After that invigorating bath, I slowly tapped my body dry with a towel. I took his bathrobe and donned it, loving the smell of him, soothing my senses as I breathe in. Hugging myself, I got out, hoping to see him standing there in the middle of bedroom, waiting for me in unguarded anticipation.
But to my dismay, he was nowhere in sight. With my hair still dripping wet, I went out in search of him.
As I slowly walked down the spiral staircase, my heart was thudding loudly, so naturally it does that. Because tonight was the night.
I was going to confess what I was hiding inside my heart.
There was no holding me back.
I would take my chance of forever with him.
However, he wasn't in the living room, nor was he in his study where he usually stayed. My barefoot felt the tiled floor's coolness. I hugged myself tighter as I opened the glass door, thinking he might be outside.
The night air met me by surprised that I gasped in response.
He was there, standing infront of the swimming pool. Still wearing the same clothes he wore at mom's. His tall sillhoute could be clearly seen. The pale moonlight cast a shadow unto him. He was talking to someone from his mobile phone. I frowned slightly for his right hand was holding a picture frame. My eyes widened in recognition for it was a picture of dad and I. I got it from my old room in our family home as a simple remembrance before.
I brought it with me as to make me feel more warm and at home in his house.
I was about to go near him when I heard what he said to the person on the phone.
"Next month", he said in a hissing voice, he sounded almost angry. "No, no, that's taking too long for you to be done with it."
Paused.
"No, I didn't tell her yet."
Paused.
"Yes, Carol had the plane tickets."
Long paused.
Then he said with too much conviction, "I'll see you there."
He turned off his phone without saying goodbye and I heard him cursed an expletive, then he turned around.
He was surprise to see me.
"How long have you been standing there?", he asked carefully.
"Not long. Who was that on the phone with you?"
"Ah...", he hesitated then put his phone inside the back of his pants pocket. "Greg. I asked him to do some paperworks for me", then he smiled.
He walked towards me and kissed my temple.
"You're going to catch a cold wearing just that. Hmm... You had your bath. You always smells great", he grabbed my butt, kneading them and started kissing my nape.
"Where are you going?", I asked, I didn't want his touch to stop me from inquiring.
He groaned. Still kissing me, ignoring my question.
I pushed him away and stared at him blandly, showing him my defiance.
He sighed and run his left hand thru his blonde hair.
"I'm going on a business trip."
"A business trip? Where to?"
"France, I'm flying there next week."
"And you didn't tell me?!"
"I'm telling you now."
I scowled, crossed my arms against my chest, showing him I was upset and angry.
"I was scheduled to go today but I cancelled the flight because you wanted to have lunch with your mom", he explained.
I bit my lower lip. Guilty because the lunch date wasn't planned and I made the decision for him to do so.
"Okay, so how long will you be gone?"
"Two weeks."
"Two weeks?!", I feel like a dummy for I kept repeating his words.
He nodded.
"And you didn't even inform me?", a question I asked more to myself than to him.
"I did now-"
"Don't you start smart mouthing me!", I scathingly remarked.
"What?!", he was puzzled I said that.
"Goodness! I have a husband who keeps a lot of secrets from me", I said as I turned my back from him.
"I'm not."
"Oh yes, you are?!', Pointing my right index finger at him, nodding vigorously in emphasis. Not wanting to hear his reasoning.
He stopped and took a deep breath. His temper not far from boiling.
His face was flushed.
Oh God, that's how he looks like when he just had his orgasm. Damn it! He's making me horny.
"There's some things that I cannot tell with you right now. I... You will understand in due time. Right now I asked you to trust me, please".
Trust him? How?
"If you want my trust then let me go with you", I said in a quiet whisper.
His frown deepened. He was taken aback by my request. He didn't expect I would say that.
"I can't take you with me. You'll get bored there because I cannot keep you company. If you stay here, at least you have your work to keep you busy", he said in a careful manner, as not to hurt me. He came towards me and wrapped his arm around me again.
"I'll ask Tori to stay here with you, so you won't be alone in the house. You can go shopping and start redecorating as what you once wanted."
