I curled up in bed, wedging a pillow under my heavy stomach, pulled the duvet over my head and listened to them arguing outside my bedroom door.
‘She’s not ok, this is her “I’m pretending everything’s fine, when it’s really not” act. Trust me, I know her,’ advised Coco.
‘You’re saying I don’t? I’m her brother. She said she was fine, we went, we did the best we could. She knew going into this that she had no chance of finding him. She decided she was going ahead with the pregnancy on her own. I don’t see what could have changed,’ Dom muttered stubbornly.
‘She’s pregnant, she’s emotional. She really liked this guy and she’s carrying his baby. Of course she’s upset. No woman wants to have a child and the father not want to be a part of its life. She knew the odds of finding him were slim, but there’ll have been that small glimmer of hope in the back of her mind that we would, that he’d have been ecstatic to see her, that he’d have swept her onto his white charger and they’d have ridden off into the sunset, to their happy ever after. That’s the difference with us Dom, the difference between men and women. Little girls dream of fairy tale endings, they don’t dream of being single parents and having to explain to their child that they don’t know where their daddy is.’
I tried to block out their voices as tears started to stream down my face. Coco was right, I’d really wanted to find him, even if not for me, for Tristan, for this tiny being growing inside me. I didn’t want him to learn that he’d been a mistake, that the only reason he was here was because two adults couldn’t contain their lust for each other and were stupid enough to have sex without a condom. I knew I could tell Tristan that I’d made the choice to keep him, that I’d chosen to love him, that I already loved him more than I’d ever thought possible, but would that be enough? It wasn’t his fault that he was here and was going to grow up without a father. I covered my face with my hands as I sobbed. Being in Paris had been so much harder than I’d expected. Retracing my footsteps from our day together, seeing all the sights he’d shown me, places where he’d held my hand, or wrapped his arms around me. Where he’d wiped the chocolate sauce off the corner of my lips with his thumb after we’d eaten crepes. Everything had seemed so vivid, as if I was right back there with him, feeling the chemistry that had shimmered between us.
It had taken us four days to do everything Luc and I had done in one. Dom was right, I was waddling I was so large and with the heatwave being experienced it made me even more tired, I’d had to have an afternoon sleep each day, while they went out and explored on their own. The bar staff at the club remembered him, but insisted he hadn’t been in for months. I’d convinced Coco and Dom to stay in the club that night, to have fun and I’d returned to the hotel, feeling lost and empty. I’d had no luck remembering where he lived either, all I remembered was that there was a metal front door to a marble lobby, an old fashioned lift and he’d been the top floor apartment. In the morning I’d run out and had darted down numerous little streets, trying to find a taxi and asking to return to the hotel. I’d had my eyes shut for most of the journey back, my mind replaying the night I’d just spent with him. Solidifying it in my memories, so I could return to it and live it over and over again. Which I did. Often. Coco was right, I had been hanging on to that small shred of hope that I’d bump into him, that I’d have come away with at least his consent to be in Tristan’s life. It wasn’t about money, it was never about money. I earned enough with my business to support us both. I’d just wanted Tristan to have his father want to be involved. I’d also wanted for him to want to be involved with me. Two nights and a day with my enigmatic Frenchman and I missed him like I’d miss oxygen. It had to be the pregnancy hormones, that was all this was. But if that was the case, why did it hurt so much?
‘Hey, sssshhhh, you’ll get yourself and the baby stressed if you carry on crying,’ Coco whispered, as she tucked into the bed behind me and put her arm around me. I grabbed her hand and held it tightly, my chest rattling and bottom lip quivering, as I tried to pull myself together. ‘You tried, Lulu. You have to comfort yourself with the fact that you can look Tristan in the eyes one day and say that you did everything you could to look for his dad. There’s nothing more you could have done.’
‘Do you think I’m crazy?’ I moaned, between gasps for air.
‘No. I think you’re seven months pregnant, hormonal and emotional and you really liked this Luc. But there’s no point beating yourself up for what might have been, it’s done. You have to focus on you now, on you and this little boy who’s going to need all of your love and support and you’re not doing it alone. You have your parents, me and unfortunately your stupid brother.’
