Note: So sorry for the lateness in my updating this chapter. But good news, (or bad news) there is only one more for the end.

As The Season Changes

Chapter Seventeen

It was mid-December. A time of year Keigo already loathed. He felt as though he'd spent the past weeks living in a vacuum. Everywhere he looked, Christmas glowed and shimmered. Every store window blazed with red and green.

He closed his eyes and he could see her. Those big brown eyes sparkling, that sweet, succulent mouth just waiting... In his mind, he could hear Ai's throaty laughter. He could smell fresh peaches. Aw, hell.

All he could think of was Aiko. Ai mischievously wearing a crown of holly. Ai laughing up at him before welcoming him home. Aiko, Aiko, Aiko.

She loved holidays. Christmas her favorite. The story about her dream book had almost broken his damn heart when she'd told it. All those carefully cutout pictures from newspapers and magazines. All those unfulfilled dreams and wishes.

If any of that had been true. He'd convinced himself that even that had been part and parcel of her lies. She'd wanted that damn baby. She hadn't had a change of heart. She'd planned and executed her attack with the finesse of a general. Her weapons were state-of-the-art, old as Eve, and had almost worked. God, she had been furious when he'd told her he'd had the vasectomy. Furious!

He didn't want to think about her. The fact that this time of year would forever remind him of her pissed him off even more.

He pressed the button to open the gates to the estate, dreading the dark and empty house.

Part of him glad his father was coming over for drinks and dinner tonight. As much as he had started liking his father's company, even when he knew the older man was doing something to manipulate him; tonight he'd tell him in no uncertain terms that Aiko was definitely a conversation topic that was off-limits. They'd have a few drinks, get a meal and life would get back to normal.

He'd given most of the servants the month off. He was sick of the dark, accusing looks from his staff. They had adored her. To them, he was the villain of the piece. He should tell them about the miracle conception.

Since Aiko had left him, he was getting used to coming home to a dark house. He'd become accustomed to Aiko waiting inside for him. She'd have had every light in the place on in welcome. He didn't even want to think about her warm smile or her comforting arms. The house she had briefly made into a home was now a house again, a place he dreaded entering.

Well, he'd been fine without her before, and he'd be fine again. He didn't need her.

His fingers tightened convulsively around the leather steering wheel. Traitorous little witch. He'd narrowly missed making a complete fool of himself. The tabloid press had already made mincemeat of her. A calender girl who couldn't even cut the full year. Speculation ran rampant. Keigo ignored it as he always did. It was the job of his public relations team to control what was in the press, only bringing to his attention anything needing his immediate input.

In this instance Keigo turned a blind eye, instructing the PR people to do nothing to stop the innuendo and speculation. He didn't give a damn what happened to her. Aiko had made her bed. Now she would have to lie in it. He didn't even care who she lay in it with.

He wanted to believe she had been nothing but a brief interlude. Quickly forgotten. But the reality was she'd sure as hell changed his life. Never again would he have a mistress for a set period. God, he already felt like a hermit. Sex was the last thing on his mind.

She'd even ruined that for him.

He planned to spend the holidays in London this year, and had no intention of telling his friends and business associates there that he was even in the country. Part of him regretted giving her the house in Karuizawa. She wouldn't even let him dislike the holidays in his usual location.

It started to snow. A fine depressing mist coated the bare branches of trees, bowing down the shrubs in the long beds as Keigo pulled the car up to the front door. He should change his plans and go somewhere sunny instead, he decided, sprinting up the curved front steps and unlocking the door. Somewhere hot and clean.

Somewhere he'd never been with Aiko.

The first thing that struck him as the front door closed behind him was the smell. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Obviously he'd gone over the edge. The house was completely empty, yet he smelled a strong scent of pine and cinnamon and the pleasant aroma of apple wood burning.

Keigo tossed his overcoat over the table in the entry hall and strode down the hallway to his den. And came to a dead stop, his eyes narrowing.

The Christmas tree took up the entire corner by the windows. Brilliant with small white lights, glittering with gold and green and shiny red, the smell permeated the room. In the enormous fireplace, a fire blazed, sending up sparks of blue and orange, which reflected off the packages piled haphazardly beneath the tree. A plate of homemade cookies sat beside the crystal decanters on the drinks trolley.

Aiko.

Keigo's heart took up a frantic rhythm. He drew in a breath as if he were dying.

Aiko was home.

He flexed his still sore right hand. Fool. If she were here he'd kick her out in about two seconds. He didn't need her, and he sure as hell didn't want Christmas, this year more than any other. Damn her.

"Aiko!" He spun away from the room, storming like a demented fool through the empty, quiet house, shouting her name. Everywhere he looked were signs that Aiko had come.

And gone.

Crazed, he threw open doors to unused rooms, banging through closets. His bedroom carried a trace of her scent, but no Aiko. Her side of the closet still held her clothes. Every damn dress he had given her. He slammed the door shut to block out the scent of peaches and joy and loneliness.

He was enraged at her intrusion. Just when he'd gotten over her. Damn her. How dare she just walk into his house and destroy what little peace of mind he'd found?