"But I want to go with you", I said pouting, burying my face against his muscled chest.
"I'll be very busy with our business transactions and I have meetings with some bankers."
"I want to trust you, Eric", I said above a whisper. A weak argument but it was my last draw.
He became silent while I waited for him to respond.
Then he took a deep breath and to my surprise, he gently lifted my chin and looked me straight into the eyes.
"You can always trust me, Nicolaa", he said with a serious look on his face.
I slowly nodded my head.
He frowned, he knew my mind wavers.
"Okay then", he gave in.
I hugged him close, so grateful.
I was estatic for I won.
I smiled devilishly to myself, burying my face upon his chest.
This heart belongs to me.
No way will I let that Portia Arradi or any woman take it away from me.
No way will I let them win him over.
Over my dead body.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Paris, France
Almost four days came by with him not staying by my side. He left me in the care of the hotel staff in which we were supposed to stay at but it looked like he has no plans to stay there with me. Though the hotel services were great, that didn't make up with the loneliness I felt. I missed him so bad but he was never around me.
Just the night of our arrival, he slept with me then the next day he was gone.
Yes, he called me from time to time to check on me but that didn't make up for those time I wanted to spend with him. Wrapped around his arms, holding hands, talking.
Oh Eric, please come back to me.
I sighed. Punching his pillow, burying my face on it. Wishing it was his body.
I was lying on the satin silk sheets, not wanting to get up and do some shopping all by myself again.
The hotel driver Marceau called me a while ago asking if I wanted to go shopping again or somewhere else. He spoke fluent English with a French accent. He chaperoned me for three days during my husband's absences.
Gosh, I hate this!
I sat and my eyes landed on the cold breakfast buffet served by the hotel boy three hours ago. I pouted, my tummy started growling.
I needed to feed or else I would regret starving myself.
I stood up, still wearing his big shirt. Not caring to wear slippers, barefooted, I walked over to the dining table. I left the bedroom door open. Both my ears on high alert for I didn't want to miss any of his calls.
While munching on a croissant and a delicious eclairs at the same time, I frowned. I remembered something.
Three large rectangular shape packages covered in carton boxes arrived these morning which I sleepily let the hotel staff place them leaning near the front door.
I hastily drank the glass of milk, which luckily was still warm then went over to check them out.
I was curious what was inside.
According to the delivery men, they were for my husband and that they were fragile. As if I couldn't read the fragile signs written all over the carton boxes in bold, capital letters.
The stranger even bragged, telling me they all cost quite a stir in the gallery. Whichever gallery it was he was talking about, I have no idea. I was only listening to him half an ear for I was still so sleepy when they knocked and came inside. I dismissed them immediately and went over to the bed and slept. I was so lazy during the mornings these past few weeks.
But now I couldn't contain myself for these packages piqued my interest.
They were paintings, no doubt.
But what kind of paintings were they?
Or whose paintings were they of?
I had no clue.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
"How was your sleep mademoiselle?", Marceau asked while he was driving me back to the hotel.
I went out at four in the afternoon after I received a call from Eric. He said he will be coming back to the hotel tomorrow. I went shopping for new clothes and lingeries, as to surprise him for a fiery 'welcome back' celebration tomorrow night.
"I had a wonderful sleep. Eric called me today", I said, beaming with a wide grin on my face.
"Oi, good, good news for you. So that is why you were smiling again?"
"Yes", I took a deep breath. "I missed him so much", I said in a whispery voice. My eyes looked out the window, spying on a couple standing infront of a hotdog stand, entangled in a loving embrace.
He nodded.
"Marceau?"
"Yes madame?"
"Can you please drop me off here?"
"Why yes madame, if you say so?"
He stopped the car at a corner street. He was about to get out to open the car door for me but I stopped him.
"It's alright, you can go back to the hotel. I can manage from here."
"But madame—"
"You have a date. The hotel is only three blocks away from here, right? Turn left then right then walk straight?"
He nodded and I smiled at him.
"See? Told you I'm good at directions."
"You are very smart madame."
I laughed.
"Thank you Mar, see you tomorrow", then I got out and waved him goodbye.