‘I heard that,’ came Dom’s voice, as I giggled and wiped my face. I felt him lie down in front of me, on top of the duvet, peeling it back to expose my face. ‘O crap, you look like shit.’
‘Not helping,’ warned Coco.
‘Well she does, but luckily her amazing and intelligent brother knows that when she’s upset she loves a bag of lemon bonbons and he has one right here.’
‘Where did you get those?’ I asked, using the heels of my hands to try to dry my face.
‘I may have hidden a few bags around your house for emergency purposes,’ he smiled, as he rummaged in the bag and pulled one out, popping it into my mouth.
‘Thank you,’ I mumbled, as I tucked it into the corner of my cheek and enjoyed the lemon flavour saturating my mouth. He held my face and kissed my forehead. ‘Both of you,’ I added, as I squeezed Coco’s hand.
‘I’m pregnant by proxy, don’t I get one?’ she asked. Dom sighed and passed one over, helping himself to one as well, as we all lay there.
‘Are you really going to be ok?’ he asked, with a concerned frown.
‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘I’m just sad that the door of that possible chapter of my life has definitely been closed now. But Coco’s right. I have Mum and Dad and you two, everyone at work is so excited too, Violet especially. We’ll be fine. Tristan’s not going to lack for any love. But once I’m back to full fitness, I need to think about looking for another house. Somewhere bigger, so he has lots of room to run around and a garden to play in.’
‘Well you have plenty of time before it gets to that stage,’ Dom advised.
‘Thank you both for coming to Paris with me, I couldn’t have done it on my own.’
‘You’ll never have to do anything on your own, you have both of us,’ Coco whispered, as she kissed my hair. ‘Swallow that toffee, so I know you’re not going to choke on it, then have a sleep. You’ve over done it the last few days.’
‘I am pretty tired,’ Dom sighed as he snuggled down, sharing my pillow.
‘I wasn’t talking to you and can’t you cover your face? You’re so damn ugly it’s hurting my eyes.’
‘I love how you two get along so well,’ I smiled, with a shake of my head. They bickered constantly, but they were best of friends and would do anything for each other. No, Tristan wouldn’t miss out, we’d make sure of it. But it didn’t stop a few more tears from falling, for what I’d miss out on now I’d lost Luc for good.
I was hot, sticky and exhausted, but I held out my arms as the midwife handed over my little boy, carefully swaddled in a blue blanket. Coco was bawling her eyes out as she stood next to the bed and I felt tears dampening my cheeks as I looked at his little pink face, all scrunched up and felt my heart expand.
‘Hello, Tristan McQueen,’ I whispered, kissing his forehead.
‘I’ll let your family in for five minutes, but that’s all until you’ve had a rest,’ warned the midwife. I nodded with a smile, without even looking up at her. I couldn’t tear my eyes off him.
‘He’s so cute, look at all that dark hair,’ Coco sniffed as she blew her nose in a most unladylike fashion. ‘It’s darker than yours.’
‘Just like his daddy’s,’ I whispered, wondering whose eye colour he’d have, my amber ones or Luc’s rich chocolate ones. Odds were it would be Lu
c’s, as the more dominant colour. I smiled sadly at the thought “dominant,” which brought back so many memories. Nine months on hadn’t lessened my desire for him, or the nightly appearances he made in my dreams. I hadn’t had sex since, I’d had plenty of opportunities in the early months of my pregnancy, before I was showing, but I hadn’t been ready. It felt wrong when I was carrying his baby and I also wanted to get him out of my system first, but as of yet it still hadn’t happened.
‘Lulu, baby, are you ok?’ came Mum’s voice. I looked up and smiled with a nod as she approached the bedside, Dad and Dom in tow. She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair as she looked down at him and started crying, which set Coco off again, then me.
‘O God, it’s like I’ve walked into my worst nightmare,’ Dad moaned. ‘Give me a torture chamber any day, a group of crying women, no way. Dominic, pull yourself together, show some male solidarity,’ he uttered, as Dom wiped his face too.