The image of his Aiko, bit with another man's child pressed against his synapses. Would that picture ever go away? Or would it be replayed with one of Aiko holding the other man's child to her breast?

Keigo went back downstairs. His jaw ached and he realized how hard he was gritting his teeth. She had done this to torment him. He wouldn't allow it. Slipping back into his controlled and more manageable persona, Keigo poured a stiff brandy. Trying to show his appreciation for the 1884 Bas Armee, he ignored the tantalizing scent of fresh-baked cookies.

He took the drink with him, staring down at the presents beneath the tree. A green felt cloth, sprinkled with what looked like gold dust, lay like a blanket over something long and curved. Pinned to it was a note.

Keigo crouched down, his fingers trembled slightly as he slipped the note off the fabric.

"Suspend disbelief," she'd written. "Pretend you are a child and you've just come downstairs Christmas morning." Keigo closed his burning eyes for a moment. "I can't be part of your future. I've only been a small part of your present. I wanted to give you back something of your past." She hadn't signed the note.

"Damn it, Aiko." He took a deep gulp of Armagnac.

He carefully removed the cloth then sucked in a breath. It was a train. Perfect in every detail. The Lionel engine, black and shiny, was followed by coal tender. Behind it freight cars and flatcars carried smaller presents.

The train disappeared behind the sudden mist in his eyes. Keigo sank to his knees, blinking rapidly. Keigo flicked up the on switch. The train started with a whistle and a moment later a puff of smoke rose from the stack. A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. It hurt deep inside him.

She had arranged the track around the room, under the desk, around the chairs and tables. Keigo watched it for almost half an hour, clearing his mind. He had no idea why she'd done it. He didn't want to be charmed.

He stood to refill his glass, absently taking the plate of cookies back to his vantage spot on the floor. Biting into a cookie, he closed his eyes, listening to the clack-clack of tiny wheels on small tracks. He would have given his soul to own this train at nine.

Aiko had remembered.

It felt like a lifetime ago, the memory came unbidden. He had wanted a Lionel train, had asked for one, but what he got was a track that ran the perimeter of their thousand-acre estate with a train that required an engine driver and full-time staff to keep it running. Not quite what he had in mind to take up to his room.

A small package slipped from a car as it passed his knee. With trepidation Keigo opened it. Inside was a red Duncan yo-yo. The next package was marbles. The next a blue Swiss Army Knife.

Each gift represented something he'd wanted as a child. He opened a festive wrapped package from under the tree and found the flannel shirt she had promised him in Karuizawa. The next box contained a brown leather jacket. He tugged off his suit jacket and slipped his arms into the sleeves, smelling leather and a faint, faint trace of Aiko. He slipped his hand into the pocket to pull out the long white silk scarf.

She'd heard every secret his heart had revealed and made them come true. She hadn't forgotten anything.

He sat back as the brandy warmed his insides and the fire caressed his skin. He picked up a throw pillow off the couch. It still carried her scent. "Damn you," he seethed, crushing the pillow to his chest.

"Damn you to hell," he said. After all, she had sent him there.

He viewed the dozens of precious gifts and mounds of wrapping paper that lay around him, as his train made another circuit of the room. He'd wanted all these things as a child. And Aiko had given them to him. Aiko who had never asked him for a damn thing.

As the train continued its route about the room Keigo reached for the last gift beneath the tree. It was a narrow, flat box wrapped in gold paper with an iridescent red ribbon. The gift had been buried beneath all the others, almost behind the tree trunk.

Keigo sipped at his drink. He wanted to believe everything that had happened in his office had been a bad dream. That Aiko had never betrayed him. That Aiko was going to walk in any moment, her liquid eyes loving him, laughing that throaty laugh of hers.

The presents were so typical of her, so unexpectedly right. She knew him so damned well—which was why she had been able to sneak under his defenses and render him senseless.

No. Make that stupid.

He turned the last package over in his hand. His fingers twitched against the bow. He frowned as he looked down to see his thumb caressing the silky gold paper. He felt ridiculously reluctant to open this last gift of Ai's. As if by not knowing what it was, he could keep her here in the room with him for just a few more minutes.

Why the hell did almost everything that woman did have to charm him so? His gaze lingered on the piles of shiny paper tossed about the room. Had she meant for him to do more than 'suspend disbelief' for the minutes it had taken to open her presents? Had Aiko imagined he was fool enough to believe that bullshit about both the birth control and his vasectomy not working?

The bitterness of all filled him. He, a man who never vacillated, never had a moment of indecision or ambivalence, was suddenly filled with the most serious of doubts.

More than anything he wanted to believe Aiko's ridiculous story. He shifted from anger to agony in the blink of an eye. It hurt to breathe. He felt as though he were slowly dying without her. Keigo dashed another three fingers of brandy into his glass and tossed it down his throat.

Gasping for air, he waited a moment for the moisture from the alcohol-induced tears to leave his eyes before he glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. The last thing he needed right now was company. Did he have time to call off the evening with his father? Not unless he caught him on the car phone, and what the hell would he use as an excuse?

