Chapter Four.

Pearl's POV 

“What will you like Ma'am?” The butler asks, holding tightly onto his notepad.

“I'm okay, thank you,” I say with a forced smile but my brother, Paul, beats me to it.

“What do you mean by 'you're okay?' Today is your birthday, I didn't bring you here to watch people,” 

“I'm fine seriously, I just don't have the appetite for anything,” I say honestly, Paul signs in resignation.

“Give us your best wine, When her appetite comes up we will order some food,” Paul says to the butler and he nods.

“Happy birthday Ma,” The butler says with a sweet smile and I return it.

“Thank you,” I reply and he scurries off.

When the butler is out of sight Paul drops his smile and narrows his eyes at me, I turn away my eyes from him, I know he has figured something strange.

“When we were in the car on our way here you didn't say a word, I didn't give it much thought but when a foodie like you rejects food I know something is up, what's going on with you?” 

I shrug “It's nothing, just marriage issues,” I lie, actually there's a little bit of truth in it, but I fear for a lot of things. I chose a part seven years ago. I hope it won't be my doom.

“Marriage issues? Why do I feel like this one is tough? Like tough tough, because you'll always have issues with your partner or… you don't feel like talking about it?” I choose the latter, I'm not in the mood to discuss what happened earlier with Fabian. Not here. Not now.

“I don't want to talk about it,” I tell my brother everything that bothers me but when Fabian looks me in the eye and tells me he doesn't trust me anymore, it's too much to handle emotionally, I don't want to make a mess of myself either.

“Okay,” Paul relaxes in his chair, but his hands are still on the table, “But you know I'm always here for you when you need to talk to someone?” 

“Yes,” I nod, coyly.

“Alright,” he gives me a reassuring smile.

The butler returns with a wine and everything they do happens in a haze and before I know it, Paul is handing me a glass, “Let's make a toast.” 

“Cheers to more life and happiness, make a wish,” he urges me.

I close my eyes.

“I want to get pregnant, I want to have a baby for Fabian, I want my marriage to have the stability it once had, filled with warmth, love, and happiness,” 

I open my eyes.

“Cheers!” My brother squeaks, clinking his glass against mine, I sip a little out of my drink and drop the glass.

“Do you feel better?” He asks.

“Yes,” I smile genuinely, “How is Dad?” 

“Dad is fine, he hasn't changed much from the man you know, if you ask me he gets even more ruthless as the day goes by,” I sigh in disappointment.

“You don't need to worry about the old man, he is doing good,” Paul chides with a wave of dismissal.

“Does he talk about me?” I chew the inside of my cheek, mentally holding my breath hoping the answer would be different this time, that itching feeling that my dad will care about me one day never really goes away.

Paul scans my face with a pensive look, beneath his stern face I see pity in those eyes, I get my answer even before he speaks.

“He won't ever love me, will he?” I say looking in another direction but I don't see what's in front, my mind is spiraling with thoughts.

“Can we not talk about that? Today's your birthday,” He tries to wave off the matter but I don't feel like letting it slide. I only get to see my brother once in months, most likely every birthday for the past seven years.

“Paul, will you tell me the truth if I ask you something?”

His eyes are hesitant with dread, he reaches for my hand that is flat on the table, “Of course, I will tell you if I have the answer,” he says with a small smile.

“Do you think Dad loves me?” 

He drops his head and slowly raises it after a beat of pause, “I can't tell you if Dad loves you or not, but one thing I know is that no parent hates their child, they may go through challenging times, they may not say it with the language you want to hear but trust me they always love their children,” My brother's tone has less conviction but there's some truth in his words.

I may not have had the fatherly love I've been craving for all my life, but the love I got from my husband and my brother is close to nothing in this world, but the marks of my father's disdainful glare are hard to get off my skin.

“And this is how you spend your evenings?” A strangely familiar voice rings between me and my brother stealing our attention.

I flinch when I see my husband staring at me with a ferocious intensity, his eyes still red, his hair looks disorderly which is unlikely, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, his veins bulging out of his neck and forearms, he looks like a raging monster.

I squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny as his eyes flicker between me and Paul who is also horrified. We have been caught at last, and I feel like disappearing right now.