Rich Oaks

I’m in the kitchen, chatting with my aunt over the phone as I cook dinner. The smell of the sauce I’m simmering wraps around me. We’ve just gotten back to the penthouse. Duke is just a glance away on the terrace, his silhouette outlined by the city lights, engrossed in his phone call.

‘This time it’s different. I’m doing this for me. It’s not about anyone else. I want to believe I can have a baby, like so many women do. If this doesn’t work out… well, then I’m done. No more chasing dreams of babies.’

‘Aisling, you’re going to be fine,’ she says, her voice a warm blanket over my worries. “Remember the changes you’ve made, the healthier choices. They won’t go unnoticed by your body.’

There’s a brief pause, letting the unsaid words hang between us. She understands, she always does.

‘You will make it happen, Aisling. Just believe.’ Her voice comes through strong and clear.

‘I took a break, right? I stayed off the meds, ate healthy, and worked out like crazy. What haven’t I done?’ I say, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice.

‘This is going to work. I feel it,’ she says with a confidence that I wish I could feel.

“If it doesn’t succeed, well…’ My voice falters, a mix of acceptance and hope. ‘I won’t push my body any further. This is it.’

The air seems to thicken with unspoken emotions. ‘You’re brave, Aisling. And taking that break, allowing your body to reset, that might just make all the difference. Where’s Duke?’ she suddenly asks.

‘He’s out on the terrace, phone glued to his ear. Do you need to talk to him?’ I ask, stirring the sauce absentmindedly.

‘No, let him be. When’s he heading out from Rich Oaks?’

‘Tomorrow morning,’ I reply, a bit distracted.

‘And you? You’ll be alone till Elena gets there this weekend. You sure you’re okay with that?’

‘Yeah, I’ll manage,’ I say.

‘Aisling, I know you. Your mind might start racing, worrying about the what-ifs.’

‘Aunty, I’ve got a plan. Movies. Lots and lots of movies. They’ve been my sanity anchor lately.’

‘That’s good, but remember, things are moving forward now. You might feel a bit off.’

‘I’m braced for it, Aunty. Baby or not, I’m learning to accept myself, as I am.’

Her voice turns gentle, ‘I have a really good feeling this time. You gave your body the break it needed. It should help.’

‘We’ll see,’ I say.

‘I should go, sweetheart. I need to start dinner too.’

‘Thanks for the call, Aunty. It means a lot.’

‘Talk to you tomorrow. Oh, and say hi to Duke for me.’

‘Will do. Promise me you’ll check on me tomorrow?’ My voice is but a whisper, a reflection of the vulnerability I rarely show.

A gentle chuckle from her end. ‘Always, my dear.’

I steal a glance at Duke, who’s leaning against the terrace railing, the picture of calm. I turn down the heat on the stove and grab two wine glasses, filling them with grape wine. I’m making an effort to lift my spirits, all for the baby I so earnestly long for. This is my last chance, and I need to set aside all my worries and bitterness to make this work.

Carrying them outside, I approach him.

‘How’s it going?’ I ask.

‘Great,’ he answers, his smile reaching his eyes.

‘Dinner’s almost ready. The sauce is simmering away,’ I tell him.

‘You cooked? We could’ve just eaten out,’ he says, sounding genuinely surprised.

‘I wanted to do something nice for you,’ I respond, feeling a warmth spread in my chest.

‘Thought you could use some wine,’ I say softly, offering him a glass.

‘Thanks,’ he says, taking it from me.

He looks at me, and I can see his eyes are full of things he wants to say. ‘I spoke to Aunt earlier,’ I start, ‘She sends her regards.’ It’s a simple conversation, but beneath the surface, tension pulses like a second heartbeat.

I lean against the railing next to him, taking a sip of wine and closing my eyes, feeling the weight of the tension between us. A heavy silence stretches out for a long, awkward minute.

‘So, do you want to talk tonight?’ He breaks the silence, his voice hesitant.

I shake my head, eyes still closed, not ready to confront him or the hurt his betrayal caused.

