Rich Oaks
Iâm jolted awake by my phone ringing.
Itâs Heather.
Why is she calling this early?
Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I answer with a groggy, âHey girl?â
âAww, did I wake you? Youâre still sleeping,â she says, sounding sorry.
âItâs fine, letâs chat,â I say, trying to shake off sleep.
Sheâs apologetic. âSo sorry to disturb you.â
âNo worries,â I say. âI was about to get up anyway. My alarmâs set to go off soon.â
âHey,â I mumble, stretching out my limbs under the comforter. âWas about to rise anyway.â
âIs Duke there with you?â Heatherâs voice carries a note of urgency.
âNo,â I reply, a bit too quickly.
âWhy? You guys didnât sleep together?â She sounds surprised.
âNot exactly. He had some stuff to do, and ended up crashing in the living room. He came in really late,â I explain, the tension from last night still lingering in my mind.
âOh, okay. So, how are you holding up?â she tries to steer the conversation.
I pause, the sting of Dukeâs betrayal still raw. âIâm doing okay, thank God.â
âThatâs good to hear,â she says.
I ask about everyone back at the estate, curious and missing them.
âTheyâre all great, missing you,â she replies warmly.
I feel a surge of homesickness. âI miss them too,â I admit.
âPeople were asking about you at the ceremony,â she tells me.
Iâm touched. âAww, thatâs sweet.â
âWe told them youâre tied up with work,â she adds, always looking out for me.
Iâm grateful. âThanks for covering for me.â
Then her tone softens. âI called to let you know Iâve been praying for you guys.â
Her words warm my heart but really didnât need it. âThank you, Heather. That means a lot.â
She sounds hopeful. âIâm praying everything goes well with the tests today, so you can start the process soon.â
âMe too,â I say quickly.
âI have faith this is going to work out for you,â she says confidently.
âSame here.â
The sheets feel cool as I reluctantly pull away, every muscle screaming for a few more minutes of rest. But I know lying there wonât erase the events or the feelings coursing through me.
Stepping into the living area, the morning sun washes over the room. The terrace door stands slightly ajar, revealing Duke, hunched over his laptop. The sunlight paints him in soft gold, making him seem almost angelic. Funny how deceiving looks can be.
âMorning?â My voice comes out unsure, almost hesitant.
He looks up, our eyes locking. âMorning, honey,â he says, and thereâs this warmth in his voice that stirs something inside me.
I just stand there, taking him in. The man in front of me is both the Duke Iâve loved deeply and the stranger who hurt me. My heartâs in this vice grip of pain and confusion. Heâs right there, and part of me wants to run into his arms and believe every word he says. But then thereâs this hurt, this deep cut from his betrayal, making it hard to just let go and trust. Iâm caught in this storm of love and hurt, not sure which way to turn.
I slide a plate of muffins across the kitchen island to Duke, taking a deep breath to calm the storm inside me. âMade these yesterday. Theyâre still good,â I say, my voice quivering just a bit.
Duke takes a bite, nodding in approval. âTheyâre good,â he says, his gaze fixed on the muffin but I sense thereâs more he wants to say.
âYeah,â I reply, masking the ache in my heart.
He looks at me, a hint of something soft in his eyes. âI like them. Thanks.â I glance at the clock, feeling the pressure of time.
âWe need to head out soon, in about fifteen minutes,â I tell him, adding, âBut no rush, okay?â
âAislingâ¦â Duke starts, and I feel this knot tighten in my chest.
âYeah?â I brace myself.
He looks serious, his voice filled with something like resolve. âIf this cycle doesnât work, Iâm ready to step back for years. I want us to do things we love, things weâve missed.â
His words hang there, heavy and full of meaning. I just stand there, my face a mask of neutrality, but inside, the hurt from his betrayal is like a blaze I canât put out.
Yet, I keep it hidden.
He goes on, âIâve said Iâd choose you first, and I mean it. Thatâs my plan for April.â But I canât find the words to respond. His promises linger in the silence, but the pain inside me is too loud, drowning everything else out.
âI think, if it doesnât happen for us now, weâll still have each other. I dream of us traveling the world, Aisling,â he says, pausing to gauge my reaction. Iâm just staring at him, my heart racing, the sting of his betrayal choking me.
âYouâre not saying anything, Aisling,â he notes after a moment.
âI donât know what to say, Duke. Whatever you think is best,â I respond, making no eye contact.
âWhat?â Heâs puzzled, taken aback.
âYouâre in charge of your life,â I say.
âAisling, this is about us,â he insists.
âWellâ¦â Iâm at a loss for words.
He reaches out, takes my hand, and I have to fight the urge to pull away. âAisling, I swear, I havenât cheated on you. I havenât been with anyone else since we got married,â he says, his eyes desperate for me to believe him.
âPlease, donât, Duke. I canât handle this right now,â I whisper, feeling tears threatening to break free.
He wraps me in his arms, pulling me close against him. His eyes are full of pain as they meet mine. âWhy canât you believe me?â His voice cracks with emotion.
âI didnât ask for explanations, Duke. Just keep them to yourself,â I say, the hurt and betrayal overwhelming me. I break free from his hold, needing space, needing air. âWe need to leave now.â