I came home and Aiko had been here. If I close my eyes I can smell her. She left me every present I'd ever wanted in my life. The box in his right hand cut into his palm. And she took away something I never knew I wanted...

He shifted in an attempt to ease the uncomfortable tightness in his chest and leaned against the edge of his desk. He was no romantic fool. The arrangement with Aiko was no different than he'd had with numerous other women. Aiko's premature departure was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"Yeah, right!" Keigo said out loud as the engine whistled and emitted small puffs of smoke. He closed his eyes. The box in his hand crumpled along the edge as his fingers tightened.

The wind picked up outside, clicking small branches annoyingly against the windows. While he had been sitting on the floor playing like a child, darkness had touched the sky and darkened the room. He hadn't bothered with lights. From beneath the chair across the room he could see the narrow beam of the headlight on the train. The small beam, the amber glow of the dying fire in the fireplace, and the little white lights twinkling on Ai's tree provided enough light.

Keigo put the empty snifter on the desk, then went over to the fire to open the last gift before his father arrived.

The paper crackled before revealing its delicious secret. The thought made him smile. Just as Ai had intended, no doubt.

He took the Swiss Army knife Ai had given him out of his pocket, stroked the smooth plastic with his thumb, then opened the blade and cut the tape.

Sitting on his haunches before the fire, Keigo carefully removed a sheet of paper from inside the box. The paper smelled of Ai and it took him a moment to open the single fold.

"Keigo," she wrote. "Please forgive me for what I have done to you."

"I never meant to lie to you, but I wanted a baby so badly. I must admit I would have done almost anything in my power to achieve my goal. I erroneously believed I would conceive immediately. I never for a moment thought that I would fall in love. I think even after I changed my mind about getting pregnant, I subconsciously knew I could never make you love me. There were so many times we were in such a hurry I forgot all about protection."

Yeah. Right!

"I wish I could have been there to love and protect you every day when we were children, but since I wasn't, I hope the presents will mean something to you."

"I understand, with your deep mistrust of women, why you didn't believe me about our baby. I know you have been lied to about this before. But the fact remains—we did make this baby together."

Sure, Ai.

"I know you never want to see me again. I am so sorry for causing you pain."

There were wet splotches blurring the writing. Tears of course.

"If you change your mind... we'll be waiting. If not, then I hope eventually you will be able to forgive me and find a love of your own."

"I will love you forever and a day."

"Your Aiko."

He was tempted to toss the box and its contents into the fire. He'd had enough. She had managed to reduce him to idiot status with the gifts as it was. The band tightened around his chest, just where his heart should have been.

Damn it, Ai.

The box contained several items. Keigo rose and turned on the desk light so he could see everything more clearly. He couldn't take much more. He wanted to dispense with this last gift before his father came in.

It was hard for him to breathe as he opened the next folded piece of paper. Keigo frowned, rotating his shoulder. What the hell...? It was a credit slip from Tiffany's in Tokyo. What had Ai done? Returned all the jewelry he'd given her? It didn't make sense. Stapled to the back of it was a similar receipt, informing him that the rest of the jewelry was at his lawyer's office for safekeeping.

He held on to it for a few moments setting it on the desk. He was suddenly dying for another drink, but his feet couldn't have moved across the room right then if he'd tried. Intrigued he flipped open the next document. What the...?

A cashier's check... for sixty million dollars? Why was she giving it to him? He removed a legal document from Ai's Pandora box, reading few words but then set it aside as a thin photo album was revealed underneath.

It looked well-worn, as if it had been opened and seen many times. Light reflected off the gold border as he opened to the first page. He frowned, absently tilting the shiny square to the light.

It was them. As children.

The album rustled in his hand. There were few pictures of the two of them together at different ages. Ai with her huge brown eyes, and grinning her special smile in each one. He was smiling too, but not at the camera. His eyes were fixed on her. Until the pictures stopped featuring her, and it was just him alone. Him in his school uniform. Him in his tennis jersey. Him holding the national trophy. Him giving his graduation speech.

Keigo stared for a confused moment.

He'd been the one to cut her out of his life.

The pain came so suddenly it knocked him to his knees. It ballooned in his chest making Keigo grimace and squeeze his eyes shut as he staggered back against the desk. The red wave washed over him leaving him shaken and breathless. Sweat slicked his skin.

Ai had managed to do what she'd planned all along. Not content with ripping out his hear, she had managed to induce a heart attack instead.

Headlights swung up the drive. Too far away. Too late.

Keigo snagged the phone, cradling his left arm against his chest. He managed to hit speed dial.

"Hi, this is Aiko. I can't come to the phone right now..."

A firebomb exploded in his chest. Like flame it shot down his arm.

The receiver dropped from his nerveless fingers. It clattered onto the moving train and then fell to the carpet with a dull thud. Dimly he heard the whistle of the engine as it's wheels spun uselessly. Then his pulse thundered in his ears blocking out everything else.

The phone. Had to... hosp.. call... pain... oh, god. This was it... had to... had...

Black snow swirled, his vision dimmed and he felt himself falling into a dark hole.

"A-Ai."


TBC...