Spring City
The pain from Duke’s betrayal remained raw and unhealed as I talked to Sasha on the phone on Friday morning, the day Duke was scheduled to arrive in Rutland to meet with my dad. Each time his name came up, a new surge of agony washed over me, making it hard to concentrate on the conversation. Still, I tried to keep up appearances, holding onto a sliver of my self-respect in spite of the heartache that consumed me.
The plane just landed. Jordan texted me,’ Sasha updates me.
So Duke’s in Rutland, meeting with my dad about the divorce.
‘Okay,’ I respond, aiming for a casual demeanor.
‘He’s here, Aisling,’ Sasha says, a hint of excitement in her voice.
‘Why are you excited?’
‘Because I think he’s going to stop the divorce. You can’t split up.’
I let out a weary sigh. ‘Sasha, where’s Jordan?’
‘He’s at the airport, picking him up.’
‘Got it.’
‘I know how you’re feeling, Aisling, but maybe you should give him another chance,’ she suggests.
‘It’s not simple. To give him a chance means I have to take him back, and I’m not ready for that.’
‘I’m heading to the family house to welcome him.’
‘Okay. I’m off to Spring City. Mom’s here to pick me up. Call her house if you need me.’
‘Will do.’
‘Talk to you later, Sasha.’
I wander into the kitchen and settle on a chair at the island. Elsa and my mother are there, casually talking as they enjoy their yogurt.
‘Has Duke arrived in Rutland?’ my mother asks, turning her attention to me.
‘Yes, he’s at the airport. He just landed a little while ago.’
Elsa smirks. ‘Can we get a live recording of this much-anticipated meeting?’
‘A live recording?’ my mother repeats, sounding puzzled.
‘Yeah, I want to see how things unfold between husband and father-in-law,’ Elsa explains.
My mother shakes her head. ‘It’s going to be peaceful, I’m sure.’
Elsa then turns to me. ‘Do you think your dad might try to convince you to go back to Duke?’
The thought tightens my heart. ‘It’s possible. And I’m not sure how I’ll handle that if it happens. But I’m not going back, no matter what.’
Spring City
That evening at my mom’s house, I’m engulfed in a wave of melancholy, the sting of Duke’s betrayal still fresh. Mom invited me over for dinner, hoping to ease some of my pain. Aunt Geneva is here too, and together, we’re making dinner while uneasily waiting for news about Duke’s meeting with Dad regarding our divorce.
‘My goodness, he was justifying her actions left and right. It was infuriating,’ Aunt grumbles, discussing some celebrity scandal that’s all over the news. I’m grateful for the distraction from my own troubles.
‘That’s what they do. Defend in public, correct in private,’ Mom adds.
‘Exactly,’ I concur, ‘Celebrities always do that when their families are dragged into controversy.’
‘But why defend them so publicly?’ My aunt questions.
‘What should they do? Criticize them in front of everyone?’ Mom counters.
‘They should just keep quiet,’ Aunt insists, clearly still annoyed.
Suddenly, the smell of the fish we’re cooking overwhelms me. I cover my nose. ‘I can’t stand the smell of the fish.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, dear. Let me put this away,’ Mom quickly says, moving the fish into the oven.
‘Aisling, are you pregnant?’ Aunt teases.
‘Aunt, stop,’ I say, a bit embarrassed.
‘It’s just that you’re finding everything smelly all of a sudden.’
‘But I’ve always been sensitive to smells, Aunt.’
‘It’s gotten worse lately,’ she jokes, and we all break into laughter, easing the tension for a moment.
‘So, when are you moving back?’ my aunt suddenly asks.
‘Back where?’ I’m confused.
‘To the Chateau,’ she says, glancing at my mom.
‘Aunt, no…’ I immediately reject the idea.
‘Aisling, this trip to Rutland is supposed to get you back home. Didn’t you know?’
‘I’m not going back,’ I state firmly.
‘I lost hope for you two the moment your dad agreed to meet with him,’ my mother confesses.
‘Has he left Rutland yet? Any news?’ my mother queries.
I shake my head. ‘No one’s called me about it.’
‘Why don’t you call Sasha?’ she suggests.
‘I’ll call her later,’ I promise.
‘I bet someone’s going back to Rich Oaks soon,’ my aunt teases.
‘Oh, stop it, Aunt,’ I say, half-jokingly brushing off her comment.
‘But did you talk to the doctor about stopping the IVF?’ she asks, more seriously.
‘Yes, I did,’ I confirm.
‘And the results of your tests?’ my mother inquires, curious about what comes next.
‘I’m still waiting on them,’ I reply.
The phone rings, and Mom’s quick steps echo as she rushes to grab it. She squints at the caller ID and announces, ‘It’s Rutland. Jordan.’
My heart skips a beat. ‘Oh, okay,’ I mutter, trying to sound casual, but my insides are twisting. No matter what, this isn’t something easy to deal with.
My mother answers with a simple, ‘Hello, Jordan? … Yeah, Aisling’s here. Just a sec.’
