Presley Estates, Wesbury
âWhat are you up to? Itâs nearly eleven, you know,â Aislingâs voice comes through the phone. Iâm holed up in the study, its dim light throwing shadows all around. Sheâs right. Itâs late, and I can hear the worry in her voice. It just adds to my own stress.
âYeah, I know,â I say.
âWhy are you still in your study? Youâre usually not there this late when Iâm around,â she says, curiosity in her tone.
âJust clearing some stuff off my desk,â I tell her, glancing at the mess of papers. âIâll be done in a bit.â
âOkay,â she replies, sounding a bit more relaxed. âHey, I heard you went to the café today.â
âYeah, I stopped by,â I admit.
âWhy didnât you mention it earlier when we talked?â she asks, a hint of playfulness in her voice.
âUh, mustâve slipped my mind,â I lie, feeling a bit embarrassed.
âReally?â she probes, her voice teasing.
âDo I have to report to you every time I visit the café?â I try to dodge her question.âDo you expect a call every time someone goes for coffee?â
âSome people actually do,â she laughs, her laughter a soothing sound in my ear. âSeems like it.â
âThat was nice of you to drop by,â she says, gratitude in her voice. âThanks.â
âHow are you? Everything okay?â I ask, shifting the focus.
âYeah, Iâm good. Couldnât make it to the hotel, they insisted I stay,â she tells me.
âWhat about Bianca?â I ask, wondering about her maid.
âSheâs at the hotel,â Aisling says.
âGot it.â
âSheâs got the whole suite to herself,â she adds, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Thereâs this pause on the line, and then she whispers, âI miss you, Duke.â
Hearing the longing in her voice, it pulls at something deep in me. âThen come back home tomorrow,â I half-joke, half-hope.
She laughs a little. âYouâre serious?â
âIâm not joking,â I press, trying to sound as convincing as I can.
âBut, Dukeâ¦â she starts, then hesitates.
âBut what?â I cut in. âYou donât have to tell them youâre leaving.â
I can almost see her smiling through the phone. âI canât do that to them, Duke. Theyâve planned so much this week. It would crush them. Itâs been forever since Iâve been back here.â
âAlright,â I say.
âYouâre making me cry,â she suddenly says, her voice quivering.
âWhy?â I ask.
âBecause I wish so badly I could be with you tonight,â she says, her voice thick with emotion now.
âItâs okay.â
âBut I need to do this,â she insists. âI havenât visited in so long. Thursdayâs just around the corner, and Iâm really looking forward to it.â
Her excitement is infectious, and I canât help but softly laugh.
âIâm excited for our vacation, too,â she goes on, her voice full of anticipation. âIâve been dreaming about itâ¦â
In the master suite of the Chateau, Iâm suiting up for church, feeling a surge of sadness engulf me. The roomâs quiet, just my thoughts buzzing around. I adjust my tie, feeling the smooth silk slip through my fingers, and take this deep, uneasy breath.
Then the phone rings. I walk over to where itâs ringing by the bed and see whoâs calling.
âGood morning, Granty?â I answer, my chest heavy with this sense of foreboding.
âDuke?â Itâs my grand aunt Emma on the other end.
âYeah, itâs me.â
âHow are you doing?â she asks.
âIâm alright. How about you?â
âNot too bad. Listen, I need you to handle something for me.â
I let out a sigh, a sense of dread settling in. âWhatâs up?â
âSimoneâs going to need to move out of Knoxville as soon as we get the IVF results,â she tells me.
âWhyâs that?â I ask, puzzled.
âDuke, we canât take any risks,â she says firmly.
âRisks? What risks?â I push for more, feeling my frustration build.
âSheâs likely going to be pregnant this cycle. Her numbers look good,â she explains.
Feeling this mix of frustration and unease, I yank off my tie and clench it in my hand. âSo, what do you need me to do?â
âStart getting her moved out of Knoxville. We need to start planning now,â she instructs.
Iâm silent for a moment, processing all this, feeling the weight of it all on my shoulders. âOkay,â I finally say, not exactly thrilled. âIf thatâs what you think is best.â
âPut her in a house or a penthouse. She doesnât know yet, and sheâll have her say in it,â she adds.
âGot it,â I reply, my mind already racing with the logistics. The call leaves me feeling even more unsettled.
As I hang up the phone, I realize my life is about to change, and a deep sense of unhappiness wraps around me. I canât shake the feeling that Iâm losing control of my life.
âThey want what now?â Leonardâs voice crackles through the phone, dripping with disbelief.
Right after I hang up with Emma, I dial Leonard, my fingers shaking a bit from all the tension.
âTheyâre saying I need to buy her a house, like, right now,â I tell him, with frustration.
âBut we planned that for after the baby,â he argues, and itâs exactly what Iâm thinking.
âNope, they want it done now,â I repeat, feeling my frustration rise.
âSheâs serious about this?â he asks, clearly shocked.
âYeah, I just got off with her. Sheâs not taking no for an answer,â I say, feeling this heaviness in my heart because of all this.
âSo, are we doing this?â he asks, sounding unsure.
âJust do it,â I mutter, feeling totally defeated.
âYou sure about this, Duke?â he asks, real worry in his voice.
âYeah,â I reply, the word barely more than a whisper.
âIâm not liking this at all,â he confesses, sounding uneasy.
I feel like everythingâs spiraling out of my hands. Frustration, uncertainty, doubt, fear â theyâre all swirling around inside me, like a storm I canât control, threatening to swallow me whole.
Itâs noon when Nora and I get back from church to her place, and Iâm just emotionally spent. I help her up to her bedroom, being extra careful and gentle with every step.
âThanks, Duke,â she says softly, sounding really tired.
I gently take off her shoes and help her get comfortable on the bed. âI gotta get going now,â I tell her, feeling the exhaustion of the day catching up to me.
âWhenâs Aisling coming back?â she asks, and I can feel the question pulling at my heart.
âThursday,â I say, and just saying Aislingâs name brings this small, sad smile to my face.
âSheâs gone the whole week, huh?â She remarks, and itâs like sheâs voicing my own sense of longing.
âYeah, grandma,â I confirm, my voice heavy.
âAnd howâs it going with that other woman?â she asks, looking at me with this searching gaze.
I nod, not really wanting to get into it. âItâs going okay,â I say, but the words taste bitter.
âIâm sorry, Duke. Iâve been trying to find a way to stop this,â she admits, her eyes full of concern.
âItâs okay, grandma,â I reassure her, but inside, my heartâs hurting.
âAnthonyâs looking into something for me,â she goes on, her voice shaky.
âIsnât it too late now?â I ask, feeling skeptical.
âIt doesnât matter, Duke. A firstborn isnât supposed to be the heir,â she says, and Iâm totally taken aback.
I just stare at her, trying to process what sheâs saying. âI didnât know that,â I admit, feeling this mix of confusion and curiosity.
âEspecially if itâs born out of wedlock. The chances are higher if youâre married to the mother,â she adds.
âI see,â I respond quietly, my mind spinning with all these new questions and doubts. The whole situation feels like a thick fog settling over me.