‘We’re so proud of you,’ Mum whispered, as she looked at me expectantly. I sighed, I couldn’t hold him forever, they all wanted a turn. I kissed him again and relaxed my hold and let her take him from me, hating how suddenly empty I felt, hoping that would diminish in time. Coco squeezed my hand as we watched my parents and Dom cooing over him, Dad muttering something about dust in his eyes as he pulled a tissue out of his pocket, making everyone laugh.
‘You ok?’ whispered Coco. I looked up at her with a smile and nodded.
‘I’ve never felt so tired, but I’m ok. Thanks so much for being here for me. Did I hurt your hand?’
‘What’s a few bruised fingers compared to that coming out of your vagina?’ she replied with a roll of her eyes, making me giggle. ‘I’m never having children after watching that, I can tell you.’
‘You will, one day you’ll be sitting here and I’ll be holding your hand.’
‘Well, if I ever find the guy that I want to settle down with, maybe,’ she nodded. I bit my lip and she grimaced. ‘Shit sorry, me and my big mouth.’
‘It’s not the way I thought I’d have a baby,’ I admitted, as I looked back over at him, being passed from Mum to Dad, ‘but right now I don’t care. He’s here and he’s not going to want for anything, I’ll make sure of that.’
‘O my God,’ exclaimed Dom, making my heart race as I checked no one had dropped him. ‘He just opened his eyes.’
‘No!’ I moaned, gutted to have not been the first to see them. ‘What colour? Are they blue? Everyone says babies are born with blue eyes.’
‘No,’ he replied, ‘really dark brown, but he has flecks of amber in them. He’ll be really good looking, you can tell.’
‘Well duh!’ Coco replied, as she went to have a look too. ‘His dad was an eleven and so is his mum, of course he’s going to be a looker.’
‘I wonder whether he’s thinking in French or English,’ Dom mused, as Dad rocked Tristan back and forth.
‘He’s not thinking at all, dumbass,’ Coco sighed. ‘He’s a baby. Are you going to teach him French, Lulu?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I smiled. My French was pretty good now, I’d been practicing before we went to Paris to try to find Luc. But even without him in our lives, my son still had French blood in his veins. He should learn it, as well as English, it was part of his heritage. I sat up looking concerned, as Tristan let out a startled cry.
‘Come on, he probably needs feeding, then Lulu needs a rest,’ Mum advised, giving me a reassuring smile.
‘But I haven’t held him yet,’ moaned Dom. ‘You two were being selfish with the cuddles.’
‘He’s our first grandson,’ Dad objected.
‘He’s my first nephew.’
‘And my first Godson, I haven’t had cuddles yet either and I had to endure all the screaming and breaking of my fingers,’ added Coco.
‘You’ll all get turns, lots of turns, but he’s my first baby, he needs me right now and I need him.’ I stretched my arms out and Dad sighed and handed him back over.
‘Come on you lot, let’s give her some time alone, coffee and cake’s on me. We’ll bring you something back, ok? Lulu, ok?’ he repeated. I reluctantly looked up and nodded, before looking back at my little boy.
‘Ok,’ I whispered, as I put a finger in his little hand and smiled as he tightened his grip. I didn’t even notice everyone leave the room, I was too distracted with him opening his eyes and seeing those gorgeous brown ones looking back at me. Dom was right, he looked just like Luc, with a tiny bit of me in those rare amber flecks. ‘You are gorgeous,’ I told him, as I kissed him again. ‘Mummy loves you so much, never forget that. You’re my proof of a magical weekend in Paris, a weekend I’ll never forget now that I have you.’ He nuzzled against my chest and I opened my gown to let him feed. ‘A breast man, just like your father,’ I sighed.