‘Aisling, listen, I know I messed up. I hurt you, and it’s killing me. But please, let me explain. It’s not what you think,’ he pleads earnestly.

I raise my hand, a silent plea for him to stop. ‘Enough, Duke.’

‘When can we talk about this, Aisling?’ His voice is full of a desperate need to be heard.

‘Not now, maybe never. Why do you always have to bring this up every time I’m near you?’ I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

‘Because I can see it in your eyes, Aisling. You don’t look at me the same. Can’t you just hear me out?’ His voice cracks with emotion.

‘I don’t want to know, Duke. I can’t handle it right now,’ I reply, feeling the weight of my vulnerability.

‘How will you ever understand the truth if you won’t listen?’ he asks, a hint of frustration in his tone.

‘I don’t want your ‘truth,” I say, my voice firm.

‘Duke, I can’t do this right now,’ I say, tears threatening to spill.

‘I didn’t sleep with her, Aisling. That’s the truth I need you to know,’ he says, his voice earnest.

‘Duke, how can I even believe that? Just listen to what you’re saying,’ I snap, finally looking at him, and the tears I’ve been holding back start to fall.

‘I didn’t do it. You have to believe me,’ he insists, his voice a mix of desperation and sincerity.

‘Duke, just stop. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what you do anymore. Just do your thing, and I’ll do mine. I was foolish to think you were any different,’ I say, letting the tears freely flow down my cheeks.

‘Aisling, please…’ His voice trails off, filled with a mix of regret and sorrow.

He steps closer, trying to bridge the gap between us. ‘Aisling, I swear, I didn’t touch Simone. I would never betray you like that.’

‘Enough!’ I shout, hands over my ears, retreating into the safety of the penthouse.

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture that used to endear him to me but now only fuels my anger. ‘That’s the truth, Aisling. Call her if you don’t believe me!’

I whirl around, disbelief painting my face. “Call who?”

‘Simone. You know how to reach her,’ he says, a defiant edge to his voice.

I flinch. The very suggestion feels like a slap. ‘And you think that’ll make things better? That it’ll erase everything?’

My heart races as he hesitates. There’s a flicker in his eyes, and then he takes a deep breath. ‘Aisling, I never wanted to hurt you. But what I did… it was for us. To save what we have.’

‘The audacity, Duke! Throwing her name around like it’s nothing. What am I supposed to do with her number?’

‘She’s not a secret, Aisling. I’m not hiding her. She’s not my girlfriend. Just hear me out, please!’

There’s a choke in my throat, words tangled in the sharp edges of betrayal. ‘For us? You think having a child with another woman is ‘for us’?”

He stops dead, his face a mask of shock. ‘You know?’

‘Did you think I wouldn’t replace out?’ Tears stream down my face, unchecked.

His eyes search mine, pleading for understanding. ‘I felt cornered. I didn’t know how to make things right between us. I thought…’

‘We made vows, Duke. I thought we were in this together,’ I whisper, my heart shattering.

‘Aisling, hurting you is the last thing I want.’

‘Can you even hear yourself?’I interrupt, my voice shaking. The room is spinning, and every piece of furniture seems to mock our shattered relationship. My mind races, grasping at the whirlwind of emotions threatening to drown me.

‘But Aisling,’ he protests, desperation creeping into his voice, ‘I didn’t initiate it. I was pushed into it.’

Tears form at the corner of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. The warmth of this penthouse, once cherished, is now gone. My gaze sweeps the room, settling on our wedding photo. Memories flood in, blurring the line between the happiness of the past and the pain of the present.

‘I just wanted to give us a chance, Aisling,’ he continues. ‘A chance to be a family, to replace happiness again.’

“Stop lying,” I whisper.

‘They pushed her on me. It wasn’t planned. I barely know her, Aisling.’

‘Stop lying!’ I scream, my patience snapping.

‘It was supposed to save our marriage, believe me,’ he blurts out.

‘Save our marriage? How, Duke?’

He moves closer, his voice heavy with regret. ‘The pressure was too much. Everyone wanted an heir, and I was lost. Listening to my mom was the biggest mistake.’

