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“Doesn’t matter. You won’t be attending.”
“Yes, I will!”
“No, Isabelle you won’t.”
“Jericho, please! My half-brother is dead. My cousin is alone. Not to mention her four-year-old son who loves me. Whom I love. He sees me as an aunt, Jericho. I need to be there for them.”
“She tried to kill you.”
“I don’t believe that. I can’t. Don’t you see?”
“For fuck’s sake, Isabelle. Open your fucking eyes.”
“I’m going to the funeral. And I’m going to see Julia. This can be over, Jericho. Don’t you want it to be over? Isn’t it time for us all to put it behind us? We’re having a baby. You and I are bringing a child into this world. If we can choose whether to raise the child in love or hate, why would we ever choose hate?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just drinks and looks at me. I think of what Julia said. Treating me with kid gloves. Turning my head, making me believe anything he wants. The kid gloves are half off, I think. This turn of events will force Jericho’s hand.
“If Matty is the heir, it will change things,” I say.
“That’s a big if.”
“It will change everything, Jericho.” Everything between us. It will lay the truth bare. I’m not sure I’m ready.
“It changes nothing.” His phone rings and he digs it out of his pocket, looks at the screen. “Go to bed, Isabelle. I need to take this.”
I put my hand to my stomach. I know it’s early and it’s probably in my mind, but I swear I feel the beginnings of a swelling belly. I look at him as he answers his call, eyes on me as he listens to what the person has to say. He signals for me to go upstairs and turns his back to me, walking toward his office, out of earshot, leaving me standing there alone.
34
Isabelle
Jericho doesn’t come to bed that night and the following morning when I go downstairs, I’m told he’s in his office and is not to be disturbed.
I sit with Leontine while Angelique plays with her dolls in one corner of the library.
“You know what happened?” I ask her.
She nods. “Zeke filled me in earlier this morning.”
“He says he won’t let me go to the funeral.”
“Why would you want to? He wasn’t a good man and you know that. My son has your best interests at heart, Isabelle,” she says, eyes on Angelique. “Jericho will protect his family. He learned the hard way what that protection has to look like.” She turns back to me. “And you are his family. You’re carrying his child.”
“Does he even want this baby now that he knows Matty is the heir?”
“What kind of question is that? A child is a child.” I feel guilty as soon as she says it. “You’ll have that child. A little brother or sister to Angelique. There’s no question about that, Isabelle. The child will be born.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I hurry to correct.
“Really? What did you mean then?” she asks squarely, tone harsher.
“I just… I didn’t mean I didn’t want to have it.”
Jericho enters the room just then and my heartbeat ramps up when his gaze falls on me. He’s still wearing the same suit he had on yesterday and he looks like he hasn’t slept. “Mother, please take Angelique to her room,” he says, eyes locked on me.
Leontine looks from her son to me, then gets to her feet and goes to Angelique. “Come, Angelique, let’s play in your room.” She leads her out by the hand and I stand up as Jericho closes and locks the door behind them.
“You didn’t come to bed—”
“What were you saying to my mother?” he asks, cutting me off.
“Were you listening at the door?”
“What did you say about the baby.”
“Nothing. She misunderstood.”
He steps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What did she misunderstand?”
“Nothing. Why are you being like this with me?” I sit back down and pull my knees up to my chest. “Will I never be accepted in this house? Will I always be under suspicion?”
“Isabelle,” he says my name like a sigh. He sits down beside me and takes my face in his hands. I’m sure I look like death. “Did you sleep last night?”
“I was waiting for you. I needed to talk to you.”
“There are a lot of things I need to take care of. You shouldn’t have waited for me. You need to take care of yourself and the baby now.”
I study him, searching his eyes. They’re full of secrets. I touch his face. “You told me to trust you. To choose you. I am. But this has to be a two-way street. You’re not choosing me, Jericho.”
His eyes soften at that and he pulls me onto his lap. “I do choose you. I want you. That hasn’t changed. But what’s happened, the timing of it, it’s too convenient. And it’s not you I don’t trust. It’s her.”
