As always, thanks so much for reading. Lots going on over the next few chapters, so please let me know what you think! Also there's an Author's note at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 30

I turned away from the painting, which was still hanging at an angle, and regarded Alex for a moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Am I cursed?" Alex asked again, his back rigid and hands balled into fists. He had turned away, facing at an angle from me, but I still saw his face twisted in frustration.

For the most part Alex was even-tempered, however, from the time he was an infant I had realized his anger-when stoked-mirrored mine. Twice while in my arms he had slammed his head against the desk when I took something away from him and another time he had rammed his head into the wall when I refused to give into his begging. After the third time harming himself in a moment of rage, Alex learned he gained nothing but a headache and found a new way to unleash his anger.

When he wished to drive me mad, he would grab handfuls of music and toss them in the air before running from my room and slamming the door. Nothing irritated me more than standing in the middle of a half-finished opera scattered throughout my bedroom, but eventually I learned to mark page numbers on my operas-and to keep completed work out of his reach.

In many ways we were so similar that he knew what truly grated on my nerves whether it was tossing sheets of paper on the floor or incessantly tapping his foot on the floor when I was deep in thought. On many occasions I thought he enjoyed hearing me speak his name through my teeth.

Thankfully he was much easier to quell now that he was older and his actions rarely escalated above stomping down the stairs, however, the look in his eyes reminded me of when anger got the best of him.

"Why would you think you are cursed?" I asked.

His nostrils flared, eyes blinking rapidly to hold his tears at bay. His hands were balled into fists, and I could tell by the way he stood that he wished to unleash his anger.

"Alex," I said gently.

His posture changed, his lip quivering as apathy turned to sorrow. "I wanted to see my real mother and then when I did she died. Now I have a new mother and she's... She is dying."

His words stole the breath from my lungs. For eight years I had thought of him as every bit Christine's son given his curls of dark hair and oval face, but as I looked at him in the hall, twisted and uncertain, he was more of me and less of her.

"Alex, Julia is not dying and you are not responsible in the least for Christine's death."

He still refused to look at me. "But… That is not true."

For a long moment I merely stood in the hall with him, unsure of whether I should press for him to continue speaking or allow him a moment to compose his thoughts. For his age he was well-spoken thanks to the hundreds of hours he spent with Charles, but frustration knotted his tongue.

"I hit my real mother when I saw her," he blurted out. "On accident," he quickly added.

I nodded in response.

Alex turned to face me at last. "I hit her in the stomach when I turned quickly and she… she yelled at me and told me I was clumsy. She raised her hand like she would strike me, but instead she pushed me away and asked how I liked it." He paused and shifted his weight. "I tried to apologize but she walked away from me and said I was not allowed to walk beside her."

This was the first he had spoken of their interaction in great detail, and his recounting of their time together left me both angry and sad for my son. His mother had not permitted me to walk beside her, either, and for years I had fixated on always trailing behind her, always lingering in the distance.

I hated the thought of Alex following behind Christine, desperately wanting answers from the woman who had heedlessly abandoned him. I knew all too well what it was like to be a child wanting more than what I was allowed. I had been a terrible child, always escaping, and whereas I deserved my fate, Alex did not. The fact that I had not been there to protect him devastated me.

"And then this morning when I ran out of the dining room I hit my new mother on accident." His face darkened. "I hit her in the stomach as well, but she did not yell at me."

"What did Julia do?"

Alex glanced at me and shrugged, which I thought would be the end of the conversation. He wrung his hands nervously, gaze darting down the hallway in search of something, anything to focus on.

"She smiled and told me to be careful." He made a face. "And she kissed me on the forehead the way Grand-mere always does."

In my mind I could picture both the way Christine had pushed Alex away and how Julia would gently reprimand him for his behavior while still offering him a kiss to the forehead as she smoothed his thick hair and straightened his collar.

As I had said to Julia earlier in the day, she constantly had her hand on his shoulder or her arms around his neck. Well before we had known one another, she was quite fond of Alex and he had always been smitten with her. Many times I had watched her through the window as she bent at the waist to stand eye-level with him in the back garden while he regaled the stories we read in the evening. Not once had she interrupted him or told him to run off and play. I knew for certain she would not raise her hand to strike him or push him away.

"And what did you say in return to Julia?"

"I promised I would be careful, but I hurt her, I know I did. The moment we stepped into the carriage I could see that she was not well, and… I did not mean to hurt Madame Julia. I want...I very much want her to still be my mother," he said, his words barely spoken over the sob he choked back.

I reached out to him, but he hung his head and stayed put. He did not want me to console him, and as difficult as it was to withdraw my hand, I remained at a distance. "Her illness has nothing to do with you, Alex, I swear it, and she will always be your mother. One small accident changes nothing."

"Why is she ill then?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It is something difficult to explain, but no one is at fault. Sometimes illness happens and there is nothing we can do to stop it. Do you remember the last time you were not feeling well? No one was at fault."

