Chapter 5 - The Fever and the Confession on the Cot
The interior of the watchman's shack was suffocatingly warm, heated by a dented iron stove that glowed a dull, angry red in the corner. In the center of the room, lying on a narrow army cot draped with a patchwork quilt, Ariana tossed restlessly, her cheeks flushed bright crimson with a dangerous, high fever.
Beside her on a wooden crate, wrapped tightly in a frayed wool blanket, a tiny infant let out a weak, raspy cry that sounded like a kitten mewing in the dark.
"Ariana," I choked out, dropping to my knees beside the cot, my expensive wool trousers soaking up the dirty water pooling on the floorboards.
She opened her eyes slowly, the bright, intelligent spark I had fallen in love with years ago reduced to a dull, exhausted haze.
"Did... did the Harrington wedding get a good write-up in the morning papers, Adrian?" she whispered, her voice cracked and dry as dust.
"I canceled it, Ariana. I canceled everything the moment I found the bracelet and the note in the bottom drawer," I said, reaching out a trembling hand to brush the damp hair from her forehead.
She flinched away from my touch, pulling the blanket closer to her chest as if my hands were still capable of burning her.
"You didn't cancel it because you loved me... you canceled it because your pride couldn't stomach the thought of an illegitimate heir being raised outside your immaculate gates," she said, coughing weakly into her sleeve.
"I didn't know about the baby, Ariana. Mother swore she didn't know either, but I swear to you I would never have let you walk out that door if I had known," I said, my voice breaking as the tiny baby on the crate let out another desperate cry.
"You didn't know because you never bothered to ask how I spent my days while you were busy merging companies and entertaining women who wore diamonds I could never hope to touch," she replied, a bitter tear cutting a clean path through the sweat on her cheek.
Thomas stepped into the small room behind me, lowering his rifle and setting it against the wall with a heavy thud.
"She wouldn't let me call a doctor, Vale, because she was terrified your private security teams would track her down and drag her back to Vale House to lock her away in the nursery like a madwoman," Thomas said, crossing his thick arms over his chest.
"I'm not taking her anywhere she doesn't want to go, Thomas, but she needs medical attention right now, or this fever is going to kill her," I said, turning back to Ariana.
"I'd rather die in this shack than spend another single day breathing the air in your mausoleum," Ariana whispered, closing her eyes as another wave of chills wracked her frail body.
"You aren't going to die, because I am not leaving this room until you let me fix what I broke," I said firmly, lifting my hand to gently touch the edge of the blanket where the baby was stirring.
"Don't touch her," Ariana hissed, her eyes snapping open with sudden, fierce maternal terror. "You don't get to hold her after you threw us away like yesterday's trash."
I pulled my hand back as if I had been burned by hot coals, realizing that the damage I had inflicted over five years of emotional neglect could not be erased by a single night of panic and remorse.
"Just let me bring a doctor here, Ariana. Just let me save your life, and then you can tell me to walk out that door forever," I pleaded, my billionaire facade completely shattered.
May you like
She stared at me for a long, agonizing moment, the flickering light of the iron stove dancing across her pale, beautiful face.
"Call the doctor... but when I'm well enough to stand, you are going to sign the divorce papers on my terms, not yours," she whispered before losing consciousness entirely.
