Chapter 79 Celebrity Wedding

Chapter 79 Celebrity Wedding
Purple’s POV:

Once, when I was fourteen, I walked into the kitchen late at night and spotted my mom sitting on the kitchen island with a glass of wine in her hand. She might have been crying, but she told me I was mistaken.

We talked a little that night, and it led to me asking her what love was. She dropped her glass and looked me straight in the eyes. “Remember how you love staying out in the rain?” I nodded.

“Then, after an hour in the rain, you end up sick, right?” I didn’t know where she was going with all those questions, but I guess that must have been her way of explaining love to her fourteen-year-old daughter.

“Everyone tells you playing in the rain will make you sick. You also know it too well, but because you love the rain… you play anyway.”

My brows furrowed because I was trying to understand whatever it was she was saying. When I asked my dad this same question, he told me love had no definition but could be felt, but my mom on the other hand was giving me a very long definition of love.

“Finally, what is love?”

“Love is like when the heart wants something even when it knows it’s bad for its health.”

Then I asked if she loved my father, and she told me yes—and that’s why she needed a therapist.

According to my mom’s definition of love, Harry was unhealthy for me, and I might need a therapist, too.

“Are you there?” Harry’s voice snapped me from my thoughts. I flipped on the bed and looked at the picture frame on my bedside table; it was one of me and Mom… she had placed it there.

“When are you leaving for Bernoi?” I forgot what we were talking about, so it was safer to switch the topics.

“In two days. It’s pretty close to St. Naman, you know…” he let me know, and I chuckled, because my mom would die before she let me leave for Bernoi.

“I can’t…”

“I know,” he replied with a sigh. There was a knock on the door; I looked up to find Paul standing at the entrance with a tray of food in hand.

“Let’s talk later.” I didn’t wait for Harry’s response and ended the call. I sat up on the bed as Paul walked in, placed the food on the reading table, pulled the chair closer to the bed, and sat facing me. Here came the lecture.

“I don’t mind you talking about your dad,” he started, going straight to the point as he always does. “In fact, I want to hear about him right now. You could tell me everything about him you wish to tell people.”

If I were eight, I would have fallen for this, but I wasn’t eight and didn’t need coercing. “Me and my mom will be fine,” I assured him, “and I won’t make your wife cry again.”

He let out a sigh of relief, and when I frowned, he laughed. “I came here to give you a little talk about fixing stuff with your mom, but I have nothing to say because I don’t know exactly why you don’t like her…”

“I love my mom!” I hissed in disbelief; it was bold of him to assume I didn’t love her.

“Are you sure you do? She literally has to beg you to spend time with her, and less than twenty-four hours here, you already have her crying… that doesn’t seem like love to me, I don’t know…” He shrugged sarcastically, and I stared at him blankly because I couldn’t even refute that. He smiled softly and nudged the food on the table. “You can choose to eat here quietly and return to your… phone call.”

“Or, you could go find your mom so you could both eat together. She hasn’t had anything since morning and won’t listen to me.” He stood up and walked to the door, stopped in his tracks, and turned to look at me.

“Remember, don’t make my wife cry.”

Of course, everything else could go to hell if it meant his wife was happy. I could call Harry back and we could talk all day, but Paul’s words had gotten to me, so I carried the food tray out of the room to the dining table.

A maid was already packing the untouched food. “Hey, let it be.”

“Madam asked us to pack it up,” she stated, attempting to continue.

“Don’t pack the food, I will do that myself.”

She looked at me for a while, then nodded; she decided I wasn’t worth the headache, so she stopped and left.

I took the opposite stairs that led to Mom’s bedroom. When I got there, I knocked and waited, but there was no response.

I knocked again. “Paul, just come in,” Mother’s annoyed tone called out from inside. Why would she think it was Paul? It’s not like he needs to knock to enter his own bedroom.

When she looked up from her iPad and saw me, her eyes lit up and she dropped it on the bed. “Is everything okay?” This was my mom; after every argument, she behaves like nothing happened and we were totally cool.

“I am starving,” I complained, and she climbed off her bed. Her bedroom was as big as the shared house I lived in; I once went into her walk-in closet, and it was everything a woman like my mom deserved. But I still wished she would have mourned my dad for even a year before getting together with Paul.

“I will make you a plate.”

“Let’s eat together,” I suggested. She nodded excitedly and clung to my arm as we both walked downstairs.

“What were you doing just now?” When I walked in, she was busy on her iPad, and I knew my Mom didn’t watch movies or read novels.

“Huh?” She looked at me with a lost expression, like my question made no sense. “Oh… I, uh… I was shopping online.” My mom doesn’t stutter, so that’s how I knew she was lying, but I decided to let it go so we could have a peaceful meal.

When we got to the table and I made us both a plate, we ate silently. My gaze moved to her hand; she had a big diamond ring that was hard not to notice.

She noticed me staring, stopped eating, and cleaned her mouth with a napkin. “I need to tell you something.” She kept playing with the ring, and I just had a bad feeling about this. I swallowed and drank some water.

“Paul and I decided to get married.”

Was that it? I raised a confused brow because, as far as I knew, they were already married. “The public has no idea I am his wife. They keep matching him with these blonde celebrities, and I am tired of that.”

Of course. She just had to appear in the catalogues as Paul Fremore’s wife. “Let me guess, you both plan to hold an extravagant celebrity wedding, am I right?”

“Yeah… during your next school break.”

I sighed and decided to continue eating because my opinion didn’t matter when it came to her relationship with Paul.

“I am pregnant.”

I coughed as the food stuck in my throat and my eyes became teary. Holy fuck. Did she just say pregnant?