He looked at me and nodded. "The very last time or the time before that? The last time was my fault because I ate too much candy. But it's not really my fault because Mademoiselle Leach gave me the candy."

His answer did not surprise me at all given his tendency to take my words literally. "I recall several times when you were not feeling well and you simply needed time to rest and recover."

"You slept on the floor beside my bed to make certain I did not wake up alone." Alex forced a smile and stepped closer to me. "And you would not let Aunt Meg or Grand-mere see me."

I nodded and placed my hand on the top of his head, ruffling his curls of hair. Alex had no idea I had kept him to myself out of selfishness more than any other reason, but at least he realized I had always stayed with him.

"Are you going back to stay with..." Alex paused and pursed his lips. Concern flitted through his dark eyes. "With my mother?"

His words made me smile and I suspected Julia would be pleased with him calling her mother instead of Madame Julia or new mother. Considering what Alex had told me regarding the conversation with Christine, I fully understood his hesitation.

"I will return to your mother's side in a moment. First I must find my checkbook."

His eyes lit up. "May I help you?" he asked.

"If you wish."

I had hardly finished speaking when Alex darted past me and dashed up the stairs. He flung the bedroom door open so hard that it hit the wall, and before he disappeared into my room I saw him cringe.

With a roll of my eyes and shake of my head I walked up the stairs and heard him rifle through the papers on my desk.

"I don't see it!" he yelled before he realized I had entered the room.

I clenched my jaw as he pushed his hand through a pile of music and several sheets of paper fell between the desk and the wall.

"Alex-"

"Are you certain it's in here?" he asked as he began opening drawers and rummaging through the contents.

"What are the two of you doing?" Meg asked.

Her voice startled the two of us and we both whipped around to find Meg standing in the doorway.

"Father lost his checkbook," Alex blurted out.

"We are searching for my checkbook," I corrected.

"It's on the dining room table," Meg replied as though this were obvious.

"What is it doing there?" I asked.

Meg shrugged. "I saw it after I thought you left. Mother was going to put it back on your desk but she must have not gotten around to it."

I suspected Madeline had taken my checkbook with her for diapers the day before and had forgotten to return it to my room. Normally if it was not in my room, it was in Madeline's possession seeing as how she was responsible for all of the purchases.

"I will get it!" Alex yelled as he burst out of the room and scrambled down the stairs.

Meg lingered a moment, her gaze settled on me for much longer than necessary. There was fondness in her eyes and a warm smile on her face.

"You are quite good to them," Meg said. "Lisette and Alex, I mean."

Her words made me increasingly uncomfortable. "You expect something different?" I gruffly asked.

Meg frowned and shook her head in dismay. "I should have known you would not easily accept a compliment, but I will say it again and ask you to set aside your self-deprecation for a moment. Lisette has been beside herself since she and Alex returned from the doctor's home. Not five minutes with you and she settled down."

"She exhausted herself."

"No, you were patient with your daughter when you could have reprimanded her for putting up such a struggle, but you chose to be even-tempered with her."

My eyes narrowed.

"I could hear you from our bedroom," she said before I asked.

"Eavesdropping, Madame Lowry?"

Meg smiled again. "Voices tend to carry in this house. You know this."

"So they do."

"You may not want to hear it, but you have always been good with Alex and you are precisely what Lisette needs. I doubt you knew this despite living in the same house as the rest of us, but for years Alex has wanted a mother and Lisette was envious of Alex having a father who loved him."

I looked away from Meg and turned my attention to the papers that had fallen onto the floor. "I knew what Alex wanted," I said without looking at her.

We had both wanted the same thing, but my desires were not as innocent as my son's. Whenever I saw him outside in the back garden with Julia he beamed, craving the way she settled her hands on his shoulders while she entertained his wild notions of bears and tigers battling trolls and dragons. She nodded readily and laughed at his stories, exuding warmth and motherly attentiveness.

For as long as Alex had been in my home, I had hoped Christine would return for him...and for me as well. I had always imagined once she saw Alex she would have no desire to leave him. In essence I had always held out hope that Christine would become the woman Julia had been all along.

"He has deserved far greater than I provided," I said.

"You are good with them. And I will fully admit I did not think you would take to a daughter so quickly."

"Neither did I," I answered.

From the corner of my eye I saw Meg turn and glance down the stairs in search of Alex before she turned back to me. "I am truly sorry for the loss you and Julia suffered."

Suffered seemed the most apt description for what our family felt. With a sigh I turned toward Meg. "As am I."

Meg waited at the door, and as I paused to thank her for her kind words, she flung her arms around me and squeezed much tighter than I expected.

"You have spent far too much time with Alex," I said lightly.

"Found it!" Alex yelled before Meg was able to admonish my words.

Meg stepped away from me, her hands brushing my shoulders, which reminded me of her mother. She issued a stern glance at me and shook her head, but chose not to say another word as Alex approached.

