Vanquished (The Encounter #3)(17)
How I wished my life was different in this instance. I knew wishing away wouldn’t solve anything, though. It would merely make my life much harder to live through, so I supposed I should stop this nonsense, face the music, and dance.
“Tomorrow. Anytime in the afternoon would be fine for me.” Rearranging myself on the sofa, I leaned against the arm of it before setting my head atop the cushion. “Have you spoken to him lately?” I asked, partially curious to know anything about Hugo and, at the same time, terrified at the thought of keeping this baby a secret.
Julien’s lips pressed together as he efficiently strode towards the bar and poured himself whiskey. “He’s the same as any other day, I suppose. He’s gone to Macau and won’t be expected to return for another month since he’s acquired another casino. He’s having it demolished in its entirety and building it to his impeccable standards before stamping it his gilded name on it.” He took the shot of whiskey, leaving not a drop before setting it down with a thud then generously pouring himself another one. “Four weeks should be enough to craft a plan,” he quietly uttered then raised the glass towards me. “Here’s praying that God will be generous and things will go according to plan.” He toasted me from afar before making a determined nod and taking the second dose of alcohol into his system, gulping it down as if it was water.
Watching him effortlessly take that shot without as much as a dry hiss like he was sucking air made me inwardly cringe. I loved my wines, but whiskey was a whole different matter altogether. It was too strong, too bold for my liking. I supposed, in a way, it showed the typical French blasé sophistication. It gave the impression that they weren’t easily disillusioned, a cultured breed that thrived on superb quality, openly expressed sexuality, proud history, profound art, and panache: the laissez faire doctrine—a mastered trait that was purely and significantly French and one I had always resented being amongst the women in Hugo’s company. Sherry and Chantel surely had it in spades, while I appeared unrefined and unpolished.
Damn you, Hugo. I had no doubt in my mind that he had brought one woman with him, if not all three of them just to whet his insatiable appetite for carnal pleasures.
The immediate ache in my heart felt as if I had just been stabbed right in the middle before the knife twisted, making my miserable organ constrict in protest. He was living his life as if he hadn’t come upon my existence, as if I was simply that easily replaceable chit that wasn’t important nor deemed memorable. Damn it to Hell! I had already known he would resume his lifestyle, but hearing it from Julien … His confirmation grievously delivered a new wound to me.
How long must this suffering go on? I wondered as I closed my eyes, desperately trying not to shed a drop of tear. Breaking down right this moment wasn’t an option.
I scolded myself as I tried to breathe through the slight parting of my lips, inhaling and exhaling in short measures, as I wretchedly attempted to push negative thoughts away. Think of the baby and nothing else. Silently, I urged myself to pull through before Julien took notice of me.
“Do you wish to dine in or out for dinner? Is there any cuisine you’re craving in particular?” Julien asked in a caring manner.
The tone of his voice made me wish it was Hugo asking me.
“I think I’m going to skip dinner altogether actually. I might order in soup later, but as of now, I’d rather take a nap.” Sleeping was the only way I could escape my thoughts and the ache in my heart, not to mention how exhausting it was to talk and think about what the road would look like in the future. “Why don’t you go out? I’m sure you’ve been chipping away with boredom dealing with my woes. Go out, surround yourself with lovely folks, and tell me all about it in the morning.”
The man needed to let loose and do whatever men did to get their mojo going. Ever since we had gotten here, he hadn’t socialized at all, and knowing how Julien was, I would bet my soul that he had probably declined all invitations that came his way. I felt such a burden as it was, so I didn’t want to alter his lifestyle, as well. I knew he came back here out of worry and concern, but with the security he had hired, there was no chance someone could harm me.
Julien was quiet a moment, as if he was pondering my suggestion. “Are you sure that you’re okay with that?”
Most definitely.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” I made a small yawn as I got up from the sofa, hopelessly lethargic. “Honestly, Julien, I don’t want you to change your life because I’m here, asking for your help and protection. You’re doing enough for me, so please, do us both a favor and go have fun, yeah?”
His pensive look turned into a bright smile. “As you wish, Isobel. I’ll see you in the morning, and perhaps I’ll tell you the tales of my wickedness.”
“Oh, please do. I look forward to it.” I laughed, wondering what he intended to do tonight. He and Hugo were mates, and judging from Hugo’s decadent appetites, I was left wondering what this man preferred. Nevertheless, it wasn’t my concern.
+++
The next day, I was ushered into a private clinic to see the obstetrician. She was a pleasant woman who seemed to be in her sixties. With her salt and pepper hair, soft voice, and warm eyes, I felt at ease in her presence, secure and safe. Therefore, it was no wonder that I easily barraged her with question after question about pregnancy and anything related to the baby.