by Pamela Ann
Pausing, I stared at him with utter hopelessness. I knew everything in life technically was a gamble; one way or another, it was. However, sometimes it was worth it to fight for something that you believed in, and in the most maddening way, I still wanted to keep on fighting for him, for me.
“So, let me get this straight; you’re fine being engaged in multiple relationships with women under the same roof, but you won’t allow yourself to commit to one woman? Is it because your lifestyle is too good to give up? What? Make me understand.”
He gave me a face that stated he wasn’t going to budge with my request. “It’s not open for discussion, Isobel, and as for my life, what man wouldn’t want any of this? I mean, it’s any man’s dream, isn’t it? I could settle with this life.”
“But it’s a shallow life!”
“It’s the only one I can afford.”
For the love of everything that was holy, this wasn’t the time to talk in riddles!
“So that’s it, then?” I choked up as I tried to comprehend the situation. He basically gave me a glimpse of something fruitful and immediately withdrew it. It was the worst kind of teasing, a piece of a future one could never attain. “You and me, this is all it’s going to be, what will be, whatever that means anymore.”
“You deserve so much more, Isobel.”
I did. I knew deep in my heart I did, but my heart craved him, and my body yearned for him. Not any other man but him—Hugo Xavier—and he wasn’t going to allow anything to blossom between us.
The urge to cry was high, but at the same time, I knew he was trying to tell me something, something I couldn’t truly see, because I was basked in the haze of wanting, hankering for the one thing I couldn’t have.
“My heart is in pure agony. Do you know what that feels like? To have something that could be yours, but circumstances simply won’t allow it? How do I go on from here? Where do I pick up the pieces and begin my life again?”
It was torment, but through the years, I had learned how to portray strength even though I was fragile and broken inside. My father’s abuse had made me this way, and in some way, it was a good thing I had learned this method of survival. After all, this was the only way I could be in this room with Hugo without letting him see me truly fall apart.
Appearing as if he was having a hard time forming the words, he looked away before strolling towards the other side of the bed and taking a seat at the edge of the mattress with his head bent over.
“The only thing I can do is protect you, Isobel. You grew up in a volatile environment. You deserve happiness for the rest of your life.”
That wasn’t even considered breaking up, but it sure felt like it. I knew he wanted me, too. I knew, deep down, he was fighting this magnetic pull between us, that he, too, was experiencing this explosive chemistry each time we looked into each other’s eyes. Still, my love for him would be for nothing. No one would reap it, because he chose to protect us from it, from the kind of backlash it would cause.
He wished me happiness, which was great, but he didn’t want to be the man to make me happy. It was a bloody sick joke, really.
“Will the next few hours until you take me home be all I have of you?” I shakily asked.
“It’s all I can afford, ma belle.”
I nodded, understanding his stance, though I simply couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Maybe someday I could look back and truly see the bigger picture. For the meantime, if these next hours would be my last with him, then I would take them for what they were—my last moments with him.
“Just hold me, then. Hold me until it’s time for you to drive me home.”
Without another word, he pulled me into his arms, placing me in the crook of his neck, and held me like I was the most precious thing in his life. I might not truly know the truth behind his reasoning, but I knew somehow that his decision had come from a good place, that he was hurting, as well.
Hugo Xavier was an enigma. A man of so many means, yet he had secrets in his past that prevented him from having a future.
Whatever lay in our futures, to me, this wasn’t the end of it. For now, it should suffice, but it wasn’t over yet…
Chapter 14
Hugo
Sometimes there came a time in a man’s life when he had to make the grandest of sacrifices. It was an excruciating process that surely tested a man’s will, a man’s perseverance. It sometimes pushed him to the limit, merely wanting to bend him to the point of breaking. Isobel was a part of that expense. She was too costly, too precious, and too delicately important to even consider risking everything I had worked so hard for.
She deserved so much more—a bright future with a man who could cater to everything her heart desired. I, unfortunately, wasn’t that man. There was no point in denying it or to even give in for a moment and picture what it would be like to have a woman like her love me fully, freely.
To be free to do as I pleased wasn’t in the cards for me. Freedom was a foreign word I had once tasted. However, it was a dream I knew I could never have. This was the furthest I could take it. This was truly what I could afford to give her: a speck of space in time, a fond memory, but nothing more.
She meant too much to me, though I wouldn’t acknowledge it out loud. If I did, it would complicate things. She was already getting too attached, and I didn’t need her sabotaging everything. She might not ever know, but I was gifting her with happiness by keeping her at bay.
My world, despite being glamorous on the surface, was far from it. Money and influence also brought a dark side that had tarnished our family. It was a mistake that was done ages ago, but the wrath still remained, haunting and hurting as long as the Xavier continued to live.
I had long ago learned to accept my fate after I had paid handsomely to its effect.
It definitely taught me a lesson—that sometimes it was better to protect the ones you cared the most for instead of taking a chance, gambling for something you had no chance of winning. Sometimes, the best thing to do was accept losing a part of ourselves to ensure that no one got hurt in the end.
