Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SOPHIE
Did he just leave me? Again? After I had confessed my feelings?
My throat burned as I grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from falling.
He would return, I told myself.
He would!
But even when the sound of a door opening and closing reached me, the steps didn’t come closer. And though his steps were gentle, I could still hear him going up the stairs. He’d done a full circle through the backyard just to avoid passing near me.
Silence. I told him I loved him. Why was he still jealous? Was it me mentioning Edmond being my first that angered him? Or worse, disgusted him?
I shook my head. No. He wasn’t that kind. He wasn’t. He’d let me into his world. Let me build my life. Supported me.
He constantly showed me that I wasn’t defined by what was expected of me. That I was someone. Someone more than a shiny trophy. That no one could dictate what I could do.
Then why… why was he acting this way?
I sat on the chair—the same one where we’d shared the first meal we’d prepared together. The one where he barely hid his racing heart while I called him by his name for the first time.
He was attracted to me. I couldn’t be wrong.
Or was I imagining it? But then… why was he doing all of this?
I would never have let anything happen to you.
Was all of this out of guilt? All the things he’d given me?
All out of guilt?
The front door clicked, shaking me from my thoughts as I rose from the chair.
Ms. Hale.
Her steps came closer. But I had no desire to let anyone see me, so I turned to the same door Viktor had left through earlier, his blanket dropping from my shoulder. Yet I didn’t care. My only concern—get back to my room.
The morning breeze hit my face as I stood in front of the back doors. In another time, I would have stayed longer, enjoyed it. But I needed my room. So I used Viktor’s side terrace and went through the gallery, emerging in the middle corridor, in front of the restroom.
Stairs and the chance of meeting Viktor while getting to my room? Or my office, which was two steps away?
Maybe I could bury myself in work. Anything to stop thinking.
The choice was obvious.
I should have probably turned off the lights when I entered the room. Instead, I closed the curtains, and locked both doors with the key.
Yet halfway to my desk, my legs crumbled and I fell. My wrists hurt, and when I touched them—they were cold. Icy. I pressed them against my burning chest, trying to claw away the heat. But nothing changed.
It only got worse as the heat spread to my throat, into my ears and mouth.
And when a breath escaped my lips, the only sound that came was a small rasp in my throat.
Was it as loud as it sounded in my ears?
I curled up, pressing my forehead against the ground, seeking its coldness.
I needed to work. Ms. Lind was probably waiting for my approval.
Put the signature and send her the documents I worked on during the night.
I could do that. It would be much more productive than torturing myself thinking about how everything we’d built wasn’t based on care or respect that was supposed to shift into some kind of love with support and affection.
No! It was pure guilt. And guilt would never become love.
I got up to take a step and fell again.
He’d said he wasn’t disgusted by me. He’d even drunk from my glass. That was around five months ago.
Was that an act? Was that why he’d distanced himself? I’d been telling myself it was stupid to expect to spend so much time together when both of us were drowning in work. Was I lying to myself? Was I creating excuses for him?
Had he tried to get close, only to discover I was too damaged for him? Or maybe he, like everyone else, was pitying me? Just hiding it better.
My table blurred in front of my eyes.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed as I sat on the floor replaying my confession over and over.
Ms. Hale came only once, knocking on the door, but I didn’t have the energy to answer.
So she left after letting me know my coffee, made by Viktor, was ready, and was waiting for me on the tray in the library.
I smirked at Viktor’s audacity to make me a coffee. What about the courage to come knock on my door?
Coward!
A ring of the telephone made me jump, and pain shot through my head with the movement. Each step—a new wave of agony. It was Ms. Lind, asking for final approval.
“I’ll send it right away.” My voice was hoarse. Even trying my hardest to sound cheerful, it came out awful.
“I know you’re supposed to take care of yourself, but we need it for today’s meeting. I’ll pass the notes later,” she said.
I appreciated her tact in not specifying why.
But right before dropping the call, I asked, “Ms. Lind, could you send me an analysis regarding expansion in Eastern Europe? Starting from Kosvenia?”
“Wasn’t that in the plan for next year, after we get established locally?”
“Yes, but with the current state, I want to reevaluate our next steps.”
MoRen had seen potential, and I needed to dig deeper. Their failed attempts were because of a lack of etiquette. And that was not a problem of mine. The opportunity was there, and I’d be a fool to let it pass. Besides, if not me, then someone else would take the spot.
Rafa would understand. I’d compensate him somehow. Only him.
I nodded to my thoughts, and another pulse of headache hit my forehead.
The moment the call ended, I hurried to send the fax. My next plan: sleep. Yet with the headache I had, I doubted I would succeed. So I left to find Ms. Hale to ask for painkillers. But when I reached the door to the library, I stopped and turned to the one that led to the corridor.
