Chapter 45: The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 45

Wesbury

A couple of weeks later

Surrounded by the somber faces of the Presley family, all of us dressed in black, we stand around Donald Presley’s tombstone. It’s his sixth death anniversary. As his daughter-in-law, I find myself next to Duke, flanked by his mother and grandmother

The family priest steps forward, starting the ceremony. ‘Today, we gather to remember Donald Presley. A man of principle and courage, love and integrity, and a renowned philanthropist. Donald was always firm in his beliefs. We are thankful for the time we had with him, and we hold onto the hope that our Grand Maker will reunite us. His life was a blessing. His memory remains a treasure, and we will continue to cherish him in our hearts and minds, where his legacy lives on as long as we do…’

The priest, with reverence in his voice, recounts stories of Donald’s valor, kindness, and selflessness. The air is filled with respect and a tinge of sadness for a man who has clearly left an indelible mark on many hearts. As the words wash over me, I think of the legacy he’s left behind and the influence he’s had on Duke.

Half an hour later, the ceremony concludes.

Heather, lingering beside me, breaks the silence. ‘You’re leaving only tomorrow?’ she asks.

‘Yes,’ I reply, feeling the heaviness of the impending departure.

‘The days are going so fast,’ she reflects, and I nod in agreement.

‘Are you taking the private plane?’ she inquires.

‘Yes,’ I confirm, the reality of leaving Wesbury hitting me.

Heather pulls me into a tight hug. ‘I’m hopeful for you, Aisling. I believe you’ll come back a mother. Say Amen.’

With my hand on my heart, I whisper, ‘Amen,’ though part of me feels detached from the hope she’s expressing. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was doing.

‘Believe,’ she says, and I force a smile, trying to latch onto her optimism.

Heather’s gaze shifts to Duke, who’s deep in conversation with the priest near his father’s grave. ‘You still haven’t asked him about her, have you?’

I shake my head, feeling a pang in my chest. ‘No, and I don’t plan to. Ever.’

‘Why, Aisling?’ She looks at me, her eyes filled with concern.

‘My heart can’t handle the details right now. I don’t want to know,’ I admit, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

‘He’s going through a lot,’ she says softly, her voice laced with sympathy.

I muster a wry smile. ‘He better not burn himself to ashes in his own hell.’

Standing amidst the solemn atmosphere of Remembrance Day, I find myself sharing a piece of hard-earned wisdom with Heather. ‘You actually win when you don’t talk about it,’ I say with a sense of conviction in my voice.

Heather nods, absorbing my words. ‘You’re right. I need to start doing that.’

‘Give it a try,’ I encourage her, hoping she finds the same solace in silence that I have.

‘I will,’ she promises, her gaze shifting to Duke. ‘He seems quiet today, withdrawn.’

Following her gaze, I see Duke engrossed in a conversation with the priest. ‘It’s Remembrance Day. His father was such a crucial figure in his life. It’s hard for him,’ I remark, trying to empathize despite the chasm between us.

‘Heather notices something else. ‘He looks like he’s lost weight.’

I haven’t really paid much attention. ‘I haven’t noticed,’ I admit, a sign of the growing distance between Duke and me.

‘He has,’ she insists, her observation a reminder of how much I’ve detached myself from Duke’s world.

‘Heather changes the subject. ‘Is the date set for the naming ceremony?’

I confirm, ‘Yes, it’s in two weeks. Sally will give me an invitation at the brunch.’

‘Okay, great. Will you be able to make it? You’ll be in Rich Oaks, won’t you?’ Heather asks, hopeful.

I contemplate, ‘We’ll see. I might come for it and leave the next day.’ I want to be there for her, despite everything.

Heather’s face lights up. ‘Oh, I’d really love that, Aisling.’

But then I have to let her down. ‘I won’t be at the brunch today.’

Her face falls. ‘Why not?’

‘I have a family lunch in Spring City,’ I explain, feeling a twinge of regret.

Heather looks disappointed. ‘I was really looking forward to being with you.’

‘I’m sorry, Heather. I just can’t make it.’

As I stand there, I realize how much my life has shifted. The connections I once held dear are strained under the weight of my own struggles. It’s a bittersweet acknowledgment that life is moving on, with or without me, and I’m left to navigate this new path, one fraught with uncertainty and change.

As Heather and I continue our conversation, she teases me. ‘Are you sure Ms. Anne isn’t the reason you’re skipping the brunch?’ Her words make me laugh, a welcome relief from the heavy atmosphere.

‘No, why do you say that?’ I ask, curious about her sudden shift in topic.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something,’ Heather says, her tone turning serious. ‘I noticed something during the priest’s speech. Is everything okay between you and Ms. Anne?’

I assure her quickly, ‘We’re cool. Why?’

‘I saw the way she looked at you when the priest was talking,’ Heather confides, her words piquing my interest.

‘Oh… okay. How did she look at me?’

She hesitates before saying, ‘It wasn’t a good look. There was fire and fury in her expression.’

Her description sends a shiver down my spine, but I try to maintain a brave front. ‘Okay.’

‘That’s all you’re saying?’ Heather presses, her eyes searching mine for more.

‘What do you want me to say, Heather?’ I respond with a chuckle, feeling a bit defensive.

‘What’s going on with you two? Did you do something to upset her?’ she persists, her concern evident.

‘I don’t know. You should ask her,’ I reply, trying to deflect. ‘I sent her some cookies a few weeks ago. No thank-you note or call from her. Maybe she didn’t like them.’

Heather shoots me a suspicious look. ‘What kind of cookies?’

I smile. ‘Just normal cookies.’

She laughs. ‘So why is she mad?’

‘It’s just one of those things, I guess,’ I reply, trying to brush it off.

