Chapter Thirty-Two
Bari
Sleep eluded me as I tossed and turned through the night, much as I had the three since I’d agreed to return to the estate to face Ahearn’s vengeance. Traditionally an Alpha would have carried out sentencing immediately after the issuance of the writ that Ahearn had requested, so knowing that he wanted me to dread my fate, to lie awake through the night under the proverbial hanging sword saddened me more than I would have thought possible. And while it wasn’t as though I didn’t deserve it, the Ahearn that I’d spent two-thirds of my life with had never been a cruel man and the knowledge that that had changed, thatmy betrayalhad changed him was a heart-rending thought.
Obeying the instructions I’d been given the night before, when morning came, I waited in the bed until Ahearn knocked lightly on the door to announce breakfast, bringing a tray laden with food that he placed on my lap.
“I wasn’t sure what you would feel like,” Ahearn said, his voice almost sheepish as he gestured to the plate of bacon, eggs, and potatoes beside a second one piled with cut fruit and a toasted bagel.
Staring down at the food that I doubted I could even choke down a bite of, I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t recall a last meal being a part of the ritual. “Thank you,” I finally said. “I’m not sure how much of it I can eat, so I apologize in advance for the waste.”
“It is a lot,” Ahearn acknowledged, his voice soft. “Perhaps I can help you with it.”
My surprise turned to stunned astonishment when he picked up the fork from the tray and scooped a bite of eggs, bringing it to my lips. He proceeded to alternate bites between us, feeding me from the fork and then using it himself until the plates were empty.
“Much better,” Ahearn said with a satisfied groan. He studied my face and then shook his head. “At least I know you ate, but it still doesn’t look like you slept much.”
What was I to say to that? That one was unlikely to rest well when faced with the specter of their own death? Surely he had to know that. Uncertain of what to say, I remained silent.
Ahearn rose and lifted the tray of dirty dishes. “There is a change of clothes in the bathroom, along with a new toothbrush,” he said casually. “Why don’t you shower and dress and meet me in the parlor? Then we’ll start our day.”
In the bathroom, I showered quickly, wrapping a towel around my body before looking for the clothes he’d left. Where I’d assumed it would be ceremonial garb of some sort, I found myself looking at a fleece tracksuit that I knew Ahearn had outgrown at least a decade before. Shrugging to myself, I brushed my teeth and pulled it on. It wasn’t as though I truly had many options other than simply humoring Ahearn until he was ready to end the farce and carry out my sentence.
It wasn’t long before I realized that nowhere in Ahearn’s plan was a quick and painless death; it seemed I was to suffer before I died. Notphysically,of course.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
Which I’d dare to say was actually worse.
When I returned to the parlor, he was again holding a cup of steaming tea as he had the night before. When I accepted it, he smiled broadly and ushered me over to the sofa where a pile of books were stacked on the coffee table.
Scrapbooks.
Mypregnancyscrapbooks, to be specific. How he’d found them up in the recesses of the dusty old attic he’d always refused to enter, I couldn’t guess. As for why he had dragged them down and dusted them off? I couldn’t think of any reason other than to hurt me.
“I asked you about our past,” he reminded me. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d had other pregnancies?”
I couldn’t begin to find the words to respond and Ahearn seemed to tire of waiting. Sitting on the sofa next to me, he flipped the first one open. It was from nineteen-fifty-three, three years after our bonding ceremony.
“Tell me about this one,” he instructed as he flipped through the pages.
“It was my first surrogacy,” I choked out. “We, um, I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was lucky. It was a simple pregnancy and everything went well.”
Ahearn cocked his head. “Are any of them ours? Do we have any children together?”
The strangeness of him asking me such a question was overwhelming. I shook my head, unsure how much to say. “No. When we asked permission to marry, we had to agree to help with the procreation of our species.” I sipped from my tea. “We agreed that if I was a suitable candidate, I would carry five pregnancies for couples who needed assistance before considering starting our own family.”
Ahearn raised a brow. “Why didn’t I simply donate sperm?”
I stared at my hands. “Your father would not have approved. He’s very, ah, protective over the purity of your family line.”
“Is that why we hadn’t told him about our union?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “You weren’t very close to your family and, as we’d already decided to move to the United States, you didn’t see the point in causing a fuss.”
“I see.” Ahearn flipped through the scrapbook, commenting on some pictures and asking questions about others until we reached the cheerful cartoon elephant inside the back cover announcing the album complete.
I said a silent prayer that Ahearn had become bored, but he set it aside and reached for album number two.
It looked to be the start of a very long and emotionally draining morning.
