Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I felt like nothing without him.
I had no value. I was just some weak woman without a backbone. I was just someone who lived a life full of regret. The shadows took me, possessing my soul, making me relive the most painful moments of my life.
In the blizzard, begging for forgiveness that I would never receive.
She loved me still, would always love me, but it would never be the same.
Without him to chase away the thoughts, I was left to my own misery. I was left to reflect on my bitter regrets, to look further back than that terrible night in Paris, to think about all the things Raven did for me that I never appreciated. She was a better mother than our own mother had been, and I’d never told her that.
I never realized how shitty of a person I was until now.
Fender was the only thing that made me feel good about myself.
I took my lunch in my room instead of the garden room. I didn’t bother with my hair and makeup, because without Fender to appreciate it, there was no point. Sometimes I took a walk outside when the weather permitted it, but I mostly spent my time alone in my room.
I sat at the dining table and watched Gilbert serve my tray, a full meal with desserts and tea. Fender encouraged me to eat whatever I wanted, but I just wasn’t hungry anymore. I barely ate half of whatever Gilbert brought me.
When he set down the tray, he didn’t leave. This time, he stayed.
I looked up to meet his gaze, waiting for him to tell me what he wanted.
He took a deep breath with his hands behind his back. “May I join you?”
“Join me for what?”
“For lunch.”
My eyes narrowed in confusion because the request came from nowhere. Gilbert and I hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other after Fender left. I’d given up trying to play nice with him, and once I stopped caring, it was actually easier to accept his hatred. “Why?” The question wasn’t meant to be rude. His request was just a surprise.
He gave a shrug. “With His Highness gone, I don’t have much to do.”
“Um…okay.”
He retrieved his lunch from downstairs and took a seat across from me. He had the small meal that I did, so Fender obviously fed his staff the way he fed himself. There were so many moments that showed his kindness and empathy, sometimes I forgot the other version of him that I despised.
I stared at Gilbert for a while, hardly able to believe he was actually there.
He sat with rigid posture and dined like he was sitting across from royalty.
It made me drop my elbows off the table and straighten my back.
We ate in silence for a while, hardly looking at each other.
I spun my fork in my pasta before I looked at him. “Did Fender ask you to do this?”
He hesitated at the question, his eyes still down on his food. He cleared his throat before he forced his gaze to rise and meet mine. “Yes.”
“Well, you don’t have to. I won’t tell him.” I’d rather be alone than have someone who hated me forced into my company.
His gaze dropped back down to his food before he took a deep breath. “I apologize for my behavior, Melanie.”
I stilled at his apology, saw the sincerity in his gaze but could still hardly believe it.
“It was wrong of me. I didn’t realize how much my personal feelings were affecting my professionalism until Fender addressed it. It’s unacceptable, and I’m grateful he was able to forgive me. I hope you will as well.”
I knew how terrible it felt to ask for forgiveness and not receive it. It was the most haunting experience. Isolating. Painful. “Of course.”
He told me about his life in Paris, growing up in a middle-class home. Both of his parents were teachers. He had two sisters. He lifted the teapot and poured more tea into his cup then dunked his tea cookies inside before he took a bite.
“How did you start working for Fender?”
“I earned a butler position for a few ultra-wealthy families, taking care of their homes while they were away, things of that nature. It paid well and Paris is expensive, so I took the job despite the long hours. Fender was acquainted with those families, and when he heard all the positive things they had to say, he came to me privately and offered me the position. Said he wanted me to work for him exclusively. I’m loyal to my clients, so I turned him down. He went to my clients and paid them whatever they wanted to release me of my obligation, and I’ve been here ever since.”
Fender didn’t seem to accept no for an answer—ever. “How long have you felt this way…about him?” Maybe I shouldn’t ask such a question, but the information was out in the open now.