Chapter 29
SHANE
“Forget you? That would be impossible.” He laughs softly, and there’s a spark of complicity in his eyes that eases me a little. However, uncertainty lingers.
As I accompany him to the apartment door, a tightening knot forms in my stomach. I glance towards the living room, where the light spills out, and as we walk, the familiar sounds of laughter and murmurs bring me back to reality.
Upon reaching the living room, we find Gigit, gracefully moving through the kitchen, serving coffee. He gives us a playful look as he sees us holding hands.
“Good morning, Gigit,” I greet, trying to keep my composure, but there’s palpable tension in the air.
“Good morning, Miss Shane. Mr. Liam, are you ready to go?” Gigit asks with a cheerful tone. He seems comfortable.
Then, Marc appears in the living room. His effort to avoid my gaze is noticeable, a reminder of our small argument the night before. There’s something unspoken between us, but in this moment, Liam’s presence overshadows any simmering conflict.
“You have a serious problem, Gigit. One day you’re respectful and other days you’re rather impertinent.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want it, sir.” Gigit smiles — obviously pleased.
Liam interjects.
“Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go, we have a lot to do at the office.” Liam replies, not taking his eyes off me, as if my eyes could offer him refuge amidst the day’s uncertainty.
“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm,” Gigit says, approaching Marc. Despite a height difference, Marc being slightly taller, he exudes authority. Marc nods before Gigit brushes his lips against his. I feel uneasy at the display.
In a gesture of reassurance, Liam places a hand on my back, giving me strength. His closeness is a reminder of what’s to come tonight.
“I’ll be waiting,” Marc says.
“Fine,” replies Gigit, and before standing aside at the door, he gives Marc one last lingering look, which Marc avoids.
“I’ll send a team of stylists to prepare you for tonight, little wolf,” Liam whispers, kisses me before leaving, and in that instant, a mixture of longing and desperation grips me.
My heart pounds in my chest as the door closes, leaving me alone in the living room, burdened by unspoken words, tucked away like a secret within me. Marc watches me, and although his words offer a faint comfort, there’s still a cold, distant wind between us.
“Are you okay?” Marc asks. I slowly nod, though inside I’m swirling with emotions.
“Yes,” I reply, realizing I haven’t run to vomit in a few days. But the nausea is a constant presence, and now I know why.
“Listen,” I set aside my thoughts to focus on him, “I’m sorry about last night. I think I drank too much…”
“Nah, don’t worry about that. Just avoid attacking me next time. Don’t act like an idiot with me if you’ll be fine with your partner the next day.”
“Forgive me. It was wrong, I’m really sorry.”
“Come here,” I extend my arms, and Marc willingly steps closer to embrace me.
“I’m glad you’re in my life,” he murmurs into my head.
“Me too. But if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late for work.”
“True,” he pulls away.
“I have vacation until Sunday. I’ll start my workday on Monday. I have a lot of things to catch up on, I can’t keep going like this.”
“I understand. Well, I have to go. I’ll be back at 4 pm to get ready.”
“Perfect.”
After Marc leaves for work, I prepare breakfast and call the clinic to reschedule an appointment with my gynecologist. I also call my mom to see how my dad’s foot is doing. When I finish my call with them, I grab my laptop and start catching up on pending work.
The day unfolds peacefully, but my mind wanders between the events of the previous night and the uncertainty I feel about what I’m dealing with. Though I’m on vacation, there are so many projects swirling in my head that feel pressing. My lifestyle as an interior designer demands constant attention to details and trends, and in the past week, I let my mind go blank, allowing emotions to overwhelm me.
As I sip juice and leave the coffee aside, because I read that it can harm babies, I plan how to make the most of the time I have this week. Despite the emotional turmoil, it’s a good time to reflect on my work and perhaps gain inspiration from the world around me. I decide to open a folder of current projects on my computer and start reviewing some of my past designs. Ideas begin to flow, and as I translate abstract visions into concrete sketches, creativity rekindles within me.
I spend the morning immersed in my work, letting the positive energy of creation surround me. Suddenly, a notification breaks my concentration: a message from Liam.
[Hope you’re having a good day, little wolf. Did the stylist arrive?]
Just then, the doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts. I get up with a mix of curiosity and excitement, and as I walk towards the door, I quickly respond to Liam.
“Yes! They’re here. I’m excited to see you tonight.”
I close the message and open the door with a smile, finding a team of stylists, all cheerful and ready to work.
“Hi, you must be Shane!” exclaims one of the stylists, brimming with energy. “We’re here to make you look spectacular!”
I let them in, and the atmosphere quickly fills with laughter and animated chatter as they get ready to transform my appearance. They settle in, creating a small space in my living room where everything will be ready to give me the best possible look.
As we begin a facial treatment, I feel relaxed and excited at the same time. The group’s energy is contagious; I soon find myself laughing and enjoying the time we spend together. Each of them contributes their own style and advice, and I feel grateful to have them around.