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Chapter 61: To Le Ciel Bleu
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2024-07-07 08:00:02The city lights began to twinkle as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Exhausted and emotionally drained, I craved a moment of peace. With a sigh, I decided to visit Le Ciel Bleu.
"Marlon, can we go to Le Ciel Bleu."
"Certainly, Ma'am," he replied. He pulled away from the curb, the familiar route to the restaurant a blur as I leaned my head against the cool glass window.
Le Ciel Bleu exuded a certain Parisian charm. A wrought-iron fence adorned with climbing ivy surrounded a small patio.
As we arrived, Marlon opened the car door for me with his usual courtesy.
"You can go home, Marlon," I said, turning to my driver. "I'll call you when I'm ready."
"Are you sure, Ma'am?"
"Yes, thank you," I replied and walked towards the restaurant, taking a seat at a corner table near the large glass wall.
I opted for a quiet table in the corner, away from the main crow
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The moment he was gone, I faced Regan, my anger rising to meet his. Pulling my hand free, I marched past him and into the house, slamming the door shut behind me."What was that Anastasia?!" Regan bellowed, his voice echoing through the hallway. "Are you having an affair with him now?!"His accusation stung, but it was the fear in his voice that truly confused me. "You're insane," I spat back, whirling around to face him."Insane?!" he roared. "You're the one who's lost your mind! Don't you realize what people will say if they find out? It'll be all over the tabloids – 'Anastasia cheating with some low-life chef!'"And that was my last straw. Fueled by long-suppressed emotions, I did something I never thought I'd do – I slapped him. Hard.The sound echoed in the vast emptiness of the foyer. I stood there, trembling with anger. "Don't you dare compare me to you, Regan I'm not cheating on anyone."“Do you expect me to just accept that?!”“Are you afraid of your own ghost?”He re
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A mountain of presents, wrapped in shiny paper and tied with extravagant bows, threatened to topple over on the far side of the room. On the mahogany table, a sea of cards gleamed under the soft light. I picked one up, its edges embossed with a delicate silver pattern. The familiar, pointed handwriting of Vivienne, one of Regan's business associates' wives made me almost sigh in dismay."Dearest Anastasia," the card gushed, the words shimmering with fake sincerity. "Happy Birthday! Wishing you all the joy and fortune you deserve. Perhaps we can schedule that charity luncheon we discussed? Regan mentioned such a wonderful idea..." The card fluttered from my grasp, landing face down on the floor. Charity. Luncheon. Always something they wanted. “As expected,” I muttered.The silence swallows the room, the only sound is the relentless ticking of the clock. My fingertips painted a crimson danced a nervous rhythm around the stem of my wine glass. The heavy damask drapes, a deep sha
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The days blurred into each other, each one more unbearable than the last. It had been nearly a week since Regan last stepped foot in the house. I went through the motions like a ghost. Mornings began with waking up to an empty bed, the sheets on his side still perfectly smooth. I would wander down to the dining room, where Susan and the others set out breakfast, their expressions carefully neutral. Most of the time, I didn’t touch the food. The taste of anything felt foreign to me, and my stomach churned at the thought of eating.I spent hours trying to distract myself, but everything I did felt hollow. The books I picked up went unread after a few pages. The TV droned on in the background. Even music, which had always been my escape, felt unbearable.Every evening, I found myself sitting by the living room window, staring out at the driveway. My phone was always within arm’s reach, its screen lighting up every now and then with messages or calls from people I couldn’t bring myself to
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The Unwanted Wife Chapter 61: To Le Ciel Bleu
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Regan's POV The car ride home was tense and silent. My family and I sat in the dimly lit vehicle, each lost in our thoughts. I couldn't shake the image of Anastasia's eyes, filled with pain and betrayal, from my mind. I hadn’t known she was there. My father had left first, and one of my cousins had stayed behind with Zarina, who thankfully seemed fine now. But the frustration gnawed at me, knowing I had somehow failed Anastasia again. As we drove, I finally broke the silence. "Does anyone know where Anastasia went? It's already 10 in the evening." My mother, sitting beside me, glanced at me with concern. "She might be at the house by now," We pulled into the driveway, and Dad was waiting outside, his face etched with concern. "Is Anastasia with you?" he asked the moment I stepped out of the car. "No," I replied, a knot of dread forming in my stomach. Just the