She hands me the phone, and I escape to the backyard, craving some privacy. My fingers are trembling as I bring the phone to my ear. ‘Hey, Jordan…’
‘Aisling,’ he says, and his voice is a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.
‘How’s your day?’ I ask.
‘Good. Just got back to Spring City.’
I nod. ‘You at home?’
‘Yeah, just walked in.’
‘So, what’s up?’
‘Duke stopped by today, like they said he would this morning.’
My heart pounds. ‘And? What did Dad say?’ My voice is shaky, betraying my anxiety.
There’s a pause. ‘Um…’
I exhale sharply. ‘Jordan, I can’t deal with this right now. I need time.’
Then he drops the bomb. ‘Aisling, he’s agreed. You can get the divorce. You won.’
I’m speechless. ‘Wait, what?’
‘Yeah. He’s sorry, wants forgiveness, and he’s okay with the divorce.’
‘Okay,’ I manage to say, my mind reeling.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow, and—’
I hang up abruptly, rushing back inside. My breath is ragged, my heart racing.
Mom’s eyes are full of worry. ‘Everything okay?’
‘He agreed,’ I whisper, the words feeling surreal.
‘To what?’ Aunt Geneva chimes in, confused.
‘The divorce,’ I say softly.
‘Duke?’ she asks, seeking confirmation.
‘Yeah.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Tears blur my vision. Yes, this is what I wanted and I understand that it is okay to be emotional. This is a man that I loved with all my heart.
I feel my mother’s arms around me, a comforting embrace. Geneva looks on, her expression a mix of shock and concern. The emotions are too much, and I bolt out of the kitchen, seeking solace in solitude.
The backyard is my sanctuary, a place where I can breathe, think, feel. So when my mother breezes in with news of Aunt’s departure and her promise to call later, I’m anchored in my own world of thoughts. ‘Okay,’ is all I manage, my voice so quiet in the vastness of my uncertainty.
Her presence is gentle and soothing. ‘Do you want to talk?’ she asks, her voice soft as a feather.
I nod, a little too eagerly. ‘Sure, Mom,’ I say, with a hope that maybe, just maybe, she’ll have the answers I’m desperately seeking.
She comes closer, her steps careful, deliberate. Her eyes, those deep wells of wisdom and love, lock onto mine. ‘You know it’s not too late, right?’ she asks, her gaze searching, probing.
I’m fighting a storm inside, trying to steady my racing heart, to find my ground. I shake my head, a small, almost imperceptible movement. ‘I don’t want to go back,’ I admit, the words feeling heavy, and final, and I mean it. I understand it’s okay and normal to feel the way that I’m feeling.
Mom’s frown deepens, concern etching her features. ‘Then what made you cry?’ she asks, her voice laced with worry.
I sigh, the sound heavy with unshed tears. ‘I just didn’t like the sound of that. But I am okay now.”
What does that mean?’ she probes.
I hesitate, my heart pounding. “All I want to do now is to get away from him. Divorce seems like a huge step, just thinking about it. But I am ready…”
My mother coughs, a soft, almost dismissive sound. Her eyes roll slightly, a hint of frustration there. “The way I see it, divorce seems like a foregone conclusion.’
I’m puzzled, taken aback. ‘Why? I am serious. I ask, my mind racing.
Her next words hit me like a thunderbolt. ‘Aisling, what about when you’re pregnant? Will you even know what to do then?’
Pregnant.
Her question hangs there, loaded, a challenge that stirs a whirlwind of emotions deep within me.
I stand there, feeling like I’m in the eye of a storm, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. ‘Umm… No. Why are you asking me that?’ I stammer, feeling utterly lost.
Her eyes are full of something unspoken, a deep knowing. ‘That means you’ll need someone to help you figure it out, right?’ she says, her voice gentle.
I nod, a little dazed. ‘Yes,’ I agree, the word barely audible.
She steps closer, her eyes bright with an emotion I can’t quite place. ‘So, can I help?’ she asks, her voice soft, hopeful.
My eyes go wide, my heart skipping a beat. ‘What?’ It is all so confusing.
‘Do you even keep track of your period?’ she asks, her question direct, unflinching.
I shake my head, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me. ‘I stopped tracking it. It’s been irregular for years.”
My mother reaches out, her hands enveloping mine, her gaze steady, unwavering. ‘Aisling, I’ve been observing you. You’re pregnant. I’m certain of it.’
My heart hammers in my chest. ‘Mum… please, don’t…”I can’t finish, emotion clogging my throat.
‘Haven’t you noticed changes in your body?’ she cuts in, her voice firm.
I pause, thinking. Yes. My breasts, my appetite, the way certain smells affect me.
‘It’s true, Aisling. You’re carrying a baby,’ she says, her eyes shining with joy.
I’m still, shock coursing through me. ‘Mother, no.” I whisper, overwhelmed. “Not now…”
‘Shh,’ she hushes me, placing a finger on my lips. “ We’ll do a home test to confirm, but trust me, your little one is here.’
I nod, tears and laughter mingling, a storm of emotions enveloping me. Mom’s words echo in my head, “The Heir has arrived,’ as I stand there, lost and found all at once.
