AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The doors slid shut, closing in on her. Not unlike her life. Her career was all she had now and it stuck in her craw that the one thing she wished for the most was no longer at the top of her list.
She stepped out of the elevator on the ground floor, her lips thinning and her chest aching in its all too familiar way. Was she ever going to get over Mahindar? If time healed all wounds then hers must have been a deep, gaping hole in her chest.
She schooled her features back to neutral as she stepped out onto the wet pavement. The London traffic was horrendous as always but there was a lovely little coffee shop two blocks away, where she was meeting her mom. It had become their favorite little haunt since Arabelle had moved back to London.
Her mother clearly worried about her now, and had visited twice already in the last six months. Not only had her daughter been kidnapped, she was single and alone now, and rejected by one of the world’s wealthiest men.
Arabelle was only glad few people recognized her. Mahindar had managed to keep their brief marriage private and un-newsworthy and now she was as faceless and nameless as any of the other eight or nine million Londoners who lived here.
The overhead awnings mostly kept her dry, but the moment the pedestrian sign flashed green for walk, she stepped out into the rain, then slowed and tipped her head back, ignoring the curious looks from passers-by and drivers. This washercouple of seconds of freedom to relish.
She’d always imagined choosing her destiny was her freedom. Turned out a career wasn’t all creative abandon, there were restrictions, too. She’d learned it was the small things that counted. Such as getting her face and hair wet. Or playing her music loud and dancing in her tiny apartment like she really was wild and free.
She pulled the collar of her heavy jacket up as icy-cold rain trickled down her nape. It was just the reality check she needed. No one was free, not really. Not when bills needed to be paid. She was lucky if she had enough food in the fridge for a week.
Thank God she enjoyed her work and being independent.
She peeled opened the coffee shop door, the strong scent of coffee beans tantalizing her nostrils even as lovely warmth hit her. Her heels clacked across the polished wooden floorboards as she headed toward the rows of tables and chairs where her mother sat.
“Mom,” she croaked. “Sorry I’m late.”
Her mom stood and embraced her, and Arabelle was enveloped in her mother’s exotic perfume. Her mom stood back then with an assessing stare even as Arabelle noted her mom’s gorgeous tailored pink coat and blouse, her cream skirt and heels, with the elegant pearls at her neck and ears.
“You look…professional,” her mother said, then chided, “and far too thin.”
Arabelle looked down at her heavy tweed coat, dark pants and white blouse. It wasn’t exactly Vogue, not on her shoestring budget. Her wardrobe was made up of sale items or cheap secondhand clothing. Luckily she had a good eye. “It’s a little drab, but serviceable.”
Her loss of weight wasn’t deliberate. She just found food harder to get excited about these days. It was probably a good thing on her wage. Luckily she was on her way up in her career.
They sat and her mother leaned back with a frown, her eyes flashing with concern. “Your husband gives you an allowance, yes?”
“Ex-husband. And I don’t want his money.”
Her mother’s lips pursed. “You should. He wants to know you’re looking after yourself after—“
Her mother cut off whatever she’d been about to say about Arabelle’s kidnapping, then asked gently, “Have you signed the divorce papers?”
Arabelle shook her head. “Not yet. I’m still waiting on the paperwork.”
“Did it occur to you he might not want a divorce?”
Arabelle’s heart crashed painfully against her ribs. “Mom, please! He sent me halfway around the world to get rid of me. I’m under no illusions that he wants me back.”
A waitress came and took their order. Arabelle and her mother opted for coffee and a chicken and salad wrap.
At her mother’s flushed face and restless hands, Arabelle cocked her head to the side. “What is going on, Mom?”
Her mother looked up a little guiltily, crushing a napkin between her fingers. “Your husband saved me and your father’s lives. When I heard of your breakup I was devastated. Your father, too. “
“That was Mahindar’s call.”
“So why does he look so…broken?” her mother burst out. “He’s miserable, darling. Anyone can see he misses you. And with the war that broke out between him and Shiekh Ramirez—”
“There was a war?” Arabelle asked in a scratchy voice.
Her mother nodded. “It was kept under wraps and not well publicized, but it’s taken six months for your husband to finally subdue Ramirez and take back control of what was a dire situation.”
So he really did start a war to protect his old friend. And no doubt to protect his soon to be ex-wife, too. The ache in Arabelle’s chest bordered on painful. Her husband was loyal to a fault, she’d give him that much. “Do you know if Aisha is okay?”
