Vanquished (The Encounter #3)(19)



“I’ll definitely keep that in mind, but so far, so good.”

He arched one aristocratic eyebrow. “You look far from good, Isobel. It’s as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

Not in that sense, but in some ways, it felt as though I was digging myself a hole. No matter how much I tried to convince myself there was a way out of this, I always reached a dead end, and my brightly colorful imagination didn’t help an iota. And upon learning this new tidbit from the doctor today, my spirits were at an all-time low.

Sighing, I tilted my chin as our gazes connected. “I’m having twins.”

“Oh.” He looked perplexed, grappling at the sheer fact.

As was I.

I mean, bearing one baby was enough to cause a ripple, but two? It would cause a tidal wave.

“This is terrible news, isn’t it?” I asked.

“The only terrible in this entire situation is neither you nor the twins, Isobel,” he said before directing an encouraging smile at me. “Well, all that aside, I’m letting you know I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. And before you decline my invitation like you normally do, I think you deserve a little celebration. Give yourself a break, even if it’s only for a couple of hours. It might help lift your spirits a little.”

A celebration.

It was a foreign concept given how dire it was for me, but he could be right. The constant stress had worn me down. Maybe I could allow myself to push all my worries aside and simply live in the moment for a few hours.

“Dining out it is, then.” Slowly getting up, I checked my wristwatch, which indicated it was four in the afternoon. “Let me unwind for a bit. How does six sound?”

He gave me a slight nod. “Six is perfect.”

“Brilliant,” I responded as I watched him get back to work.

Retreating back to my room, I made a delirious sigh the second my eyes spotted the comfortable bed embellished with the softest, most heaven-like goose down comforter that I had ever felt in my life. Julien wondered why I had contained myself for the past week in the hotel room. It wasn’t a difficulty, not when this bed felt like I was being cradled by the feather wispiness of clouds. Who could resist such a dreamlike state? I sure wasn’t able to.

There was something about power naps that refreshed one’s vitality, although frightening images plagued me in my sleep. It was as if it was imbedded deep into my subconscious and reminding me of the underlying dangers ahead. I worried. How could I not? But at the same time, I consoled myself that I was probably overreacting. Most pregnant women did, so why would I be any different?

I finally decided not to give another moment to my wayward imagination. Chances were that it would only agitate me, leaving me anxious for something that might or might not come into reality. Besides, there were no threats—blatant or otherwise—with the exclusion of my father. As a result, for the time being, I only had to worry about my pregnant state and how to achieve my goal without getting Hugo involved.

Tonight was the perfect time to finally start discussing how to properly achieve this.

With that sole purpose in mind, I compelled myself to slide off the bed to have a quick shower at the stroke of five fifteen. I had forty-five minutes to get myself ready, and knowing Julien’s preference when it came to dining, I best get properly dressed to appear presentable being seen next to him.

After a shower, I lathered my body with body cream before adding another layer on and around my stomach. Given that I was expecting twins, I could only imagine what it would do to my skin. Stretch marks were inevitable, but if I could prevent a few from sprouting or if it was possible not to overstretch my skin by keeping it hydrated and supple, then I would happily smear double to triple layers of oils and lotions. At eight weeks, there was barely a recognizable bump unless one seriously stared at it. However, as the doctor had warned, I should closely watch my salt and sugar consumption, or I would balloon up. Maybe that was the problem: I barely eat, and when I did get ravenous, which was spotty at best, I indulged in cheese platters and desserts. Apart from those rare occurrences, I would nibble on my meals. Some truly smelled divine, enticing my senses, but the moment I indulged, I found the food unappetizing. It was bizarre, but apparently not a new discovery in the universe called pregnancy. Hopefully, tonight wouldn’t be a hardship.

Feeling rather optimistic, I strode to the bedroom and opened the closet, scanning the small selection of clothes that Julien’s driver had packed in an overnight bag when he had gone to fetch my passport at the flat. Since there were only two dresses to choose from, with the other option being black, I decided to don the lilac maxi dress. The tag was still attached to it, so I pulled it off with one hasty tug before slipping it on my body. Matching it with silver strappy heels, I then strode back into the bathroom to dry my hair and apply some makeup.

Just as I was about to dry my hair, I noted how the dress brought out the purple hue in my eyes. For a quick second, my mind retreated to the past, to the time when the man I loved stared deeply into my eyes as if I was the most precious thing he had ever set his eyes upon. Each time he had done that, I had caught my breath, my heart galloped, and the butterflies would dance in my stomach from the anticipation of his kiss.

Shaking the madness away, I steeled myself and got on with doing my hair and makeup. There was no turning back. I simply had to deal with the fact that I was heartbroken, beyond pregnant, and about to embark on unchartered territory with unknown dangers that lurked underneath its feral, dark waters.

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