‘What did she do?’ My voice is barely a whisper, dreading the answer.

‘They took me to see a soothsayer, a psychic,’ he says, and I can hardly believe my ears.

‘They took… you to see a what?’ My voice barely contains the shock and disbelief. The mere idea of a psychic is one thing, but a soothsayer? It’s almost comical if the situation weren’t so dire.

Duke takes a shaky breath, looking every bit the cornered man. ‘My mother thought… she believed it would help. She insisted.’

‘And?’ I urge, my tone impatient.

The next words from his lips catch me entirely off guard. ‘She said there was a curse on your family. A fertility curse.’

I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. The absurdity of it all almost makes me laugh, but the hurt and disbelief stop it short. A curse? Really?

‘She said you’d never have a baby, that there’s a curse on your family’s fertility,’ he murmurs, so quietly I almost don’t catch it.

I stand there, frozen. ‘What?’

‘They wanted Simone to have a baby for us, for you to adopt it later.’

‘What?’ The words hit me like a physical blow, my heart pounding in shock and disbelief.

‘I didn’t know how to tell you. But I swear, I never slept with her. We went for IVF. I just wanted it over with.’

‘You believed the curse?’ The astonishment is clear in my voice, edged with hurt. ‘So much so that you decided to go to IVF with Simone?’

Duke hesitates, then nods. ‘It’s why we went to Shelton, but Aisling, nothing happened between us there. I swear.’

I’m spiraling, grappling with the information overload, trying to digest his words. The very thought that he took such drastic steps based on superstition stings, piercing deeper than any betrayal. I imagine Duke and Simone, in Shelton, trying to make a baby, and my stomach churns.

‘Why did you take her to Shelton?’ The question comes out desperate, tinged with disbelief. I need more answers.

He hesitates, his fear palpable. ‘It was… to make me sleep with her,’ he admits, panic edging his voice.

‘Really?’ I whisper, each word a struggle, as the truth sinks in, heavy and unbearable.

In that instant, it’s like my whole world tilts. I crumble onto the sofa, the shock hitting me hard.

‘But I didn’t do anything with her,’ Duke rushes to reassure me.

‘And you thought I couldn’t give you a child because of some ancient family curse?’ I whisper, my voice trembling, raw emotion evident.

He reaches out, trying to bridge the chasm between us. ‘I was desperate, Aisling. I just… wanted us to be a family. I know I messed up. I’m so sorry.’

I look at him, disbelief mixing with a desperate attempt to stay composed. My heart is a chaotic mess. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers, but it’s like a drop in an ocean of pain.

The silence thickens, pressing down on me as I process everything. I can feel the weight of Duke’s gaze, expecting a response, some kind of reaction. But the words catch in my throat, a jumble of emotions threatening to overflow.

‘Why are we even doing this? What’s the point?’ I ask, sadness and anger swirling inside me.

‘Aisling…’

‘I’m not going through with this anymore,’ I state firmly, my decision clear.

‘Aisling…’

‘Do you have any idea how much it hurts just to look at you?’ My voice breaks, the pain too raw. I stand up, grabbing my navy blazer from the doorway.

‘This is pointless,’ I mutter, fighting back tears.

‘Aisling, please don’t leave,’ he pleads, his voice filled with desperation.

But I can’t stay. ‘I can’t be here with you, Duke. I just can’t.’

I walk away, each step heavy with the weight of his betrayal.

In the kitchen, I turn off the stove, the mundane task feeling surreal in the midst of my shattered world.

Suddenly, something in Duke snaps. His wine glass slams down on the table with such force, his anger clear as day.

‘Why won’t you let me explain, Aisling?’ he shouts.

‘Explain what?’ I retort, struggling to maintain my cool.

‘Why are you walking away? We’re not done here,’ he insists, his voice booming.

‘I can’t listen to this. I need some air, and don’t you dare follow me,’ I say, desperate for space.

