“Whose idea was it?” Leilani asks. “Was this really Rebecca’s idea, or did Waylen make her invite me?”
Robert looks down at his shoes and says, “Actually, it was Mr. Francis Bamford’s idea.”
“What?” Leilani asks.
“The old Mr. Bamford loves Miss Arlington,” Robert explains. “He heard that she didn’t have many friends here, and he ordered Waylen to do everything in his power to make her happy.”
“You make Rebecca sound like Francis’ prized pet,” Leilani whispers. “If she’s a pet, what does that make me—a toy?”
Robert blushes but continues down the hall. Leilani reaches out and grabs his elbow, forcing him to stop. With a sigh, he turns around and nods his head in Rebecca’s direction—she’s several feet in front of them and doesn’t seem to realize that they’ve stopped.
“Go ahead, Rebecca,” Leilani calls. “I think I dropped an earring, and Robert said he’d help me find it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want more help, Leilani?” Rebecca asks.
“Of course,” Leilani says. “I wouldn’t want to keep Waylen waiting.”
Rebecca nods, and her slim figure disappears down the hallway. Leilani turns to Robert and gives the butler a searching look. She doesn’t think he’d lie to her about Francis’ wishes, but he’s tricked her before.
“What else do you want me to say, Miss Peters?” Robert asks. “You know how Francis Bamford is.”
Leilani rubs her temples. She knows that Francis is a cold, unfeeling man. He uses his family for personal gain when he can, but most of the time, he sees them as liabilities. He doesn’t love Waylen as a grandson—he just wants to control him and make him a respectable heir to the family fortune.
But it still hurts that he’s showing such preferential treatment to Rebecca. When I was with Waylen, Francis let me suffer endless humiliating tortures, she thinks. Everyone in the house was allowed to kick me around: Waylen, Florence, even servants. What makes Rebecca so special? Obviously, she’s beautiful and wealthy and graceful, but I used to be that way, too.
She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. It doesn’t do me any good to dwell on the past, she thinks. Besides, it’s probably for the best that Francis doesn’t like me. If I survive this birth, I can live the rest of my life free from his schemes and manipulations.
She walks down the hall, and Robert chases after her. As they wait for the elevator, he opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but he quickly closes it again. She rubs her stomach and sighs.
Waylen is sitting alone at his favorite table on the patio—Rebecca is nowhere in sight. There are three chairs cl.u.s.tered around the small table, and Leilani wonders which one she’s supposed to sit in. Waylen catches her staring and shoots an icy glare across the patio.
She starts to cross the cobblestone ground, but the trees begin to spin, and little black dots appear in her vision. She closes her eyes and sees the same patio on a colder day. Waylen is sitting in the same spot, but his eyes are fire instead of ice. His voice is low and hoarse as he says, “If anyone hurts my loved one, they’re dead.”
She blinks and shakes her head. The memory feels as real as this current moment on the patio, but everything has changed. She steadies herself and wonders why it’s coming back to her now. Is it possible to regain memories the toxin made her lose?
“Well, Waylen, I have to say I’m a bit disappointed,” she says. “Cherry trees, lunch outside, I hoped you’d be a bit more original with Rebecca. But according to her, you’ve learned how to become an excellent boyfriend.”
Waylen’s eyes flash, and his jaw clenches, but he stands and pulls her chair out for her. She sits down and shakes the cherry petals from her napkin before draping it across her lap.
“Did your grandfather arrange it all?” she asks. “The Francis Bamford method to woo a respectable wife? Will you propose to Rebecca the same way you proposed to me?”
“Are you jealous?” Waylen asks.
Leilani laughs and shakes her head, “I just want to know why you asked me here. Are you trying to prove something? Do you want everyone to think you’re generous and modern because you can be friends with your ex-wife? Or were you hoping to play Rebecca and me against each other?”
“If you come back, I’ll give you whatever you want,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “Including me.”
He grabs her hand across the table and squeezes it hard. Her heart thuds in her chest, and her eyes fill with tears. For a moment, she imagines saying yes. But then she pulls her hand away.
“There are no second chances,” she whispers.
He shrugs as if nothing has happened and says, “Well, then, my reasons are none of your business. If you want to stay and have lunch, you’re welcome, but no one is forcing you to be here.”
“Of course, it’s not my business, but I’m curious,” she says. “Indulge me and explain why you want to have lunch with me.”
“You’ve already guessed it,” Waylen says. “I’m showing off.”
