Chapter 38 #38

Chapter 38 #38
Chapter 38
~Dwayne~

Before dinner ended, I excused myself. My head was spinning badly, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a physical force. 

If I stayed at that table one more second, watching Dante's smug face, watching his hand possessively resting on Shailyn's stomach, I was going to lose it completely.

I made it to my room and sat down on the bed. Thinking

Six weeks pregnant.

The words kept repeating in my mind like a mantra.

Was it mine? 

I didn't know. I had no way of knowing. Not without a paternity test, and how the hell was I supposed to suggest that without revealing everything?

I needed to clear my head properly. I needed to think.

I made my way downstairs to the lounge, it was usually a quiet spot.

But when I got there, I found I wasn't alone.

Father was already there, his wheelchair positioned near the windows, a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand.

"Hi son," he said when he noticed me, his voice calm and measured.

"Hello father," I replied, moving further into the room.

"You've come to chill out here?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah," I said, settling into one of the leather armchairs. "I came to relax my head."

Father nodded slowly. "Well done, my boy. I've seen the effort you're putting in. The long hours, the dedication to your project."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"It's going to be competitive," he continued, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "But it's for the future of the company. Anything for it."

I nodded, not trusting myself to say more.

Father's expression softened. "Everything seems to be falling into place. I'm going to get an heir soon. I can't believe Dante is going to be a father soon. It is unbelievable."

The words made my jaw clench, but I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my expression neutral.

Father took another sip of his whiskey, then looked at me with renewed interest. "You know, maybe it's time for you to get married too, Dwayne. Give your mother and me more grandbabies to spoil."

I felt my stomach tighten at the suggestion.

"I could set you up," Father continued, warming to the idea. "I have several friends with daughters. Beautiful girls, accomplished, from good families. Any one of them would make an excellent wife for you."

"No," I said, the word coming out sharper than I'd intended.

Father's eyebrows rose slightly. "No?"

I took a breath, forcing myself to speak more calmly. "Father, I have someone I'm interested in. And very soon, she'll become mine. I'm just waiting for the perfect time to ask her."

That seemed to satisfy him. A smile spread across his face, genuine pleasure lighting up his features. "Is that so? Well, that's wonderful news, son. Absolutely wonderful."

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Don't take too much time though," Father advised, reaching over to pat me on the back. "When you find the right woman, you need to act. Don't let her slip away."

"I won't," I promised.

Father wheeled himself toward the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at me. "I'm proud of you, Dwayne. For coming back. For stepping up. For being the man I always knew you could be."

"Thank you, Father," I managed, my throat suddenly tight.

Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the lounge with my thoughts.

I stayed in the armchair, staring out at the dark gardens beyond the windows. The woman I'd just told my father about. The woman I was interested in, the woman who would become mine.

Shailyn.

It had always been Shailyn, from the moment I'd touched her at that mask party, even before I knew who she was. Something about her had called to me, had made me feel things I'd never felt before.

And now that I knew who she was, now that I understood the connection between us, I wanted her even more.

Just then, I saw her. Through the glass windows that separated the lounge from the hallway, I could see Shailyn walking past. She must have been heading somewhere, maybe back to her room, maybe to get something to drink or eat.

I looked at her so intensely, unable to tear my eyes away.

God, she was beautiful. Even from this distance, even through the glass, she took my breath away. Her body was amazing, curves in all the right places, moving with a grace that seemed effortless. She was smart and intelligent, her mind one of the sharpest I'd ever encountered, brilliant in ways that Dante could never appreciate or deserve.

My eyes traveled over her, drinking in every detail. I looked down to her lips, so rosy and small, just like her. Delicate and perfect. I remembered how they'd felt against mine, how they'd tasted, sweet and desperate and perfect.

Then I looked down to her stomach, still flat beneath the dress she was wearing, showing no sign yet of the life growing inside her. She was carrying a baby. A baby that could possibly be mine or my brother's.

The thought made my chest ache with a complicated mixture of hope and fear and longing.

Just when I was lost in these thoughts, the door to the lounge opened and she came inside. She came in humming and twirling. And then she saw me suddenly 

"Oh!" Her face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I thought... the light is dim and I just..."

"It's okay," I assured her. 

She moved further into the room, her posture awkward, uncertain. "I'm sorry.”

"Don't worry about it," I said, gesturing to the chair across from me. "Would you like to sit?"

She hesitated, and I could see the conflict in her eyes. She didn't know me well. 

"You know I don't bite," I told her gently, offering a small smile.

"Yes, I know," she said, finally moving to sit down in the chair. "It's just awkward that I don't know anything about you. Everyone keeps talking about how you've been away for five years, how you just came back, but I don't remember any of that. I don't remember you being gone. I don't remember you coming back."

"It's fine," I said, trying to put her at ease. "The amnesia isn't your fault. Give yourself time. The memories might come back."

"Maybe," she said quietly, her hands folded in her lap.

We sat in silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable quiet that felt natural rather than forced. 

"Congratulations on the baby," I said finally. 

Her face lit up immediately, a genuine smile spreading across her features. "Thank you."

God, she was so beautiful when she smiled like that. So open and happy and full of life.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. "I noticed you weren't eating much at dinner."

"Morning sickness," she explained, her hand moving unconsciously to her stomach. "Or I guess evening sickness in this case. The nausea comes and goes. It's been rough."

"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. "That must be difficult."

"It is," she admitted. "But the doctor says it's normal. That it should get better after the first trimester."

"That's good," I said, though my mind was racing. 

Shailyn shifted in her chair, preparing to leave. "I have some things to do. I should probably get going."

"Of course," I said, not wanting to keep her but also not wanting her to leave.

She stood up, smoothing down her dress. "Bye, Dwayne. Have a pleasant night."

"You too," I said, watching as she moved toward the door.

I looked at her figure as she left. 

Whether the baby is Dante's or mine, I thought, my jaw setting with determination, I'll stop at nothing. Absolutely nothing to get her. Because she's mine. I've claimed her since the day we had that mind-blowing sex at the mask party.

But I'll be gentle. I'll be patient. I'll wait for the right moment to reveal the truth, to show her who I really am, to make her understand what we shared that night.

I'll do anything for her.

Simply because...

I love her.