Heather is about to respond when I decide to change the subject. ‘Did you know that Simone is the niece of Ms. Anne’s friend Trina?’

Her reaction is immediate. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘I wish I was, Heather,’ I say, the surprise on her face mirroring my own disbelief when I found out.

Walking beside Nora to her car, parked alongside the private cemetery road, the scent of flowers and damp earth fills the air. It’s a strange blend that brings both peace and a sense of melancholy.

Nora looks up at me. ‘I’m sure your café made a good profit in its first week,’ she says, her eyes shining with pride.

I hesitate, a small smile playing on my lips. ‘Umm…’

‘You have the best location, Aisling,’ she encourages.

‘It wasn’t huge, but it was significant,’ I admit, feeling a mix of pride and humility. She has been at the center of it.

‘That’s good to hear. I need to visit again,’ she says earnestly.

‘You’re welcome anytime, Grandmother. Just let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll make sure Mom is there too,’ I offer.

Her expression changes to concern. ‘Why? Where will you be?’

I take a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving for Rich Oaks tomorrow.’

Nora stops in her tracks, her face a picture of disbelief. ‘You’re going back there?’

‘Yes. April is coming up, and I need to start another cycle. Hopefully, it’s my last,’ I say, trying to sound hopeful about the fifth attempt.

Nora’s voice is filled with regret. ‘Aisling, I’m sorry I haven’t been more help. It’s something I regret deeply.’

I wrap my arm around her, offering comfort. ‘It’s okay, Grandmother. You shouldn’t blame yourself. This isn’t your fault.’

She speaks of her own regrets. ‘I wanted to change the laws for you, but they wouldn’t let me. I think about it every day.’

She takes my hand, her gaze intense. ‘I brought you into this family, Aisling. I have to keep you safe. I’ll fight for you.’

Her words, filled with resolve and care, touch me deeply. ‘I appreciate it, Grandmother.”

As Duke’s sleek silver car pulls into my mother’s driveway, I’m struck by the silence that has blanketed us. The journey from Wesbury to Spring City has been filled with a quiet tension, our words sparse and strained.

Breaking the silence, Duke finally speaks up. ‘Do you know what time you’ll be leaving?’

His voice is cautious, almost tentative. I look out the window, avoiding his gaze. ‘I don’t know. It might be late,’ I admit, feeling uncertain.

He glances my way, a brief flash of something unreadable in his eyes. ‘Do let me know, and I’ll pick you up,’ he offers.

The idea of him coming all the way here just for me feels too personal, too close. ‘You can send the driver to pick me up. You really don’t have to come all the way,’ I suggest, needing to keep some space between us.

But he is insistent. ‘It won’t be a problem. Just text me when you’re ready,’ he says, a hint of determination in his voice.

As I step out of the car, the cool air of Spring City hits me, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside the vehicle. Duke’s offer lingers in my mind. There’s a part of me that wants to lean on him, to accept his support, but another part fiercely clings to my independence, my need to stand on my own.

The door of my mother’s house opens, and I’m momentarily distracted from the turmoil inside me. I take a deep breath and step forward, leaving Duke and the silence behind, at least for now.

Breezing through the front door with a grin plastered on my face, I declare my arrival to my mom and aunt. ‘I’m here,’ I announce.

Aunt Geneva immediately compliments my attire. ‘Black isn’t such a favorite color, but you’re slaying in this, Aisling.’

I beam at her compliment. ‘Thank you,’ I say, giving a little twirl to show off the dress.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ she says, her eyes admiring the dress.

Kari, popping out from the kitchen, adds her two cents. ‘Please send it over to me if you’re not going to wear it again.’

My mom simply cuts to the chase. ‘How did the ceremony go, hun?’

‘Great,” I reply, keeping my emotions in check.

Aunt Geneva teases me, ‘You must have stolen the show, huh?’

But I shake my head. ‘Oh, no. In times of sorrow, who really cares about what you’re wearing anyway?’

Mom’s curiosity about the event surfaces. ‘Most of the family members came?’

‘Yes. A lot of them flew in this morning,’ I confirm.

Aunt Geneva, always observant, questions me. ‘Was that Duke I saw in the car with you?’

‘Yes,’ I admit, a bit hesitantly.

‘I’ve never seen that car before,’ she remarks.

‘It’s new,’ I explain, trying not to dwell on it.

Kari jumps in, her eyes wide. ‘It must be expensive.’

Aunt Geneva smirks, ‘Boys do love their pricey playthings, don’t they?’

Before the conversation can continue, my mom gets called away. ‘Ms. Elena, could you please help me with something in the kitchen?’

‘Of course,’ Mom replies, and they both disappear into the kitchen.

With them gone, Aunt Geneva leans in closer. ‘So, he’s the one who brought you to Spring City?’

I nod, feeling a bit exposed. ‘He wanted to bring me, and I couldn’t stop him.’

‘It’s the best,’ she says, assuming I’m happy about it.

‘It’s really not,’ I counter, feeling the need to set the record straight.

She changes the subject. ‘So is the Rich Oaks trip coming up tomorrow, or has it been moved back to the previously scheduled date in two weeks?’

I roll my eyes playfully. ‘Absolutely, aunt. My bags are packed,’ I reply, forcing a smile.

Aunt Geneva starts to say something more, but I cut her off. ‘No, Aunty. A lot hasn’t changed if you care to know.’

She looks at me with a mix of concern and understanding. ‘Aisling, shit happens. Forgive him. Once you know better, you do better.”

Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the complicated situation I find myself in. The advice to forgive isn’t as easy as it sounds, not when your heart has been shattered. Yet, there’s a part of me that knows she’s right. But knowing and doing are two very different things.