“Thank you for coming with me,” he whispered against her lips. “It means more than you know.”
“Consider it another wedding gift.”
Isabella grinned to herself thinking about the gift she would give Jacques in about eight months.
Talk about life’s little surprises. She’d taken three pregnancy tests before the shock transformed into joy. Complete and utter joy. She’d stifled herself, wanting to find the perfect moment to tell Jacques, and what better place than in his family home. She opened her mouth to share the happy news, then stopped at the weight in Jacques’s eyes.
“You’re a gift, Isabella. Every moment with you.” He ran his thumb over the rings on her finger again, then turned his face to the water and slid his hands into his pockets. His lips moved as though he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.
“What is it, Jacques?” she prompted.
“Seeing my parents again, it’s got me thinking a lot of things. I want what they have, I guess I always did, just never thought I would have it. I’ve waited a long time to find you, Isabella. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left me.”
The melancholy mood wasn’t like him.
“I won’t, Jacques. I promise.”
“That’s not a promise that either of us can make and it scares me.”
“Because of my…”
He didn’t let her finish the sentence. “No. It’s not that.” The bite in his voice shut down the topic of cancer.
“What then?”
“This is my home, Isabella. I’ve traveled so many roads from here. I never found happiness until I found a new home in you. Bringing you here completes the circle of my life. ” He shook his head in a motion of disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. If I died tomorrow, I would die a happy man.”
“If you died tomorrow, I would kick your ass. Then have Sabin do it and then Nicolai and then my brothers…”
He put a finger to her lips. “I’ll try to stay alive, okay?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
She reached out, laced his fingers through his and tugged. “Talk to me, please.”
Jacques turned back to the horizon. “You know how you joked around in the car about all those bad things I might be? Well, I’m not all that good, Isabella. I’ve done a lot of awful shit, in my love life, in my business life. There’s so much I’m not proud of.”
Another tug brought his focus back to her. “You’re a good man, Jacques.”
“The way you look at me, Isabella…” He shook his head as the words floated over the ocean with his gaze. “I never want to let you down.”
Beating around the bush, looking away while he spoke, not exactly Jacques’s normal, but he did both and it made her nervous. “You could never let me down, Jacques.” She heard the quaver in her voice.
So did he. He swiveled to meet her eyes directly. “Do you want children?” The words came out quick and hard.
She fought the urge to look away and held his stare. “Yes, I do.”
Jacques broke the eye contact, running his fingers across his forehead. “I never claimed to be a good man, Isabella. You said that. What if I can’t be a good father?”
She could see him struggling with the weight of his doubt and wanted to ease his mind, but knew better than most that doubt is not something one person can take from another.
And that spells disaster.
All of her dreaming was replaced by a brewing storm. She’d been careless. Jacques said he wasn’t the marrying type. It wasn’t a leap to guess that being a daddy might not be an anticipated delight.
How am I ever going to tell him I'm pregnant now? “You don’t want kids?” she asked with a sick feeling in her stomach.
“No.” He shook his head. “I mean, I don’t know. I know you do, Isabella. But fatherhood, I just don’t know.”
It was a good thing Jacques was so focused on that horizon, because she was sure the look on her face would have told him more than she wanted him to know. Especially after hearing him say those words. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face against his shoulder. “As long as I have you, I have everything.”
“You shouldn’t have to live without, Isabella.” A dull remorse echoed in his voice.
Wetness misted her eyes. She opened her mouth to say that he would be a wonderful father and promptly closed it.
What if it isn’t only self-doubt that is holding him back? What if Jacques simply doesn’t want children?
Mikalos’s booming voice interrupted them. “Jacques, go spend some time with your Mama. She won’t steal you away from Isabella, but I know she wants her baby to herself for a while.”
Thank God for small miracles. Isabella took full advantage of the reprieve. “Of course she does. And I would like Papa all to myself for a while too.”
Jacques pressed a quick kiss on her cheek and headed into the house.
Guess I'm not the only one who's grateful for the reprieve.
Mikalos wheeled himself across the terrace, followed by a butler who made no effort to touch the handles on the back of the wheelchair. He put a bottle of Orzo and two glasses on the table, then left with a bow.
“Come. Sit. Have a drink with me,” Mikalos said as he filled her glass, then his and raised it in the air. “Yiamas.”
“Salud.” She followed suit, but didn’t down the whole shot, only let the sweet warmth touch her lips. “Mmm, delicioso. We have to have this at the wedding.”
Mikalos raised the bottle to refill her glass. “You didn’t drink it,” he said with an inquisitive look. Then smiled huge and took her hand.
She suddenly felt very warm. Does he know?
How could he know?
He didn’t know.
But as she looked into those intense eyes so similar to his son’s, she knew.
Mierda. He knows.
“How long do I have to wait for my grandson?” Mikalos asked with a grin.
“Or granddaughter. ¡Joder! Did I just say that?”
Before she could jump over the balustrade, Mikalos raised his glass again. “Opa! To the fire in your soul, Isabella. May it make my grandchild strong.”
