasts but showed far too much cleavage for Rachel's mind.

Rachel wore the Christian Louboutin pumps she had bought at Selfridges in London; they were on the border between respectable and provocative. They were part of the look Levant had prepared. The makeup was toned down from his original specifications but was still rather too foxy for a hospital intensive care unit.

There was something about the artificiality of it that made Rachel feel fake all over again. Living for years as Rachel had cured her of that feeling of being made from glass. The feeling that someone might clock her and she would shatter. Now at this moment, with the generous foundation of morbid expectation, the old sensation returned to haunt her shoulder once more. It felt worse than when Denver had gone to steal from the 7-11 on a dare or the night she had walked out as Rachel for the first time and met Hunter.

Rachel pulled the veil down and walked into the intensive care room. The smell of antiseptic and blood was overwhelming and would never be forgotten. The only music playing was the sound of the oxygen machine and the chorus of the peristaltic pumps. A nurse had placed some cut orchid flowers near Levant, which somehow only made the discord between the holy space, bedroom, and operating theatre that much stronger.

The ceremony was to be short and simple. Levant was woken up and was frail as an autumn leaf. He had been propped up but was too weak to smile. The Reverend Fitts was waiting, accompanied by a couple of lawyers and a justice of the peace standing nearby, while Levant's family stood to one side. They had come in to say goodbye a few minutes previously. Charlie acted as Levant's best man, and Samantha was the bridesmaid. A few doctors and nurses sat in the background, watching every beat of Levant's heart. The medical staff had gone for a final large-scale meeting to discuss any final Hail Mary options. From what little Rachel had seen of the medical experts, it would be a bloodbath of recrimination and blame, but all said in the most polite terms possible.

Rachel was the last to enter and walked through the standing group wearing some sterile bunny boots over her shoes. They all had them. It felt like a charade, and that suited Rachel, as when she thought about it, she felt like she was committing the worst sin of her life. Levant's eyes watched as she walked into the space.

Levant hardly spoke during the ceremony. He looked up into Rachel's eyes and held her hand weakly. He was just strong enough to say 'I do'. He had to be helped to sign his name. Rachel signed hers, and she had never felt so fake. She took Levant's hand.

"You look lovely," he managed at the end, then his eyes closed, and his cold grip on Rachel's hand weakened.

Rachel looked down, tears streaming. After ten minutes, she retreated to the waiting room. Grim ice grabbed her heart. Samantha sat with her and held her hand.

*********************

Talking to the dead

Rachel walked into the coma ward and looked for Hunter's room. She felt exhausted after talking to Lidia, who was leaving with Isabella and Sophia for the East Coast. Lidia had mentioned that one of Sophia's daughters needed their mother. In fact, the Levant family had a disdain for weakness and illness that bordered on the psychotic. Levant had always disappeared on urgent business whenever Rachel had anything like a cold, which, in retrospect, had made the Paris trip somehow more of a landmark.

Lidia had quickly discovered that Rachel's name was all over the will. Lidia overwhelmed Rachel until it became clear Rachel was willing to continue Lidia's financial arrangements. With that established, Lidia announced that she and her daughters were too overwhelmed by events and urgently had to depart.

Now the wedding was over, Lidia had called for the limousine. Rachel had just said goodbye in the hallway and, still wrapped tightly in her wedding dress, had walked away to the thirteenth floor, where the coma ward was lodged. Even without the veil, the dress looked quite spectacular. Rachel's finger was now quite noticeable as the resting place for a very luscious diamond. Rachel kept twisting the heavy ring; currently, she wasn't wearing the ring; the ring was wearing her, and she knew it. She felt like Levant's property.

The elevator pinged, and she stepped out.

Rachel stood still, holding the bridal bouquet behind the glass door. The nurse recognized her and let her enter, and with a wave, Rachel went to Hunter's room.

Rachel walked in, her steps partly restricted by her wedding dress.

