Page 67 of The Wife Deception
"You think?"
She got off from her chair and closed the distance between us. "I'm sorry," her hands clamped around my arm. I should feel repulsed, and yet blood rushed down my body as thoughts of the last time we touched entered my mind. Disgusted, I whipped my hand away. She flinched and stepped back. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "What are you going to do next?"
I hadn't even thought that far. The betrayal hurt me to think of anything else but to confront her. "Divorce is not an option. Your grandfather is up to something, and keeping you with me is the best insurance against whatever he's planning."
I left the room, no longer wanting to look at her any longer. Her vulnerability was tugging at my heartstrings, making me feel for her. Making me want to draw her in my arms and tell her everything is alright. As though she was the victim in this situation and not the other way round.
The living room bar was on the way to the home office. I passed by it and poured myself a glass full of brandy and then shut myself in my office. Working was difficult, but I pushed through the thoughts of Aelin, no Aire, and afteran hour of struggle, I had put her in the back of my mind enough to work for four more hours.
Aire was in her room when I came out. She had cleared the kitchen of Magnus's meal prep and stored everything away in the fridge. The smell of food coupled by my alcohol filled stomach zapped my appetite and I closed the fridge. There was a smudge of paint on the door handle that made me think of her.
What did she spend all day doing? I wondered? My feet carried me to her study. I switched on the light and it bathed a clean room with a desk at one end of the wall and an easel with a canvas covered up by a white sheet at the center. I had seen some of her works in the dossier and the few she showed in Milan. I had to admit begrudgingly that they were good. Her specialty lay in doing abstract portraits. My hand itched to see what was beneath. I don't know why I was resistant. Maybe it was remembering how cagey she had been when I first came in here. Ever since then, I had steered clear of her studio to respect her privacy. But did she deserve it? Certainly not after lying to me.
I snatched the cloth away and let it fall down to the floor. It was a half-finished painting. I couldn't tell what it was yet, but something inside me sank. A sort of disappointment that I remember feeling when I was a kid when my father did not come to one of my recitals. I don'tknow what I thought I was going to see. A portrait of me? Now why would she paint something like that?
34
Aire
Pregnant.The pregnancy test wrote in giant red clear letters the word 'PREGNANT.' It was not a fluke. After finally realizing that I had missed my period, I bit the bullet, bought a bunch of pregnancy tests, waited for Nolan to leave, and shut myself in the bathroom. I had taken six tests to make sure. All positive. It was real. My heart racing, I collected my tests, threw them in the bin, and called my doctor to make an appointment. It was the same doctor my grandfather referred me to and since he knew my health record, I figured I would go to him instead of getting a new one.
The doctor confirmed it. Four weeks pregnant. It had been fourweeks since Nolan and I last were together, so the conception date must have been the polo match day. He had used no protection that day and night. I thought the birth control pill I was taking was working, but I guess not. How was I going to tell him?
Nolan had become more of a recluse, keeping to his office every day and eating his dinner after I ate mine. He hadn't kicked me out of the house yet, but that didn't mean I wasn't walking on eggshells. His coldness was as intense as it could be. I felt as if I was an intruder in his house. An unwanted malignant disease that should be avoided at all costs. I wondered if there was anything I could do to change things, but it seemed our relationship was doomed.
Maybe I should just tell him, I thought as I got out of the doctor's office. That would be better. Just let it all out and let the chips fall where they may. But would that be the right idea? He might want nothing to do with the baby, and I would have to raise the child alone after our inevitable divorce. I know I wanted to keep it. When the doctor confirmed it, I didn't feel sad or afraid, but a warm joy that slowly spread throughout my body. How wonderful would it be to give my love to someone who would not reject it? Watch someone who came from me grow and become their own person.
Nolan not wanting it, was possibly the best outcome. He might want to keep the baby. To be part of the child's life. What then? Could I survive having Nolan in my life for the rest of eternity? He might try to have the child for himself. Try to get full custody. That stopped me cold. He had the money and the power to do it. And I had lied to him about being someone else. He could paint me as a crazy woman who could not be trusted with raising a child. Heck, my name wasn't on the marriage certificate. He might use that against me as well. Nolan Hawthorne could not know.
Before I could think further on it, my phone rang. It was my grandfather. "Hello," I said in an overly cheery voice.
"Come to the office. We need to talk." His voice sounded more forceful and less shaky than the other times I had spoken to him.
"Right now?" I wasn't in the mood to talk to him after the life-changing news I just received. And besides, if he ever found out, he might make things even more complicated. I hadn't forgotten how much he wanted Nolan and I to have a child.
"It's important." He ended the call without giving me the chance to respond. Clearly, this was a command.
The W. Burgess New York offices were located in downtown Manhattan. The high rise building wasn't as imposing as The Hawthorne building, but it had an old glory to it. A signal of a dyingempire. The mostly glass construction of the W. Burgess offices revealed their sparse occupancy. It was as though the entire staff was on the move. Boxes filled empty offices. The few that were occupied had one or two people. When I was last here, those rooms occupied had at least five people.
Grandfather's office was at the end of the hall. Things were less dire in the executive suite, but not much different. Grandfather now had one assistant instead of two who immediately notified her boss that I had arrived and opened the office door for me.
Kenneth Burgess looked healthier than the last time I saw him. It was as though he had some young blood pumped into his dying veins. He was standing in front of the office window, the city offering him an imposing backdrop that made him appear more sinister than he was. Maybe it was the cane, or maybe it was seeing him so well again.
"You look good," I said after our greeting.
He merely grunted in response and motioned for me to take a seat.
"How are you doing?"
The question didn't sound like a pleasantry. More like an interrogatory statement. "Fine. You look better."
He waved me off. "Your husband has been bothering me about the deal."
"Nolan said you haven't signed."
"That's because I wanted reassurance. Now I've got it." He shuffled forward and sat down in his chair, took out a stack of papers from the drawer, and slid them over to my side of the desk. His smile was unnerving, but wasn't it always like that?The papers looked official.
Grandfather gestured to them. "Give it to him. I have signed his bloody deal."