Isobel…
Imagining her with Damen or any other man made me feel violently ill, but I had to conquer the feeling, or I wouldn’t be able to let her go. Each passing second of holding her close, breathing as if the world weighed so heavily on her shoulders, made me second guess my decision. It was mad to even think of swaying, because I knew the risks were something I couldn’t afford. If the circumstances were different, maybe if I were a different man … The maybe list was endless, and wishful thinking was plainly heedless because there was nothing to be done. This was the way it was going to be for the rest of my life, and daydreaming for a future I simply couldn’t have was pointless.
Like I had said earlier on, I sure would if I could.
Belle enchanteresse, you forever will be, Isobel.
“Isobel,” I murmured softly in her ear, hoping to wake her. We had fallen asleep in each other’s arms without saying a word. It was as if we simply existed to cherish the time together, like a silent goodbye before parting for good.
It was an hour past noon, and the very damning thought of her leaving me was painful, but I knew it was the right thing to do. As agonizing as it was, we needed to get on and live our lives, separately.
“Isobel,” I tried again. This time, I nipped her earlobe, tempted to taste her, to feel her sheath me with her essence as I slowly nudged my way into her body. All night, I had fought the urge to take her again, but this time, I wanted to finish all the way. However, she and I were in such a state that, if we gave in, parting would be much more difficult to accomplish, if at all. Therefore, setting my cock’s needs aside was imperative for both our sakes. Denying myself when it came to Isobel was becoming a norm. Even so, each time I did, it was a tough battle.
“I don’t want to go…” She tightened her hold on my body. “I can’t leave you just yet.”
Mon Dieu! She was making this arduous for me.
T
he feel of her pliant body was so welcoming it was making me forget that I shouldn’t be entertaining sexual thoughts about her, but my cock was taking over the thinking, and I was about to lose control of any rational thought.
Grinding my teeth together, I took a long breath before I slowly started moving away from her. “I need to speak to Benoît.” It was an excuse. Of course it was. I had no need to see the head of my security with a hardened cock, but I knew I must use any excuse I had to get away from her. Anything.
Isobel’s beautiful, sleepy face gazed at me with half-lidded eyes, smiling angelically, while I felt something tug at my chest.
“Will you come back to bed after you’re done speaking to him?”
Yes. “No,” I said, feeling like a total brute for rejecting her. “I must see Arianne after speaking to Benoît.”
“Arianne?” she instantly woke up upon hearing her name. “You’re not going to have sex with her, are you?”
The only woman I wanted was the one in my bed…
“Would it bother you if I did, Isobel?” The question was meant to push her away, and I knew by the way she was looking at me now that I had done just that.
“My needs are of no importance to you, so why care what I think?” She shrugged before slipping out of bed, walking into the bathroom, and slamming the door.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the room, helpless to comfort her.
Pushing her away was the only way I could remain sane, the only way I could protect her.
One day, I might explain it to her. Someday, perhaps. But, as of this moment, she and I must endure begin kept apart.
Chapter 15
Isobel
Being with Hugo for less than twenty-four hours was taking its toll on me. It was an unmitigated form of heaven and hell, hours filled with drama, elation, humiliation, and resignation, stages upon stages of crucial highs and lows. At this point, I was wondering how I had the strength to function, let alone think.
Cooped up in the loo, I made use of my time by hunting for a spare toothbrush, which thankfully was conveniently located in one of the bottom drawers along with the feminine face washes and other essential, womanly toiletries. Washing my face of all the war paint from last night, I felt somehow refreshed without all the artificial garb on. I supposed there was no use of it now since I had somehow gotten what I came for, though I hadn’t bargained for this heavy heartache that seemed to strengthen by the second. Come to think of it, I was actually hoping I would come out of this experience in a totally opposite manner; nevertheless, I would never forget this. Hugo would always stay with me in my heart, in my mind. He would always be cherished and loved.
Sniffling¸ I gently combed my hair before using my fingers to pull it back, twisting it into a tight bun and tucking the ends of my hair to secure its hold. Dabbing on some moisturizer, I gently applied it before finally taking a moment to gather my strength to face him the moment I walked out the door so he could take me home.
My world might seem like it was falling apart, but I would get through this. Like most trying ordeals I had been forced to plow through thanks to my father, I would learn to live with this, too.
Scars, they were the medals we embellished on our hearts and souls. We either wore them with pride or let them weigh us down. It was up to the person whether they wanted to take in the experience and spin it to their own betterment or succumb to its threatening, rancorous existence.
Acceptance, when there was no other choice left, could be a hardship; but it was truly advantageous and could enable one to get through this. I knew all the essentials, yet the process alone made it absolutely daunting to think through.
“You’re made to survive this, Isobel. Just smile, even though it hurts. Smile until it won’t hurt anymore.” It was a mantra I always told myself when I was in doubt, when my persistence was running low, and I needed an extra boost of courage and optimism. I had to smile serving my mother her meal after my father beat her. I had to smile through the pain and threats my father had caused me so the onlookers—my friends and Damen, most especially—didn’t see through the cracks.