He plucks a fallen flower of the tablecloth and crushes it between his fingers before tossing the twisted petals onto the ground. Leilani checks over her shoulder for Rebecca and then leans back in her chair.
“So, is that why she wants to be friends with me?” Leilani asks. “Did you put her up to it?”
Waylen smirks, “I didn’t. Only she can tell you why she wants to be friends.”
They’re all crazy, Leilani thinks. Maybe Waylen and Rebecca can pretend they don’t care that I’m his ex-wife, but that’s insane. This whole thing is too weird.
“I don’t know where Rebecca is, but I have to leave,” she says. “Give Rebecca my apologies, please.”
As she stands to leave, she almost collides with a tall, gangly waiter. The man’s face is beet red, and his eyes are wide with fear. He catches his breath and points at the entrance to the restaurant.
“Miss Arlington needs help,” he pants.
Waylen jumps out of his chair and runs toward the restaurant’s kitchen. Leilani follows, weaving between tables and chairs. A crowd of waiters and chefs is cl.u.s.tered around Rebecca in the large kitchen. Rebecca sits on the black and white checked floor, clutching her ankle with her hands. Her face is contorted with pain.
The hotel doctor leans over her and takes a bag of ice off her ankle. He pokes and probes with his fingers, and Rebecca groans. The doctor frowns and gestures for some servants to lift her off the floor.
“It’s badly swollen,” the doctor says. “I’m worried it could be a comminuted fracture. She should go to the hospital and have proper X-rays.”
Waylen nods, and Robert barks orders into his phone. The crowd shifts, and Rebecca and Leilani make eye contact. Rebecca’s eyes narrow and her lip curls, but the expression disappears in an instant.
Waylen pushes everyone aside and takes Rebecca in his arms. He picks her up bridal style, and she buries her face in his chest. Leilani feels her face get hot, and she’s glad that Rebecca can’t see her. Waylen and Rebecca are halfway across the kitchen when Rebecca lifts her head.
“Leilani, would you mind coming to the hospital with us?” she asks.
“Of course not,” Leilani says. “Just let me know what you need.”
“Then hurry up,” Waylen growls.
Together the three of them race through the lobby out to the hotel gates. A black RV is waiting for them with its engine idling. Waylen carries Rebecca up the stairs and puts her on a velvet sofa. He sits down next to her and cradles her head in his lap. Leilani sits on the opposite sofa and looks out the window, trying to give them privacy.
“Thanks for coming, Leilani,” Rebecca whispers. “You’re a good friend.”
The RV pulls into the emergency entrance at the hospital, and Waylen carries Rebecca through the emergency room up to the orthopedics suite. A team of doctors is already waiting with a wheelchair. Waylen lowers Rebecca into the chair, and the doctor’s wheel her away to take x-rays.
Leilani stands outside the x-ray room door, wondering why she came to the hospital in the first place. She’s about to leave when one of the doctors comes out.
“It’s not terribly severe,” the doctor announces. “We’re going to put a cast on it and keep her here for observation and physical therapy.”
“I’m glad Rebecca will be okay,” Leilani says. “I think I’ll go now.”
Waylen stares at her from across the waiting room, and she shivers. With a sudden movement, he stands and crosses the room. He reaches out and grabs her bruised wrist.
“What are you doing?” she asks. “Let go of me.”
Waylen smirks and leads her down a long hallway, deeper into the hospital.
Waylen holds her wrist with an iron grip. She has no choice but to walk by his side as he leads her toward the maternity wing. Her heart thuds in her chest, and her forehead prickles with sweat as they pass the DNA lab.
Is he going to make me get another test? She wonders. Or worse—will he try to make me get an abortion as he did with Leonie? Maybe now that he has Rebecca, he doesn’t care about our child anymore. She puts her free hand, protectively across her belly.
“Are you taking me for another test?” she asks.
Waylen lets go of her wrist and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, “No more DNA tests. I just want to see how my baby is doing.”
Leilani takes a deep breath, and tears flood her eyes. He still loves the baby, she thinks. He wants to see our child—how can I refuse? She nods and steps away from him, trying to hide her tears. He gives her a moment before leading her into an examination room.
A female doctor with a short brown bob is preparing the examination room. She stops and looks Waylen up and down before returning to her work. Leilani looks sideways at Waylen and sees his smirk.
Waylen helps Leilani up onto the table. The paper crinkles and crackles as she lies down on her back. Suddenly, she sits upright. She knows she’ll need to show her stomach to the doctor, but she’s wearing a dress that zips down the side. There’s no way to bare her stomach without revealing her underwear.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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