He emphasized the word “child” and threw back his shot with a hearty laugh that came right from his soul. Despite being embarrassed by her filthy mouth and worried that the cat was out of the bag, that kind of laughter was infectious. She laughed along with him.
When his laughter dulled to a chuckle, Mikalos said, “You haven’t told Jacques.”
Damn, like father, like son. Both mind readers. No way, she could keep the pregnancy a secret much longer. “Not yet.”
A hand came to her chin to lift her gaze. Mikalos stared for a long time, then said, “Why does this joy make you sad?”
She looked into those familiar copper eyes, felt the familiar connection and answered, “Jacques isn’t sure he wants children.”
The staunch response breached no argument. “Nonsense.”
“What if he decides…”
Those fingers gripped a bit tighter and those eyes burned a bit brighter. “Then you convince him that he is wrong.”
Before she could make a flip remark, like “Will do, right after I reinvent the wheel,” the conversation took another intimate turn.
“My son is not an easy man to love, Isabella. It takes a unique woman. Unique and very strong.”
Jacques was easy for her to love and the reason why made her struggle to reply. Does Mikalos know that too? She had the impression he did. Uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
“Use your strength to guide him, Isabella. You will not fail.” His eyes filled with admiration. “The love of a good woman sustains. To my grandson.” He tossed back another shot.
“Grandson?”
Isabella turned to find Jacques standing behind her. She suddenly didn’t feel strong, not strong at all. She shot to her feet so abruptly, the chair went tumbling behind her. “Jacques, we were just kidding around.”
&nbs
p; The betrayal that ignited in Jacques's eyes stopped her lips moving.
“You’re lying.”
*****
Jacques began to pace, pulling at his hair as if that would stop the tilt-a-whirl Isabella had just thrown him on.
Pregnant! She's pregnant. Holy Mother of God. But that little news flash wasn’t what sparked the fury. She lied. Again!
Christ, he’d dismissed the last one, which was damn near impossible, and she did it again. Furious wasn’t the word for what he felt.
“Jacques, it just happened.”
With the words, he erupted. “No second chances, Isabella. You’ve ruined everything. You didn’t even discuss it with me, just went right ahead…”
“I didn’t plan this.” Her voice was a mixture of indignation and panic.
“Don’t lie to me,” he sneered. “How could you do this, Isabella? How? Tell me fucking how!”
“Are you accusing me of planning this?” She actually sounded offended.
“You didn’t prevent it, did you?”
Her hands flew into the air. “You are accusing me of planning this.”
He looked at her as if to say he wasn’t an idiot. “You wanted kids and, Voilà, we’ve got one. Too convenient, Isabella.” He pointed a finger at her. “We discussed birth control and you said you had it covered.”
“I did, but I had to stop taking the pill before I checked into the Institut. With everything that’s happened since, well, I forgot…”
“You forgot?” He made a sharp huffing sound. “Like you forgot to tell me you’ve rewritten my life without even asking me how I feel about it?”
Her eyes dropped to the hands twisting in front of her belly. “I only found out yesterday and…”
“We talked on the plane. We talked in the car. Hell, you made love to me last night. Nowhere in all that time could you find the decency to tell me that you’re pregnant.”
“I’m not lying to you, Jacques.”
“Because you never lie, right. You never fucking lie.”
Her tears started to fall. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry. Fuck!”
“A baby is a blessing.”
The quiet disillusionment in her voice snapped the anger into something more frightening. Fear. Bone chilling, abject, icy fear. He understood his wife. Nothing would be allowed to harm her child and she would never abandon it. When he failed as a father, she would abandon him.
“I’m going to lose you, Isabella,” he muttered more to himself than to her.
“No. No. You’ll never lose me, Jacques.”
She rushed toward him and he backed away. Looking at her belly, he dropped into a hell of his own making and said, “I already have.”
She grabbed his biceps and jerked his body hard, making him look into her face. “You’ll be a good father, Jacques,” she insisted with so much faith and trust lighting her features.
The blackness that stained his soul cast a tendril into his mind to remind him who he was. He recoiled from her light. This was more than he could handle.
“Oh, fuck this!” he bellowed and held up his hands in a gesture of utter dismay before storming back into the house.
*****
Isabella batted at her tears.
¡Maldita sea!
Crying wouldn’t accomplish anything and she was mad. Really mad. She’d never felt this kind of emotion toward Jacques, but she had someone else to think about now and he was acting like a jerk.
Un enorme imbécil.
She put her hand over her belly and tried to calm down. Mikalos’s voice reminded her that she wasn’t alone. “Give him time, Isabella.”
“Time to what, divorce me?” she snapped.
“There’s always tomorrow.”
“I struggle with tomorrow.” She dropped into a chair and hung her head. “All any of us have is today. Only today.”
When Mikalos didn’t respond, she glanced at him through a veil of hair. Uh-oh. When a Meszaros copped that look, there was no avoiding him.
He cocked his head to one side, appraising her. “Spoken like a true realist. I didn’t take you as such.”
She didn’t really want to have this conversation again, but, oh well. “What do you mean?”
“Jacques said you were a religious woman. Where is your faith?”
