30. Chapter 30
Chapter 30
Duncan
I parked outside Elsa’s bakery and saw her in Thierry’s arms through the open window. She was crying, and it shattered me.
Was this love? This feeling of being crushed because I couldn't comfort her? I hated that she was hurting. I hated that I knew I caused her pain. Maybe Dean was right; maybe this was love. I didn't give a shit what label you put on it; what I did know was that Elsa was my woman, and I had let her down.
I felt like the biggest failure in the world. She'd asked me not to use her like her father, and I’d done just that. When she'd looked at me, silently asking me to defend her, and I hadn't, I didn't just break her; I broke myself, too.
Elsa stepped away from Thierry and smiled.
He was with her, making her smile, giving her the support I failed to provide. As I watched them together, something deep within me shifted.
I realized, with a clarity that both unsettled and comforted me, that I was in love with Elsa. I had been scared, terrified of getting hurt, and that fear had made me push her away, doubt her, and ultimately betray her. The force of that realization settled heavily on my shoulders, but it also brought a strange sense of relief. Admitting the truth was the first step toward fixing the mess I'd made.
I resolved to seek counsel from the one person I knew would give it to me straight—my mother, who was staying at my apartment while visiting Paris.
"Guillaume, to the Avenue Montaigne," I said softly to my driver.
He probably thought I'd lost my shit, asking him every night to park right where I could watch my wife for a couple of hours while she got ready to close down Délices d'Elsa; and then again in the morning at the butt crack of dawn to watch her open.
I couldn't stay away from Elsa. I watched her belly grow and hated that I didn't have the right, had lost it, in fact, to touch her and feel our child kick and thrive.
I felt the tears before I even registered them, watching as Guillaume drove away. I had lost my wife because I was the biggest fool in the world. After all the effort I'd put into protecting myself—only sleeping with women I paid to avoid emotional attachment—I finally gave my heart to a woman, only to end up hurting her. The realization hit me hard, flooding me with a self-loathing I’d never known. In that moment, I despised myself for what I’d done to Elsa, the woman with the biggest heart, the woman carrying my child, and, damn it, my everything.
I told Guillaume I'd call him when I was ready to go back to the Ritz.
I took the elevator up to my apartment and found Mom in the living room, a book in her lap and a glass of wine on the table next to her. She looked up as I walked in, her sharp gaze immediately sizing me up.
"Well, now, you look like someone kicked your puppy," she greeted, closing her book.
"Mom," I breathed.
She patted the couch next to her. I kissed her cheek and slouched down next to her, running a hand through my hair.
"Well?"
"I fucked up," I told her.
She smirked. "I heard."
"From?"
"Thierry and Dean. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they were lovers. But I do know better. Thierry is straight even if Dean isn't."
My brother was bisexual. It wasn't news to anyone in our family. However, people were always surprised to find that Dean had had both male and female companions.
"They have become friends," I admitted.
"They take care of Elsa."
I smiled wanly. "Yeah, Mom, they do."
"Especially since you're not," she quipped.
"I fucked up," I repeated.
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.
"I hurt her, badly," I confessed, feeling the truth of my words. "I didn't believe her or in her. And now I realize I'm in love with her, but I might have ruined everything so even if I told her, I don't think she'll believe me."
Mom's gaze softened just a fraction. "You've always been suspicious, Duncan. You only let family through your defenses. You accepted Emilia because she married Damian. But with Elsa…."
"But what with Elsa?" I prompted.
"You were and are scared."
"Of her?"
She placed a hand on my shoulder. "You’ve always been afraid of letting people in, afraid they’d end up hurting you. Your father blames me, says it's because I'm the same way—cautious, yet I keep making mistakes and trusting the wrong people."
A case in point was Bianca, Damian's ex-fiancée, and Emilia's older sister, whom Mom had thought of like a daughter. Bianca had cheated on Damian, and Mom never forgave her for that. She loved Emilia as we all did now, but Mom had treated her poorly when she and Damian first married. Mom hadn't forgiven herself for it, even if Emilia had.
Like mother, like son, I thought sadly. "I kept Elsa at a distance because of fear. I’m a total coward."
"Oh, stop beating yourself up for doing what comes naturally to you." She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto mine. "You need to figure out how to win her back. She's your wife and the mother of your child. I won't accept my daughter-in-law and grandchild not being part of this family."
Her words were a command, an order. But they also carried a hint of encouragement, a belief that I could fix this if I tried hard enough. "Any thoughts on how?" I asked, feeling a bit lost.
"Start by apologizing," she said bluntly. "Show her that you’re always on her side, that you're willing to be vulnerable. Be the man she fell in love with, the man who is capable of loving her back."
I took a deep breath, feeling the knot in my chest tighten some more. "I just found out that I love her. I have no clue what that really means."
"It means different things for different people," Mom stated, "For you, I think it means trust, and for her, it means someone she can rely on you, to put her first."
I arched an eyebrow. "How do you know what it means for Elsa?"
"I met her, and I'm not blind. She grew up with an asshole father who didn't put her first. Her mother is dead. She wants desperately to have a father for her child; but she also wants a husband who sees her as the most important thing in his life."
"She is," I remarked.
"Does she know?"
I shook my head.
"Tell her."
"Like I said, I don't think she'll believe me," I muttered.
"You've got your task cut out, son." Marcella's lips curled into a small smile. "I don't know how you're going to do it, but I believe you will make things right with my daughter-in-law."
"Why do you believe that?" I asked because I didn't.
She grinned. "I've never seen you fail at anything you truly wanted. I don't believe you'll let the love of your life slip away. This woman changed you, and the child she's carrying will change you even more—for the better, darling."