Viktor’s coffee could go cold for all I cared.
The door to the bathroom was open, and when my gaze fell on the mirror, I was horrified by the puffiness of my eyes.
The first thing I said to Ms. Hale once I entered the kitchen wasn’t about painkillers as I’d planned. Instead I gestured to my face. “Not a word to Viktor!”
The housekeeper lowered her head. But I didn’t waver. “Ms. Hale?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She finally nodded. “Do you want me to pass anything instead?”
Did I? “Tell him I ordered you not to share. If he needs to know something, he knows where to find me.” I wondered if he had the nerve.
“Understood.” She nodded.
But before she could say anything else, I asked, “Can you give me something for a headache?”
Her eyes widened for a moment before she hurried to bring them. And when standing again in front of me, searching for the right pill, she said, “And ma’am… Madame Noir sent you flowers.”
“Madame Noir?”
“Yes, they were passing along their apologies. It seemed there was some misinterpretation due to surnames, and they were ashamed of how everything was handled.”
Ah, the Duret incident. If word got out, Maison de Lys’s reputation would be hit.
I took my painkiller with water, praying it would take effect immediately. And though maybe it was the cold water that went down my throat, my brain felt a little less foggy.
You dirty wench.
I smirked.
For once I’d agreed to go out, trusting Maison de Lys to keep everything secure and private.
Yet here we were. I’d faced two of the most unwanted people in my life.
To their credit, Edmond was out of their control.
He’d most surely gotten the information about my whereabouts through Rafa.
And Maison de Lys had handled it perfectly.
Said I refused, they’d made sure to escort him out.
And they’d blacklist him if he dared to create a scene. But the Durets? Messing up like that?
Madame Noir was probably losing her mind. All because of a mistake by new staff. But that wasn’t my concern.
“Pass along my concerns about why the Durets and their daughter-in-law aren’t blacklisted yet.”
“They said they’d blacklisted them already.”
“Good. Then they have nothing to worry about.”
“And, ma’am…”
I stopped halfway to the door, looking back at Ms. Hale.
“Your sister called yesterday. I told her you’d fallen asleep. She asked you to call her back.”
“Ah!” Cath must be horrified. Yesterday was supposed to be one of her brightest days, and it had been, until I’d made it all about myself.
I knew something like this would happen, and felt horrible for everything I’d caused. Even worse, because she was probably blaming herself, worrying about my well-being.
Well, at least yesterday wasn’t the reason I felt awful. It had been overwhelming, but nothing compared to my worst days. Like today. Yet if I avoided Cath now, she might blame herself.
I hated that thought.
But I didn’t have the energy to call her. Besides, she’d sense something was off, and no way would I tell her what the real reason was. Which brought me back to the main problem—she’d believe she was the cause of my state.
I let out a long sigh. Then another, and another, while turning my head from right to left.
“How about…” I started. “A dinner?”
“A dinner?”
“Yes!” That sounded like a great idea! “Tonight.”
“With your sister?”
“Hm… maybe… Anne? Yes, give them a call and say I’ve invited them for dinner. At seven.” I couldn’t say whether I was getting lighter because of the hint of excitement in my voice or whether my voice got that tone from the sudden lightness I felt. “And organize everything on our terrace.”
“What if they can’t make it?”
I raised an eyebrow. They would! Cath was dying to visit Rowks Estate. But she knew better than to come uninvited.
“Would it be only women?”
“Ah…” I didn’t want Viktor to think this was some kind of gathering to gossip about what happened.
Not at all. “In fact, let’s also invite my brother and Cath’s fiancé.
Mark and my hus—Mr. Rowks are friends. Let him know as well.
He’s welcome to join.” And I wouldn’t think about whether he would or not.
“You can pass that part along word for word,” I said while heading out of the kitchen.
If Mr. Rowks wanted to be married only on paper, then let it be! I wouldn’t go begging him for attention. And I surely wouldn’t sit all day and cry about how unfair life was.
The dinner was a good idea. We’d never had a normal one without our parents present, which meant every word had to be measured.
Besides, one less problem—now I wouldn’t spend my day anticipating dinner alone with Mr. Rowks, wondering whether he’d even show up.
Or if he did appear, how I should behave.
I’d have company. And if Mr. Rowks decided to skip, I wouldn’t be alone.
I patted myself mentally before stopping at the end of the stairs.
My puffy eyes!
They wouldn’t magically become normal after a few hours of sleep.
“Ms. Hale!” I looked down from the staircase rails. “Please make sure we have cold spoons and anything else that can help with puffiness by the time I wake up.”