Chapter 21

This was absolute nonsense. I waited around for two more days hoping he would come to his senses and come back home so I would not half to force him into my plan. Of course, since he has not been here, he has ultimately left me with no choice.

I walked towards the foyer and ready my book and wicker basket and stop when Gwen walks in.

She stops and give me a peculiar look. "Where you off to Belle?" She asks curiously.

I look at her and then down at her small little bump and back up to her face giving her a small smile. "To the bookshop." I pause, "and I was thinking of going to do some errands."

I watch her little pretty nose wrinkle. "Errands? My word Belle, you have servents for that. Why you doing that yourself?"

I smile kindly at her. Sometimes I forget how sheltered and privileged she grew up compared to my own upbringing. When Papa was at the University, him and Mama had one servant named Josie. Josie was more of a family friend then a servant. I was never spoiled and I always did my chores and learned how to sew and cook. I think Josie was just around mostly to keep Mama company when Papa was at the University. It was not until Mama died and the university got a collection of more professors and tutors who were of younger generation driving out the older ones that Papa could no longer afford to keep her around. Apposed to Gwen who had been waited on hand and foot for her whole life.

"I know. I just want to get some fresh air. Thought I might stop in and just keep Mr. Lanouis company. You know how awfully lonesome he is."

She nods her head. "Very well, I'll just take another nap. The baby was keeping me up all night."

I chuckled. I understood completely. Some nights Butternut did the same. When they did, I would always picture them saying, "Look, I'm right here!" And, "I need more room!"

I watched her figure disappear before heading out the door. I walked down the path and accepted the night breeze on my skin. It was surprisingly nice weather for March.

I walked along and ended up at the skirts of town and watch people doing their errands, selling and socializing. I nodded my head to many people as they greeted me with "good mornings," and "How you doing Mme. Gaston?" In which I would say, "I'm doing alright. Thank you."

I finally managed to walk in front of the Tavern and stopped. Maybe this is a bad idea I thought.

I shook my head. No, this needs to be done. Then again if this does not work out I am positive Papa would not mind me coming back home.

With a surge of courage, I walk inside.

I wrinkle my nose as the smell of the stale Ale and the harsh scent of Gin. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim, boisterous room lit with candles and a large fire.

I make a quick scan of the room and notice him. Its not an unusual site. Instead of sitting at a table socializing he sits in front of the fire in his large chair and he watches the fire.

I walk down the many aisles towards him ignoring the stares and the loud rowdy drunks slurring conversation. I also ignore the occasional groping of women I see the men do. Thankfully, my swollen state allows me to go unscathed.

I stop when I reach the back of his chair and just stare at him. His ebony hair is pulled back and is tied with sinew and he is wearing a black tunic and his hunting boots. I quietly walk over and place my hand on my stomach as I crouch down to sit on the ottoman by his feet.

His bored expression changes when he see's me sit down. I note the surprize, confusion and happiness before the shutters close and his expression is again stoic.

He sits up straighter and just stares at me. I notice his eyes looking at my rounded stomach repeatedly as if he longed to touch it. He looks up at me and stares into my eyes.

I break contact and look down clearing my throat. "You've not come home."

I look up through my lashes when I notice the movement of his adjustment in his chair. He still remained silent.

"Why are you not speaking to me?" I press him again and wait for him to continue. His eyes bore into me and yet he still says nothing.

I huff out a breath, "You're acting like a child." I watch something flash in his eyes but he doesn't make a sound.

I draw my brows together just looking at him. Waiting for a god forsaken sign.

I clear my throat. I never realized how hard this was going to be. To say I was going to do it and to actually do it is completely different.

So many emotions surround me and I can no longer look at him. I cradle my stomach and look down at it as I speak. "This isnt going to work. I waited. I waited for you to come home for over three weeks. For three weeks I cried and didn't eat or sleep. I felt sorry."

I looked up at him and saw an emotion on his face I could not read. "For three weeks I felt so sorry for what I had done and said. But I'm not sorry anymore." I take a breath. "You see, during those three weeks I got to thinking about us. It was there that I realized that you never said, not even once, that you loved me."

I look at him before giving a dry humourless laugh. "I realized I never said it myself. But I got so angry. I got so angry. You deliberately hurt my feelings repeatedly just because you felt like it, or if I did or said something you didn't like. You deliberately threw the fact that you could sleep around on me, pushing me to believe you were, to manipulate me into doing what you wanted me to do. For so long I let you do that to me. Every time you did you would break a part of me. A piece I could never get back. You would stomp on my spirit."

I looked at his face for any sign other then that strange one he had. My eyes welled up with tears. "I forgave you for every one of those times, I forgave you but I never forgot." I take a shaky breath. "However, what you did to me this time I will forgive. However I can not forgive the fact that you not only walked out on me, but you walked out on our baby too."

A tear slides down my face, "And I sit here telling you of this and you act like a child. I came here to make peace between us but I can't even do that."

I look to the ceiling praying for strength. "We're different. To different. We always never got along and with the longest time from the start of our marriage I accepted that. I do love you Gaston, but I can no longer accept it. Its not just you and me anymore."

I looked down at my stomach again crying silent tears. "I have this baby to think of. So do you. We can't act the way we used to."

I looked up at him and now I see his eyes swimming with indecision. "We need to act like one because it not just me you hurt when you act and behave you do. I dont want to be that mother who watches her husband up and leave her and their child weeks at time just because he feels like it. I dont want to half to explain why their father does not come home at night. I dont want to wipe away the tears in their eyes and I most definitely don't want them to grow up and despise me thinking I drove their father away."

I look at him fiercely. "I will not let my child hurt. I will protect my child with my very being. I am NOT a doormat. So stop trying to make me one."

I give a sound of disgust at him when he again says nothing. He just stares at me oddly. I support my stomach and struggle to get off the low Ottoman. When I am standing I take the maze out of the Tavern. I'm crying and struggling for breath.

I start rushing home and ignore people who try to ask me what's wrong and those pitiful looks. I stop only when I feel a large hand wrap gently and sternly around my upper arm. And the strong voice that says, "Wait."

Authors Note: Hey Guys! Thanks for waiting patiently for this chapter! I released it a week early seeing as so many of you keep telling me to update.

I hope you enjoy this Chapter. (It's not a short one like I said it was. Once I started writingI could not stop)

Looking to post the next chapter within the next 4 weeks.

Muahaha

- Please Review!

~FairyTales