Smile. It was merely a word, simple and uncomplicated, but it had got me through the severest of times when everything was crumbling around me.
With that in mind, I exited the bathroom and fetched my purse off the bed then went to find Hugo, who I was assuming was either speaking to Benoît or Arianne. I hoped the latter wasn’t an available option, in all terms and purposes.
I knew the moment we resumed our old lives that he would eventually go back to her and to Chantel and Sherry, but for the mean time, I couldn’t help holding out the tiniest of hopes that he would reserve himself to only cater to me until he dropped me off back at my flat.
My thoughts rambled on as I strode into the living room, finding it empty, before going onward, heading towards the dining area where I finally found him, surprisingly having brunch on his own.
“Arianne is too busy to cater to your needs this morning, I take it?” My words were heavily laced with barb. I hadn’t fully forgiven him for injecting my morning with a sour taste in my mouth.
Stoically, he cleared his throat before getting up and pulling out the chair to his right. He waited until I had taken my seat before finally going back to his old post, appearing calm and composed.
“As for your jibe, give me a little credit, Isobel. I think we both know that, after the intimate conversation we had last night, the last thing I wish is to touch another woman so quickly” he crisply said as he collected his espresso cup and gradually sipped it before giving me a look that warranted my apology.
“You’re a tad sensitive this morning. It makes me wonder why.” I made a wry comment simply because I wasn’t feeling the idea of issuing an apology. There were still a lot of things that were rather hard to process, and it might seem childish, but I still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he’d had sex with Arianne instead of me, amongst other things.
“The last thing I want right now is to spar words with you, Isobel. Picking a fight right now won’t make anything better, trust me on that.” He stated with finality then poured me coffee without asking if I had wanted one or not before handing it to me, saying, “Cream and four cubes of sugar, just as you like it.”
What idiot could stay mad at him if he acted considerate and rather the adorable chap that he was at times? Knowing that he remembered how I liked my coffee was indicator enough that he had noticed quite a few things about me. And being aware of this fact made me somehow happy and cheery on the inside, though my exterior still appeared to be in bitch mode.
After thanking him for the cup of java, we both carried on like we used to during breakfast—him sifting through the news articles while I sometimes played word games on my phone or caught up with social media. Today, I resorted to solving a crossword puzzle about World War II instead of opting to check out what had happened with my friends and what they had gotten themselves into that led to Damen seeking me out in the wee hours of the morning.
After ten minutes of silence, Hugo decided to pay attention to me, giving me those intent, beautiful, scrutinizing eyes that seemed to see too much of me.
“I’m ready to leave whenever you are,” he finally said after a few minutes, gazing at me while deep in thought.
I was sure he was ready to leave so he could get on with dispatching me back to my world, forever eliminating me from his fast-paced, devil-may-care lifestyle. My emotions were running amuck, and the pain of losing him all over again was too crippling to fathom. I must endure it, however. I must or I would suffer with another blatant rejection from him. Besides, once again, he had left me with no other choice.
It was always up to him. He always had the power to choose and do as he pleased without consulting me. This alone should have left me running in the opposite direction, but I hadn’t. It had only made me wonder why I was willing to hand him all the power. Was it because it began this way, starting in such a peculiar dynamic that
we would never be normal? Either way, it was almost guaranteed that it influenced the balance between us one way or the other.
“I’m ready to go now. There’s no point in spending another minute with you.”
“So much for loving me,” he remarked snidely before briskly getting up from his chair and making his way towards the door.
In haste, I took hold of my purse then strolled behind him in a dignified manner. From his hurried pace, he was obviously ticked off. Well, what had he expected? More tears? Or should I beg for more time with him? Hadn’t I implored enough last night? My pleas had fallen on deaf ears, so acting like a total brute like he had just done moments ago was uncalled for.
Given that the both of us were not in the mood to deal with each other, I decided to keep ignoring him while I tended to my missed calls and unread text messages. There were more than a few from Damen, but I was acutely aware of Hugo’s movements as we strode across the hotel’s foyer before Benoît greeted us and kindly asked if his boss needed security with him. I wasn’t quite sure what Hugo said because it was in French, but whatever it was, his brash reply gained a grumble from his loyal employee.
When the limo arrived, I found myself comfortably seated in the back while Hugo and Benoît exchanged words. I couldn’t seem to grasp their conversation, yet it was obvious it wasn’t a friendly one. Subsequently, when Hugo joined me inside the car, his mood had taken another dive, way down to the deep end.
If the circumstances were different, I would have asked what was troubling him, but since he and I were on the fence, I kept on ignoring him, gluing my eyes to my phone screen, pretending to be engrossed with Claire’s message.
You’ve been MIA. If you don’t call or text me soon, I might have to ask for back up. Call me. Text me. Anything.
Sighing, I felt guilty for not leaving her a note stating that I was going to meet Hugo last night. I wasn’t necessarily hiding the fact; however, I wasn’t ready to be sat down and interrogated yet. I mean, she had been there and seen how I drastically obsessed over him by following updates on his life, so she would rightly demand the juicy details out of me.
