Grief!
Proserpina
Rachel was a much-loved aunt for the kids and she soon had Claude eating out of her hand too. She and her lover, a sweet woman she had met in Peru, had finally decided to get married later in the year, a Christmas wedding, she said with a wry grimace. Mayra, her lover, had been simple and not as outspoken as Rachel during our video conversations. She was a doctor, and they had decided to finally tie the knot.
I was thrilled for them.
“You had better be there for the wedding, girl, ‘ she warned, fixing me with a stern look.
I dimpled.
“I shall tell Lucien when he returns,’ I said simply. The twins turned to look at me. They were anxious about their father, no doubt and were longing to know how he was. But one look at my face and they exchanged glances and turned back to Rachel, faces subdued.
Guessing the reason for their suddenly mellow expressions, she grabbed Ria’s hand and indicated that they should follow her.
‘Come on, you lot!’ she urged, ‘I have something to show you.’
The kids eagerly scrambled to their feet, Paddy and Claude as well, and they left the room.
I was grateful for that.
I did not want to make my children feel upset. But now, it had been so many days since I had heard Lucien’s voice, there was a deep, gnawing fear in the pit of my stomach.
When would he return?
***
Later that day, Rachel strolled into the kitchen as I supervised the preparations for lunch.
I had come up with a fancy vegan lunch for her, a vegan pot pie with cornbread crust followed by a peach pie, also vegan. It had occupied me all the morning for which I was grateful. When I was doing nothing, my mind kept playing tricks on me.
Sighing as I rinsed my hands, I reflected that it was time I visited my counsellor, Asha.
I looked up as she strode in, large and well built. She grinned as she saw me.
“Ah, there you are, busy mum pottering in the kitchen, eh?’
I smiled up at her for Rachel towered over me. She brushed the flour off my cheek.
“This is for you, ‘ I beamed, indicating what I had made for her.
She easily hauled her large frame onto the counter and let out a low whistle.
‘Feeding me, eh?’ And then she laughed, ‘I shall not be able to fit into the fancy tux and all the trappings when I get back to Mayra!’
I turned and burst out excitedly,
‘You are going to have a proper, dressy wedding, right?’
There was a note of wistfulness in my voice and I could not help myself. The twins and Claude had barged into the kitchen and had clambered on the counter too. Paddy was tailing them and I saw Philippe out of the corner of my eyes. He grinned, waved and disappeared.
‘Yup!’ said Rachel cheerily.
‘Mayra wants to go the whole hog.’
Ria was listening, eyes like saucers.
I burst out laughing and pulled her into my arms.
“No, silly!’ I bubbled, rightly reading her expression. “Auntie Mayara does not eat hogs. it’s an expression. She wants a proper wedding.’
Ria hugged me and then, looking into my eyes, she said solemnly,
‘Mumma, did you and Pappa have a white wedding like the one Auntie Rachel is going to have?’
I flinched and felt myself freeze over.
Memories of my disastrous wedding day and the dreadful night before engulfed me.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.
The only wedding I had had was in a court.
And it was a stiff ceremony.
There had been nothing to cheer about.
After all, I had been raped by Lucien the night before.
And my baby Claude was the result of that terrible night.
The stillness on my face frightened Ria and tugging at my arm, she cried,
“Mumma? Mumma? What’s wrong?’
Rachel, who knew part of the story, immediately pulled Ria to herself and said,
‘Hey, kiddo! Your Pappa was in a huge hurry to get married to your Mumma so he did not have a …uh…white wedding.’
***
Dinner was a subdued affair. The kids were quiet and tired after a swimming contest with Rachel who was a powerful swimmer.
I was bogged down by my painful memories.
Rachel was too tired to protest when I bundled her off to bed soon after Ria and Piers trotted off for their bath, Claude trailing them sleepily.
Even my three youngest babies seemed weary and fell asleep quickly, a rare enough occurrence.
When the kids crawled into bed with me after the littlest threesome had fallen asleep, Ria lay nestled beside me, Claude and Piers on the other side. They had all fallen asleep in a matter of minutes.
I sighed and lay for hours, staring at the sky.
Brooding, I lay for a while, tossing and turning before heading to sit on the balcony.
Rachel’s remarks and my anxiety over my husband kept me awake.
I realised that my cheeks were wet.
***
In the dark hours of the night, I felt again, the distress I had endured as I learnt of the army of women he had bedded after he married me, while I remained, silent and confused, here at Hollowford.
Even our marriage had been a farce then. Merely a way out to tie me down to him, the Mafia Boss I had never stopped loving.
Yes, without any warning, he had dragged me to the hall in the Club where he had arranged a party and made a public announcement. That I was the mother of his twins and so, he was going to marry me…
Because he had discovered that the twins were his children, after confirming it with a DNA test.
But along with the deep, undeniable, uncontrollable passion that ran between us, was a swirl of other emotions.
Lucien could never get over the fact that other men found me attractive.
Because I was years younger than him, he imagined that I was out to have an affair with any man I smiled at.
And that night, I had been lured into the room in the Club where the BDSM and other kinky activities happened.
When I entered the room, my first response was to turn tail and run but I had been told that there had been a call from the house for me; assuming it to be something regarding my twins who were babies at the time, I had hurried to take the call.
Only to find I had been led into a trap.
The horror I felt when I saw the various instruments of torture in the room made me stumble backwards, too late. The door was barred by one of the men who had lured me there.
Brad and Hank had been lying in wait, the young men I had had just a passing acquaintance with, in the past, one the boyfriend of my roommate, the other his friend.
I should have cottoned on to the fact that they were out to create trouble of some sort that evening when they constantly tried to cosy up to me. But young and naive as I had been, I had smiled at them and generally wondered why they were being so nice to me.
When Lucien had entered, having been given a message of some sort that I was in the room with my paramours, he had been beside himself with rage.
He had thrashed the young men to within an inch of their lives. as I watched in horror. I had known he was capable of violence but to see the rage with which he pummelled the men who were younger than him, had made me shrink in fear.
And then, he had turned on me, disregarding my pleas of innocence.
What happened that night was something we had never spoken about after that.
In a fit of rage and jealousy fuelled by drink, he had subjected me to the worst sexual experience of my life.
I shuddered again.
He had taken me roughly, repeatedly, using me like a common whore that night.
Yes, I had been savagely raped by the man I loved. And more…
A horrific act I had never endured in my life, an act that had never been repeated either.
***
The next morning, I had read the self-disgust on his face, had known he hated himself for the barbaric things he had done to me.
But I had been too traumatised to care.
And he had left for someplace immediately after signing the court documents that made me his wife. He had stayed away for months while I discovered in horror that he had impregnated me that night…
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to forget that dreadful night in the Red Room.
The room in question had been subsequently broken up and merged into the enormous kitchen, Grace had told me once.
I had forgiven him for the things that had happened, for what he had done to me, the hurt, the pain and the repeated humiliation he had put me through.
But I had not been able to forget the terrible things that had happened…
And I had continued to love him.
Lucien could never apologize; he simply did not know how to do it, although I guessed at his deep remorse.
The pain in his face when he looked at Claude reminded me that he had not forgiven himself too.
For the little fellow showed signs of a darkness, an anger, an aggression that was quite at odds with the sunny nature of his sister and the calm, clinical way his elder brother handled himself.
There was a thread of violence inherent in his nature and I dreaded to think of what he might turn into …
A deep sadness washed over me.
Lowering my head, I wept in abandonment.