Chapter 94: 94

RAINA

I knew he was angry with me—of that, I was certain—but I prayed in my heart that he would realize I had done what was needed to be done for Nathan to release Faith. I could still feel the icy chill that ran through my veins when Nathan had attempted to lay hands on me. His hurtful words echoed in my head; he had told me that he couldn't wait anymore. I struggled against him with all the strength that was within me, but I knew that if Alex hadn't interrupted him at exactly the right moment, Nathan would have won. Even then, somehow Nathan had managed to slip away before Alex could completely show himself, leaving me to ponder where in the darkness he had disappeared to.

Later, desperate and trembling, I attempted to phone Alex, but the line was dead. Half of me was appallingly empty, half my soul ripped away. It wasn't the pain or the fear—it was the suffocating loneliness of being left behind when I most needed him. That was when Dom came around, his eyes weighed down with concern.

“We have to talk," he said gently, his voice firm and argumentative in a way that wasn't to be denied. I nodded absent mindedly, until I heard the gravity of his voice. The seriousness of the moment pressed in around me, and I knew something was going to be different.

“I went to the office.” His voice was steady and firm like he was about to drop a bomb. I blinked in anticipation ready to hear what he had to say.

Dom exhaled deeply and continued to explain, "There were questions at the board. They were demanding to know what was going on—where you were, why our stocks were falling." He paused, and continued.

“Apparently, there’s someone out there claiming to be Part of the Grahams, he says he’s our brother and he wants his own share from what our father left us. He came to the company to make a scene and oh well, you know, the board members didn’t take it quite likely.” His tone was low and thick with exhaustion and rage.

I sat, my mind reeling with memories of my grandmother’s stern words and the bitter truth about my father’s infidelity. In that instant, the rumors and whispers about the other brother—the product of that affair—flashed through my mind like dark specters. I could literally hear grandma's voice echoing in my ears, "Your father did cheat.” And now the product of his toil comes to haunt us.

Unable to dispel the storm raging within me, I asked hesitantly, "Do you have any stand in all this? Is there anything in the will about him, any mention that he is worthy of a share?" Dom's eyes flamed with remorse as he spoke, "I can try to stake something, but nothing in the will said a word about him. Not even when our grandfather passed away." His words echoed out agonized, affirming that our mother's condition for our father's actions had been absolute—no part of his betrayal would be legitimized.

I recalled those harsh words from grandma, the strict condition our mother had imposed on him, and my heart was filled with deep sadness with a touch of anger. "So, all this is just our cross to bear?" I muttered to myself rather than to him. Dom did not respond; his silence said it all. All I could do was sit there, wrestling with the fact that our family's honor had been stained by betrayal, and that the past had returned in the shape of a man who was never supposed to be.

I collapsed into a chair, the burden of the constant issues bearing down on me. "When does it ever stop?" I sighed, looking at Dom.

"Why do these issues keep occurring over and over again?" I begged, my head reeling with an urgent desire to be rid of them all. I needed Alex, he was my rock.

I realized that leaving alone would only go to upset everyone again. With trembling determination, I stood up to Dom and announced, "Can I go? I just... I need to clear my head for a bit."

His reply was swift and firm; "No." He shook his head slowly, irritation thick in his tone, and began, "Nathan is still out there—what if…" He didn't even manage to get the rest of the words out, leaving behind a terrible silence.

Before I could speak another word, Faith's soft voice carried down the corridor. "Raina, keep safe," she pleaded softly, a line of concern underlying her voice. I knew she meant well, so I slowed down unwillingly and went upstairs to the second floor.

Once inside my room, I picked up my phone and dialed the kids, my heart pained by the little empty voices that came over the phone. "Mommy, we miss you," Ava mumbled, and I promised, "I'll be with you soon, sweetheart," even though doubt gnawed at me.

I found out that Ava was bedridden with a fever, I asked if they needed me, Grandma's gentle response could be heard, "Since you’re alreadyt here, don't worry—just take care of why you're there. Ava will be alright."

I went on, "Has Alex called?"

Grandma soothed gently, "Yes, he has." That gentle reassurance was little to dispel the storm that raged within me as I sat in the darkening shadows of my own room, alone as can be in the relentless ocean of troubles.