Reactions
Luc
The Present
I watched the Mercedes speed away with her in the back, my heart beating like I’d just done a 10K run. Damn it. Six years, six whole years and I’d not been able to stop thinking about her. Waking up that Sunday morning to find her gone had hit me hard. I spent the entire afternoon at her hotel, I’d even raced to the airport that night and purchased a plane ticket to London, giving me access to all outgoing flights’ departure gates, in the hope that I’d spot her, to no avail. I’d fucked a lot of women in my life, dated a few too, but there was something about her that had captured my attention, in a way that no other woman had. It was safe to say that she’d ruined me, sex after her felt empty, I gained no real satisfaction from it. Even picturing my later conquests as her did me no good at all. She was the one I wanted. She was the one I craved, like a drug. The longer I went without her, the deeper my cravings ran. Alcohol didn’t numb the pain either, so I focussed on work. Work became my priority, I ate, slept and breathed it, fucking countless women in the rare free time I had, hoping to find another to make me feel the way that she had, with no success. It was about a year later when I was invited by Monsieur Bouchon, head of the Bouchon banker family, to discuss a merger, I’d assumed it was one of a financial variety. It was of sorts, just not the kind I’d imagined. Marrying his daughter, Myrtille, would solidify our companies, I’d have the backing of one of the largest financial institutions in the world, they’d have my finance management expertise, it was a win win for everyone, but for Myrtille and I.
I’d never met a woman to whom I was less attracted, and it wasn’t just her looks or physique. She radiated toxicity. She was spoiled, entitled and cold. I was well aware that my business was the only thing in life that brought me any form of satisfaction lately, so if marrying her meant I could expand, then that was what I was prepared to do. The marriage was arranged within months, I spent my bachelor night with a brunette, the closest girl I could find to resemble Lulu, my last hurrah I suppose. I knew I wasn’t the type of man to break my bonds, no matter how fake they may be. My lookalike brought me no consolation either. So when I woke the morning of my wedding, I decided that if I was sexually doomed, I may as well gain financially, so we’d gone ahead with it. I was so drunk on our wedding night that I slept with her, it was quite possibly my rock bottom. There was no connection between us at all, no warmth, no passion, no desire. I had a vague recollection of her coming a number of times, naturally, before I admitted defeat and faked it. The next morning I moved into the spare room and we never spoke of it again. The more my business grew, the more I died a little on the inside. Five years living with a woman, without feeling for her, was a long time.
Until recently, only two women had peaked my curiosity, had made my cock stir in my pants, their faces conjuring images of my classic English beauty. A chance meeting with the girlfriend of my business rival’s son, while I was in Paris, some new movie actress with a kind of innocent beauty to her, she reminded me a lot of Lulu. Then tonight, this woman that had sat with me at the bar. My stomach had performed somersaults as I’d turned and laid eyes on her, for a second I’d truly believed I was looking
at Lulu, until I saw the hair and the brown eyes. She’d walked out of the bar, leaving her drink and book. The resemblance was uncanny, even the way she walked, with that sexy sway to her hips. Her voice was different too, she had an unusual accent, but talking to her had brought a spark of life back to me, as if I was with Lulu herself, but in an alternate universe. It wasn’t until I witnessed her reaction to the photograph that I carried in my wallet, that I realised there was a connection. That this Isabelle knew her, that maybe they were related.
When she started crying, all my worst fears were brought to life. She had known her, I was too late, I’d truly lost her. When this woman touched my face though, suddenly everything became clear. I’d felt some chemistry when she touched me earlier, but as I looked into her eyes and she cocked her head to look up at me, the way Lulu had all those years ago, no matter what accent she had, what hair or eye colouring, I just knew. The woman who had haunted me for all of that time was standing right in front of me and from the look on her face, I knew that she felt the same loss that I had for all the years that had followed. I didn’t have time to question what was going on, the minute I’d ripped that blonde wig off her head, all I cared about was kissing her, holding her in my arms, dragging her up to my suite to reconnect. Then she’d run from me. Until her, no one ran from me. Kissing her again had brought me back to life, the passion I still felt for her suddenly firing up the cold blood that had run through my veins for years, rendering it scorching as it tore through my body. Passion that made me feel, that made me hard. But then she’d run.
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