I took a deep breath and let my eyes feast on the lovely city lights of this particular street in Paris.
People were busy walking about while I stood there studying them as they do so.
Carrying my two shopping bags, I walked over to the hotdog stand were I saw the couple before. Not that I wanted to spy on them but I just wanted to take a bite of that juicy hotdog. It reminds me of home and it was the first time I saw one here, too.
For the past four days I was there, I noticed most of the French people liked bread and veggies unlike my people who love food rich in protein.
No wonder their women were skinny.
I gave a hand gesture to the seller that I wanted to order two hotdog sandwiches because I cannot speak French.
I paid him and said Merci (thank you), which I learned from Marceau.
As I tucked my other piece of hotdog sandwich inside my shopping bag, careful not to let the sauce make a mess of my newly bought clothes, I started munching the other piece.
I planned of doing some window shopping by myself. Atleast I wouldn't be troublesome to Marceau because he planned on going out with his girlfriend tonight. The hotel wasn't that far anyway so I wouldn't get lost.
I took another huge bite of my hotdog when a magazine in a newspaper stand caught my eye.
I frowned for the photo of the man on the frontpage looked very familiar.
I immediately grabbed it to take a good look.
Oh my God! That's them!
Portia and him?!
They were covering their faces as they were flocked by bunch of photographers but the name in the column was visible.
I have no french language skills but that photo spoke volumes and the word Amore means something was going on between these two.
Business trip, huh?
I clenched my fist in anger and despair. The hotdog sandwich falling from my hand unintentionally.
My eyes started filling up with tears as I scanned the french article.
The word Hotel Hyatt Du Louvre retained in my head.
So this was where he meets her, no wonder he didn't come home to me.
Shit!
My eyes were huge with shock!
My heart was pierced with triton's trident! My world slowly collapsed right infront of me.
Is this what was keeping him busy? His 'business trip' that he wanted to keep me away from?
This was such a huge slap on my face.
This was unacceptable due to my ignorance.
This was not barely tolerable.
No, It was intolerable!
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
I gathered my bags and started packing.
For four days, I was here alone in this hotel.
Four painful days.
Yes, he said he would be busy but I was expecting busy with work and not with her.
I was trying to zip my luggage close but I didn't have the strength to do so.
My eyes excessively shed huge tears. They wouldn't stop from crying.
Damn it! I couldn't think straight!
I stopped in resignation and defeat.
I bit my knuckle and sat on the edge of the bed, sobbing.
I hugged myself.
I felt like I was like a candle slowly dying.
I cried for almost an hour.
When my eyes gave up on me and all my tears were dry, I stood up.
I got to call the front desk and inform them I was leaving and that I needed to book a flight home.
I went outside of the bedroom, searching for my bag that I left on the floor near the door along with my discarded shopping bags. As I reached down to gather my bag, the unopened large packages caught my eye.
I sniffled and brushed my arm-sleeves into my snivelling nose, forgetting proper ethiquette and decorum.
I got to see what was inside those carton boxes.
I went towards the dining table and took the bread knife from there. Without hesitation, I slashed the first package my hands got into.
I got to see who was in it.
I gasped when it was finally revealed.
It was a painting.
A painting of her!
Portia, clad in nothing but a cloth wrapped around her waist.
He made a naked painting of her.
God, she's so beautiful.
How dare did I compare myself with her?
I shook my head slowly.
"No! No! Nooo...!", I cried in anguished.
Hyperventilating.
I cannot breathe.
Backing away from the painting until I stumbled and fell on my backside.
I hugged my knees towards my chest, sobbing dry sobs.
He lied to me!
It wasn't me, who he painted.
It wasn't me, who he longed for.
It wasn't me, who he wanted.
The man of my dreams that I dreamt of that one day will come to me, doesn't dream of me to be with him in this lifetime.
How dare did I aspire for something so unreachable?
There were dreams that ends in a nightmare.
There were dreams that stops when you wake up.
And, there were dreams that cannot be.
And my dream of him falling in love with me will forever remain...
A dream.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Toni Grace's Note:
The End.
Lol 😂