“I have faith, but to me, faith is putting your trust in God. What He does with that trust is another matter altogether.”
“So it’s not faith you struggle with.” His look changed from one of appraisal to empathy. “It’s hope.”
“Otra vez.”
There was that cursed word again. The suppressed anger welled up from the safe place down deep where she kept it locked away. Her hands balled into fists as it rumbled through her. Enough with the platitudes, she’d heard them all before. Someone was going to hear her perspective on the demon Hope and that someone better be as strong as everyone said he was because this wasn’t going to be pretty.
She turned cynical, unmasked eyes on Mikalos and sneered, “Why does everyone keep yammering on and on about hope like it’s a good thing? Hope is a curse. Hope is doom. Hope is a lie. Don’t you dare tell me to have hope.” She could hear the venom in her voice as she spat the last words at Mikalos.
He didn’t seem to be offended, so she went on. “I watched mi abuelo die. I’ve worked at the Institut for over three years and seen heartbreak and pain and despair that no human being should have to endure, but do you know what the worst thing I’ve ever seen is?”
Isabella shuddered in the warm breeze at the chilling memories crowding her mind and her voice failed. Guilt crept in. It wasn’t fair to put this on Mikalos. It was her cross to bear. She suddenly didn’t want to say anymore.
Mikalos reached out and took her hand. “Tell me, Isabella. What is the worst?”
Sucking a full breath, she said, “The moment when hope is lost. The moment when the sparkle in someone’s eyes turns black, when the skip in their step becomes a shuffle, when a chin raised in strength falls in despair. That’s what hope does. It tempts the suffering with a promise, then yanks it away to leave them utterly broken. Hope is cruel and it terrifies me.”
She’d never dared to say those words to anyone, but somehow she said them to Mikalos. Her defenses shot up as she waited for him to start spewing flowery words that flew in the face of everything she’d seen in her life.
Mikalos didn’t say anything. Just stroked her knuckles and looked at her with acceptance in his eyes.
Her defenses lowered, making room for her embarrassment. Nicely done, idiota. Great first impression you’re making on your new father-in-law. “I apologize if I’ve offended you.”
He smiled as if being offended was the last emotion he felt. “How? By having a compassionate spirit? By being a woman who wants to bring peace to others with so much devotion that her own peace is destroyed? By suffering through a terrible illness after having seen so many others suffer a fate worse than yours?”
“You’re not going to tell me I’m wrong?”
“No. You’re not wrong.”
What?
“You are, however, strong. That’s what allows you to do what you do for others and still carry on. As for yourself, give yourself time to heal, Isabella. It took me two years after my stroke to believe that I wasn’t going to drop dead at any second. Then I got tired of being weak. Weakness doesn’t suit me. Doesn’t suit you either.”
Mikalos wasn’t a weak man by any definition. He was a survivor, like the one she wanted to be. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, you’re my daughter and the mother of my grandson.”
Now, he was offended.
“Do you believe in angels?”
“More than I believe in people. Why do you ask?”
“I used to think I believed in angels, but now, I, I just don’t know anymore. Jacques said he met an angel who told him we were going to have a long and happy life.”
“And you will.”
“It’s a beautiful idea, Mikalos. I want to believe in it so badly, but I’m not sure anymore. And now this happens. It makes me doubt even more. Cancer isn’t the only thing that can rewrite our happily-ever-after. I want this baby.”
The words sprang from her mouth with the full force of maternal instinct. If Jacques didn’t want to be a father, then he wouldn’t be. But she, she would always be a mother.
“And I want grandchildren,” Mikalos declared. “Explain how you feel to Jacques. He will understand.”
“I can’t, Mikalos.” A mixture of anger and regret coated her words. “I don’t have the courage to face the…” No, don’t go there.
“The future.”
She didn’t react, just sat frozen like the proverbial deer in the headlights, and he went on explaining her as if he’d known her for years.
“Because telling Jacques you’re afraid of the future will taint the happiness you’ve given to my stoic son. That’s why you don’t turn to him. Leave him with happy memories, just in case, right Isabella.” It wasn’t a question. “And that’s why you didn’t tell him about the baby. Too much future in that conversation.”
She saw the faith for her and Jacques’s future burning in Mikalos’s eyes as he spoke and felt her own weakness at not sharing that faith. “What if Jacques never wants the baby? What if he leaves us?” As the words left her mouth, her lips began to quiver.
Everything about Mikalos softened and she felt the warmth of family wrap around her. “He won’t,” he said softly and moved forward to hug her.
She closed her eyes and let the ease he offered seep into her. Mikalos’s embrace felt like home. She thought of her abuelo and her oldest brother who took his place in her life after he died. Firm, honest, contained men, who didn’t lie or coddle. Men who supported and loved her while she made her way in the world. Men she could trust. Men like this man. She needed advice and turned to her new father-in-law for it.
“I don’t know what to do, Papa. Tell me what to do.”
He cupped her face and nodded as if to say he felt their unspoken bond too. Then his firm voice advised her, “Nothing in life worth having comes easily, Isabella. Be the strong woman you are. If Jacques fights, you fight back and you win.”
Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two Page 33