"No, it's not for you," she said. She came over and sat down next to the bed. She paused. "Well, I guess we have both looked better," she said. "It's happened; I'm Mrs. Levant now. There's nothing to do but wait." She paused again. "Yeah, I guess so. On the good news front, as soon as he's gone, I'm going to get Charlie to free you."

Rachel looked at Hunter. Even now, she couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole secret. She still couldn't break herself from the feeling that he really was listening to everything. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She knew she was in a tiny bubble of reflection before the tornado of the funeral and the inheritance struck. Rachel guessed that by now, Mom would have known about the wedding, probably sealing her fate. The billions Rachel stood to inherit were enough to convict her for eternity in her mom's eyes. There didn't seem to be any way to have a conversation with Mom again.

"I honestly don't know what to do, Nathan," Rachel said, then paused.

"I guess the big question is, who am I?" At this, she paused for a second. "Guess you're right, the actual question is, who do I want to be? Yeah, okay, I guess we all face that question. I mean, how would you answer, who do you want to be?"

Rachel sat in silence. "Well, the options are: leave and go back to who I was. Which means I lose everyone and everything I've met, including you. It used to include going back to be with my family, but I'm getting the feeling that's not on the cards anymore. I've stepped far too out of line. I guess I could go back to being a different me. But I'm not sure who that would be. I mean, I've evolved, I've learned such a huge amount. Like what? Life-changing stuff like I now know not to wash my feet in the bidet. You know, I think I've learned so much I don't think I would fit back into the old me. It would be like being on vacation trying to stuff the new clothes you got into the old suitcase you brought."

"So I guess the alternative is being Rachel Price." Rachel said "But even that isn't as simple as it once was," at this, Rachel began to look at the floor. "You see, I've met two people. Two people I like a huge amount. I don't want to shock you, but there is a him and her. Yes, it's quite a big world out there. Him, he's kind of your size, a nice guy, a good listener. If I want to stay with him, in fact, either of them, I'm going to need a pretty major operation. That would kiss any reconciliation with my mother goodbye. It means children would be tricky. Not impossible, but not fun either. And... And I don't know if he would truly approve of what I am. I'm afraid he might think we got to know each other under false pretences. That wasn't my intent, you know, and he would be right. So it's a bit of a risk."

Rachel paused. "I'm not being very clear, I admit. You see, I have a secret. Let's say the secret is about liking ABBA songs, but you know, far worse... well a bit worse. So I can have an operation that will remove the problem, but I can't remove history. As much as you change yourself, you just can't erase what you were. So I could have this operation and then lie to him for the rest of my life. That's not the kind of person or relationship I'm looking for. On the other hand, I could tell him, and that might put him off me forever. I mean, you know the relationship started under false pretences, hardly fair. Or worse still, he would pretend it's okay, but actually, as time went on, it would gnaw away at him. He would only be talking to me because he didn't want to be seen as a hypocrite, you know? I would be trapping him no worse than Douglas. So at that point, I would probably have to end it for him."

Rachel took a deep breath, as if she were performing open-heart surgery on herself.

"Do you mind me monologuing like some comic book villain? It's helping. Then there's her. She knows the secret already. She has a real thing about Abba songs, and I don't think she would tolerate it. So any future in her world needs the same operation. But she would always feel guilty about driving me to do it. And again, guilt is not a great base on which to build a relationship. So yes, I could lie and say I'd always wanted it. Perhaps it wouldn't be too far from the truth. Maybe she would believe me, but what if she started doubting it? So we are back to doubts gnawing away like termites in the foundations of a wooden house."

Rachel sat and wondered for a second. Secretly, she had quite liked Levant's dick hard up her ass. She had enjoyed being stuffed by him. She didn't want to admit it, but somehow being used by him felt both a turn-on and weirdly satisfying. It felt bad, dirty, and gross, but also deeply sexy. Now she had a while to think about it; she knew she was looking forward to his exploitation of her. If he died, he wouldn't grind on her again. She would always remember the feeling secretly in the abandoned rooms of her memory. Rachel tried to tidy away the feeling that she wanted to be subjugated by his dick and continued.