I called him again, my fingers shaking as I held the receiver to my ear. The line rang. and rang. but there was no one. No familiar voice that would greet me, no conversation, no simple "I'm here."

Before, it didn’t matter how late the hour was; even if he was asleep, Alex would still pick up. But now, nothing. Just silence. Perhaps he was sleeping, I thought for a moment, after everything he'd done for me, but that idea could not dispel the increasing emptiness within me.

I whispered to myself, half-hopeful, "He's probably just sleeping." I held on to this hope against all odds, hoping against everything that it was true.

The second day arrived and with it more silence. The routine started again—no word from Alex. I tried to push past the creeping fear closing in on my chest and moved through the house, attempting to concentrate on something, anything, to keep my head from spinning.

But then I thought of something—perhaps Dominic's phone would be fine, perhaps I could call Alex on it. I picked up Dominic's phone and dialed in an urgent huff, hoping desperately to hear Alex's voice, to shatter the crushing quiet. The line came through, and my heart skipped a beat upon hearing him— only for it to immediately stop when he abruptly ended the call as soon as he heard my voice.

The cold click of disconnection felt like a physical blow. I looked on at Dom in dumbstricken dismay and for what reason would he treat me in such a way? What right did he have to shut me out like that.

My voice came up involuntarily, my anger spilling out. "He hung up on me, Dom," I said, my words stuck in my throat. "I have to go to him. I have to hear what his issue is." Dom's face turned icy, his eyes unreadable. He held up a calming hand and sighed before he spoke—his voice even, but with something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Do you really not know?”

He looked at me as though with pity of some sort, then shook his head in distaste. He flung his hair back, obviously fighting to contain his anger. "You left on your own, Raina. You went off to a man we've been trying to protect you from."

His words tightening my throat like shackles with every uttered syllable.

"You've got to let him have some time to sort himself out," he went on, his tone softer but no less resolute. "Plus he’s got a family as well." His words sliced—sliced more deeply than I could ever have conceived.

Time. Just to give him time. I knew that he was correct. I could feel the anger burning, engulfing me, but beneath that, a numbing pain of comprehension. I could understand why Alex was angry. I should not have just disappeared without speaking to him, without telling him what I was doing. But I couldn't shake off yet the feeling, needing him—he ought to be with me right now, talking to me, assuring me everything would be fine.

I wanted to reach out, to make him understand, but there it was—my confusion and my hurt, all knotted up in silence. Two weeks passed, then a month. It was intolerable. Time dragged on, twisted and distorted, so that everything I knew was gone. Every day that passed was a century of words left unsaid, questions left unwritten, and unspoken feelings. The sense of abandonment, of being cut off, killed me more than I ever believed possible.

I couldn't eat and was devastated in mood. Every evening, I used to end up sobbing pitifully, my tears a helpless witness to the anguish and loneliness that became constant companions. Not a response came back to all the message after message I sent him. His silence was a pall of darkness, and it deepened the void inside me.

I did get up one night to the point of being able to only obtain a glass of water. I stumbled into the living room and overheard Dom and Faith laughing together, the comfortable familiarity between them a cruel contrast to the turmoil that dominated my heart. I reflected on myself, at least their relationship was okay now—at least they had found some level of happiness. I began to step away, my mind racing with terror and grief, when the world was spinning around. Dizziness hit me, and I had no chance to respond before being overpowered by darkness.

When I woke, I saw them all in there—Alex as well, his hands both still clutching mine. His infuriating smile and maddeningly warm face hit me in the face. How was he able to smile so warmly after keeping me at bay for one whole month? I yanked my hands free from his, wounded and betrayed. "Dom, what's wrong with me?" My voice trembling with anguish and fury.

Alex's eyes temporarily softened, and he spoke in flat tones, "You had a fever, Raina. And it's because you're pregnant." His words hung there, a combination of alarm and an explanation I wasn't certain I wished to hear. My heart was racing with mixed feelings as I tried to take in his revelation, the warmth of his smile now somehow inappropriate in the lingering shadow of abandonment.