Presley Estates, Wesbury
In the expansive quiet of The Chateau’s kitchen, I lean against the cool marble counter, phone in hand, listening to my voicemail messages playing one after another. Each beep of a new voicemail tugs at the periphery of my heart.
Duke’s voice fills the room. Concern. Always wrapped in layers of formality. “Where are you? Are you okay? Call me.” I slide my thumb over the delete option, the action quicker than the fleeting thought of calling him back.
The next message? Duke again. I roll my eyes and quickly hit delete.
Next, Elsa’s familiar chirpy tone, was a contrast to my own heavy heart. “Aisling, darling, I’ve been trying to reach you! Please, let me know you’re safe.” The pang of guilt is sharp, but I’m not ready to face her questions. Delete.
Indira’s melodic voice follows, each word dripping with concern. “Ais, it’s been hours. Please just send a text?” I can picture her, brows furrowed, pacing the living room floor. But her worry, genuine as it might be, feels suffocating. Delete.
A breath of surprise escapes my lips when Sasha’s cheerful voice rings out. “Hey! Your favorite double chocolate fudge cake is ready. Hope it brings a smile to your face!” A faint smile does grace my lips, if only for a second, before it’s replaced with the prevailing weight of my emotions.
But then, the one voice I wasn’t prepared for, my mother’s – Elena. A shiver runs down my spine as the deep-set worry in her tone is evident. “Aisling, it’s Mom. Call me back, please.” Her voice cracks a little, betraying a vulnerability she rarely shows.
My fingers dial her number almost instinctively. It rings once, twice, and then she picks up, her voice a rush of relief. ‘Aisling! Thank goodness!’
‘Hey, Mom,’ I whisper, clutching the phone tighter, grounding myself in the familiar cadence of her voice.
‘You had me worried sick! Why haven’t you been answering?’
“I’m fine.”
Her relief is audible. ‘I thought you were coming over today.’
‘I’ll swing by tomorrow, Mum. It’s late, and I’m about to cook dinner.’
‘Is Duke there with you?’
‘He’s at church, hasn’t come back yet.’
Her questions keep coming. ‘What have you been up to today?’
‘Just stuff around the house. Cooking, cleaning. I sent the staff home.’
‘Why would you do that, Aisling?’
I pause, choosing my words carefully. ‘I just wanted some space, you know? Just me and Duke, alone in our home.’
Her voice is cautious. ‘What are you planning, Aisling?’
I don’t answer, my mind racing with a mix of plans and secrets, all waiting to unfold.
‘I just want to be a wife, you know?’ I tell her.
Her worry is clear in her tone. ‘Aisling, what’s going on? What are you planning?’
I try to sound calm. ‘I’m fine, Mother. Really, don’t worry about me.’
Her next question hits too close to home. ‘You’re not thinking of hurting Duke, are you?’
I force a laugh, even though it feels hollow. ‘No, Mother. I wouldn’t do that.’
She’s still not convinced. ‘I want to believe you, Aisling. But sending everyone away… it’s a bit unsettling.’
I insist, trying to sound more confident than I feel. ‘It’s better this way. I don’t need them around.’
The conversation shifts, and I brace myself. ‘Did you find out anything more about that girl?’
‘Yeah, I talked to Heather today,’ I admit.
‘Geneva mentioned you went to see her.’
I nod, even though she can’t see me. ‘We talked a lot. Turns out Duke’s been seeing her for a while.’
My mom’s shock is palpable. ‘Seriously? I can’t believe it.’
‘Yeah, he lied about where he was going. He’s been with her.’
Her sympathy is a small comfort. ‘Oh, Aisling, I’m so sorry.’
I let out a heavy sigh. ‘That’s just how it is, Mom.’
She’s full of concern. ‘Do you want to come home tonight?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m okay, really. I didn’t even cry. I won’t give him the satisfaction. He’s just like every other guy out there. I don’t care anymore. I won’t confront him. It’s his life. Let him do what he wants. I’m done.’
Her voice is urgent now. ‘But we have to do something, Aisling.’
I cut her off, my voice cold. ‘I’m not getting involved. He can go make his baby for all I care. I’m out of this.’