‘Aisling, why can’t we face this together? I felt cornered, everyone was pressuring me, and they all thought it was the right thing,’ he pleads, his voice laced with desperation.

I halt in my tracks, shocked. ‘Who’s ‘everyone’?’

‘My family,’ he answers.

“Who?”

He opens his mouth and shuts it again.

‘Even your grandmother?’ My voice shakes as I ask.

He nods.

I feel like I’ve been punched so hard in the gut. My hand flies to my chest as I stagger backward.

‘And I can tell you why she supported it,’ he tries to reassure me, but his words are just noise.

My heart is racing, pounding against my ribcage. I scramble for my car keys. ‘Duke, please, just go. We can’t be in the same place tonight.’

Duke’s steps are heavy as he moves towards me, his eyes intense. ‘Aisling…’

‘Duke, just go. Please,’ I beg, feeling overwhelmed.

‘Why won’t you listen to me?’ His voice is full of frustration.

‘I just can’t do this anymore,’ I whisper, feeling drained.

He’s stern now. ‘If you walk out now, I won’t bring this up again. Ever. I’ve tried to explain, but you won’t hear me out.’

‘Then don’t,’ I say, my voice empty.

‘Fine,’ he concedes, defeat lacing his words.

‘I’m calling off the IVF. If you believe I’m cursed, there’s no point,’ I declare, moving towards the door.

“Aisling!” he calls after me

I stop, fighting back tears. ‘I thought I could trust you. But it was you all along.’

As I open the door, my tears are on the brink of spilling.

‘You’re just going to leave me here?’ His voice cracks.

‘I don’t want to see you here when I get back. We’re done, Duke,’ I say, the words choking me.

With one last, lingering glance, I step out, leaving behind not just our penthouse, but a chapter of our shared life Duke stands there, paralyzed by a mix of shock and pain, as I leave, slamming the door behind me. The silence that follows is deafening. The trust we had is shattered.

Sitting in a park, just a mile from the penthouse, the cool night air gently touches my tear-stained face as I speak quietly on the phone with my mom.

‘Mom, is it really true? Are we… cursed?’ My voice shakes as I ask.

‘No, Aisling, that’s not true,’ she responds, her tone both strong and soothing.

‘I need to know, Mom. The real truth,’ I plead, desperate for clarity.

‘There’s no curse, Aisling. I’ve never heard of anything like that in our family. This is the first I’m hearing of it,’ she reassures me.

‘Then why is having a baby so hard for me? Why?’ I’m searching for answers, trying to piece together my shattered understanding.

‘Honey, I don’t have all the answers. We leave that in God’s hands. Your time will come,’ she says, her voice a balm to my aching heart.

‘I don’t think I can keep going like this.”

‘Aisling…’ she starts, but I cut her off.

‘I can’t do the IVF. I just can’t,’ I say, feeling utterly defeated.

‘Aisling, you can’t give up now,’ she urges me.

‘Why should I keep trying? Tell me, Mom,’ I ask, in a whisper of desperation.

‘I’m coming to you. I’ll be on the first flight to Rich Oaks tomorrow. Is Duke still there?’ she asks, worry clear in her voice.

‘I don’t know, Mom,’ I admit, feeling adrift.

‘And Bianca? Where is she?’ she inquires further.

‘She’s at her place,’ I tell her.

‘You shouldn’t be alone tonight,’ she insists.

‘I’m okay, Mom. I don’t need anyone,’ I say, trying to sound stronger than I feel.

‘Alright. I’ll see you in the morning,’ she promises, and we end the call.

It’s just half an hour to midnight when I get back to the penthouse. The quietness hits me hard, mirroring the hollowness inside me. I scan the place, looking for any hint that Duke might still be here. He’s not. But there’s a note, left by the fridge in the kitchen.

I pause, my hands shaking slightly as I pick up the note. Unfolding it, Duke’s familiar scrawl meets my eyes:

‘Aisling, I hope, in time, you’ll understand and maybe even forgive. Please talk to Leonard about everything.’

Duke.’

The simplicity of his words weighs heavy, like a final echo of what we once had.

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