"It appears you found more than that," I said as I watched him stuff a cookie in his mouth.

Without an ounce of shame, Alex giggled to himself and hopped up the stairs, skipping every other one until he reached the top.

"Here," he said as he produced a second treat and handed it to me. "Ruby made them. They are like bites of heaven," he said with a sigh that reminded me of Hermine Leach.

"I will make lunch if you'd like," Meg offered.

"You will do no such thing."

Meg raised an eyebrow. "The babies are sleeping. As long as they nap, I am perfectly capable of preparing lunch for your children and my husband."

"May we visit the bakery?" Alex asked. "Monsieur Anthony always feeds us for free."

"Not today."

"Why?' Alex whined.

Because I said so seemed the most appropriate phrasing, but Alex would not be satisfied with that answer and I suspected a great deal of stomping down the stairs with his head dramatically thrown back would ensue..

"You are not a vagrant wandering the streets in search of handouts," I said. The edge to my voice immediately garnered his full attention. "Help your aunt in the kitchen," I suggested.

More than anything, I feared Anthony Seuratti would come calling at once if he saw Lisette and Alex on the streets. I had no desire to answer any of his questions or involve Julia's family in our affairs for the time being.

"I will! Lisette! We're making our own lunch!" Alex handed me my crumb-covered checkbook before he raced back down the stairs. Bessie, whom he had apparently let back into the house, followed him into the parlor now that the house had settled down.

"You should not be on your feet," I said to Meg once we were alone again. "I have no desire to return to the house and find you in the middle of some sort of...womanly episode," I said with a wave of my hand.

Meg turned away and snorted. "I cannot stay confined to bed for another eight days," she complained. "Besides, I will sit in the kitchen and keep an eye on Alex and Lissy."

"Fine." I tapped the leather checkbook cover against my knuckles before I crossed my arms. "I will fetch the two of them once Julia is ready to see them."

Meg nodded. "They are fine here. Charles and I don't mind."

They should have very well minded being bombarded with two more children on top of their own newborn twins. The Lowrys were far too polite to ever voice their concerns.

"You will be compensated for your time."

Meg placed her hand on my forearm. "Not when family is concerned," she said. "You see to Julia."

Charles had been wheeled into the kitchen by Alex by the time I walked to the back door. He and Lisette had pulled out every imaginable pot, pan, dish and bowl they could find, which made me wonder if Meg would in fact reconsider compensation.

Other than Bessie, who issued a forlorn look in my direction, no one seemed to notice me exit the house, walk down the ramp Alex and I had built for Charles, and slip through the gate into Julia's yard.

Ruby was in the kitchen when I entered Julia's home. She glanced over her shoulder at me as she wrung out rags and forced a smile that had no sincerity to it whatsoever.

"I believe it is over," she said before I could ask.

My blood ran colder at her words. The finality of her statement was not meant to be harsh, but there was no comfort in knowing Julia had spent the last few hours in agony without me at her side.

"Is Madame still in with Julia?"

"Yes, and the doctor as well." Ruby dried her hands on her apron one she hung the rags over the edge of the sink. "I am not sure if you are permitted in the room yet."

My jaw clenched. I would be damned if anyone attempted to keep me away from my own wife.

"I will find out, Monsieur," Ruby offered, evidentially noticing the frustration in my eyes. She turned on her heel and briskly walked out of the kitchen, leaving me to trail behind her.

Ruby tapped lightly on the guest room door. "May Monsieur Kire see Madame Kire?" she asked.

Madeline wrenched the door open with such force that Ruby jumped back in surprise. She had a peculiar, taut expression as she peered into the hall and met my eye.

"The doctor," she whispered as she looked away from me and glanced down the hall.

I followed her gaze and heard water running and a man whistling at the end of the hallway an assumed the doctor was preparing to leave soon.

"How much were his services?" I asked as I turned my attention back to Madeline and opened my checkbook.

"Ah, Monsieur Kire," a male voice said as the pocket door opened and quickly closed behind him.

I turned from Madeline and looked down the hall at a tall, broad-shouldered man with wire-rimmed glasses and graying hair. He paused several feet away from me and clasped his hands, his expression unreadable on his dark-skinned face.

Twenty years had passed, but I had not forgotten this man. My heart thudded and I put myself between the opened guest room door and the Persian I had never expected to see again.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" I asked through my teeth.

Kamil Khan seemed nonplussed by my tone. "Saving your wife," he said smoothly as he extended his hand and smiled at me.

Author's Notes: Kamil appears in the Of Persia story. If you haven't read that story yet (it's not finished as of spring 2018) I will add an author's note to the start of the next chapter or ending if it seems unclear. Also... fun fact... Alex hitting his head on the desk/wall was based off my youngest son cracking his head on the wall when he was a baby in a fit of anger and busting his head open. He still has the scar at the age of 14. :) I told him he'd end up in a story and now he did ha ha.