Chapter 58: The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 58

Rich Oaks

Stepping off my private jet at Rich Oaks, I head straight to the waiting car. I’ve barely sunk into the back seat when my phone rings. I answer it quickly, and it’s Leonard on the line with some news I’ve been waiting for.

‘She left at ten thirty,’ he says, all cool and composed.

‘Okay,’ I respond, a weight lifting off my chest.

‘I handed her the cheque. She was pretty shocked by the amount,’ he adds.

I feel a bit relieved. ‘Glad it all went smoothly,’ I say.

‘And she signed the agreement,’ he tells me.

‘Seriously, she signed it?’ I ask, a bit taken aback.

‘Yes, Duke,’ Leonard confirms. ‘I made sure of it.’

‘Wow, Leonard,’ I say, impressed by his thoroughness.

‘She won’t be a problem anymore. Everything’s taken care of,’ he reassures me.

‘I hope so,’ I say, feeling a wave of relief.

‘I think she had a thing for you. It’s for the best it’s over,’ he says.

‘Why would you say that?’ I ask, a little thrown off.

‘Her body language,’ he explains. ‘Those hugs of hers? Not exactly normal.’

I laugh. It’s almost absurd. But his words draw a sharp breath from me. Could she really harbor feelings? The thought had crossed my mind, but hearing it from Leonard, it hit differently.

‘She wouldn’t have given up the baby for Aisling to adopt. I think she had plans to get closer to you,’ he says seriously. ‘I’m not kidding.’

‘That’s… something,’ I say, stunned.

‘Now, looking back, it’s good it all got cancelled,’ he says.

‘Now I see,’ I reply.

‘She had ulterior motives, man. Motives that could have messed up your marriage,’ he says, and I know he’s right.

The insinuation that she might have aimed to replace Aisling sends a chill down my spine.

Stepping into Aisling’s penthouse, I’m immediately hit with this wave of regret, like a cold shower. Seeing her, I can tell right away the hurt I’ve caused, and it’s sitting heavy on my heart. But she looks like heaven, in her pajamas.

She’s moving kind of stiffly, and there’s this gap between us you could practically touch. I know I’m the reason for this pain, and it’s like this weight I can’t just shrug off. Every step in her place reminds me of how much I’ve messed things up.

She makes me tea, her voice low with curiosity. ‘So, how was the flight?’

‘It wasn’t bad,’ I answer, but my head’s still all tangled up in the past few weeks.

She seems a bit surprised. ‘Thought the storm would delay you.’

‘No, it didn’t hold us up.’

She yawns, covering her mouth. ‘Hungry? Got some leftover fried rice from today,’ she offers.

‘Just the tea’s fine,’ I say, seeing how tired she is.

She sighs and lets it go.

I walk closer, looking around her kitchen. ‘That cabinet’s door is broken?’ I ask, spotting the damage.

‘Yeah,’ she admits, looking a bit sheepish.

‘What happened there?’

‘It was me. Pulled it off by accident last August. Forgot to call someone to fix it,’ she explains, sounding sorry about it.

‘We should get that replaced. Looks dangerous,’ I say, worried about her.

‘I’ve put in a request with maintenance,’ she tells me. ‘They’re coming Thursday.’

‘Okay,’ I reply, accepting her answer. The air between us is still heavy, but I’m here now, trying to bridge this distance we’ve created.

She hands me the mug of tea, and I mutter a thanks. The silence that follows is thick, choking the air.

‘I’m going back to bed,’ Aisling says, her voice sounding tired, worn out.

I can’t just stand there and let her walk away. I gently pull her to my side. ‘Aisling, you’ve got to believe me. I haven’t been with anyone else,’ I say, pouring every ounce of truth I have into those words.

She sighs, rolling her eyes, the disbelief clear. ‘I have not been with another woman, Aisling. Please, you have to believe me.’

Her voice gets sharper, agitated. ‘Let’s not do this, Duke. It’s late, and I just can’t.’

‘Aisling…’ I start, but she cuts me off.

‘Duke, no. Just don’t.’

I’m desperate to clear the air, to ease this tension before the new day. ‘We need to sort this out. We’ve got to talk about it, especially with the baby process starting tomorrow morning.’

She’s defiant. ‘Then I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Aisling, why not?’

‘Because it won’t help. I don’t want to know,’ she admits, and her voice cracks a little.

‘It will help us both, I promise,’ I try to reassure her.

‘I need to go to bed. I can’t deal with thoughts of other women you’ve been with,’ she says, her voice shaky.

‘Aisling, it’s not true,’ I insist.

But she’s firm, her words like a slap. ‘I don’t care if it’s true or not. They’re not worth my time, Duke.’ And with that, she walks away, disappearing into the bedroom.

She doesn’t offer me a place to sleep, and I don’t ask. The thick cushions of the sofa beckon, promising a night of introspection. I sit down heavily, feeling a crushing weight settle on my shoulders. The room, with its muted lighting, seems to mock the desolation I feel. Sounds from the city filter in, a constant reminder of life moving on.

Sleep is elusive, my mind a whirlwind of regret and longing. The sofa might as well be a desert island, emphasizing the distance that’s opened between Aisling and me.

Even though we’re under the same roof, she feels galaxies away.