Chasing His Rejected Wife
Chapter 64 -

Jessica

My luck held for a while. Once I explained to an assistant that I had arrived early because my flight had been moved an hour earlier than scheduled and was hoping Dr. Bernard would agree to see me sooner, I was shown into his waiting room, which was empty at the moment.

"I'll see if the doctor is amenable to the change," The assistant, a young man in his early twenties informed me in a crisp, southern accent and left me alone. I took a seat, too strung up to notice much about the room. The seat I was on, though, was comfortable, and soothing classical music played through some invisible speakers. My stomach had begun to hurt, likely from all the vomiting and dry heaving from earlier, but I was also worried about the state of the babies. I rubbed my belly with both hands, my eyes smarting from fresh tears. "Please be okay, you two," I whispered, looking down at my little bulge. "You're all I've got, the only ones I can trust."

I sighed and my eyes drifted shut, squeezing out a trail of tears that ruined my carefully applied makeup. Right now, it felt like the whole world had turned against me, each person pursuing their own agenda. Julian with his obsession with preserving his reputation, my mother using people to get what she wanted and Aiden sacrificing his love and happiness just to protect his father and the family.

It was overwhelming and I felt like I had just been tossed feet-first into an ocean and expected to swim against the slide.

I looked up, my anxiety ratcheting as quick footsteps approached. My heart rate quickened and my whole body tensed as I waited for the door to open.

"Mrs. Brown?" A tall, distinguished-looking man wearing glasses and hospital scrubs walked into the room. I let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't Aiden who had come barging in. The man crossed over to me, hand outstretched. "I'm Dr. Bernard, a pleasure to meet you."

I pushed back my trepidation and got to my feet, putting my hand in his. His handshake was firm, but not crushing. "Pleasure to meet you too. Please call me Jessica. I apologize for disrupting your schedule, but umm...my flight got pushed forward..."

He waved away my excuses. "It's fine. The good news is that I can fit you in for the tests right away as I had a client cancellation."

I smiled, relieved. "That's good news, indeed," I hesitated and asked uncertainly, "How long do these tests usually take on average?"

"About forty minutes. An hour on the outside chance of some unexpected delay." He adjusted his glasses and glanced around, a puzzled frown on his face. "Are you alone? I thought Dr. Strand mentioned that you would be coming with your husband?"

I laughed nervously and tensed up again. "Something came up and he couldn't make it."

He looked surprised but said nothing more about that. "Well, then. In that case, we should get started so you don't miss your flight."

He gestured for me to precede him from the room. I managed a small smile, feeling guilty for all the lies I'd told. He handed me over to a nurse who led me to change into a hospital gown and do some preliminary blood work. Then Dr. Bernard started on the tests.

True to his word, we were done in under forty minutes. And good news was there was still no sign of Aiden.

Dr. Bernard had more good news for me.

"The babies will be fine," He told me, looking satisfied with himself. "The tests show that so far, there's no amniotic deficiency - that's when one fetus is deprived of nutrients. To stop any future complications, you will be placed on medication to boost your own system so the babies can benefit.'

Done with that, I left the clinic as quickly as I could and hailed a cab to take me to the airport. On the ride there, I checked my phone, wincing at the dozen and more calls and texts, all from Aiden. I didn't open any of the texts or voicemails, because I knew it would be too much, and I would tip over the edge into some sort of desperate insanity. Still, I didn't have the heart to just ignore Aiden and let him stew in anxiety, no matter his culpability. He was as much a victim of our parent's manipulations as I was.

Besides, I didn't want him reporting my supposed disappearance to the police, because that would be a whole other shit show.

With a resigned sigh, I quickly typed out a text to him.

ME: I'm sorry to leave like this. I'm okay, don't worry. I'll contact you soon.

It wasn't enough of an explanation, but it would have to do until I was ready to face him again.

My phone screen instantly lit up with Aiden's call, but I turned off my phone with a grimace. Guilt ate a hole through my conscience, as I thought about how frantic and worried Aiden must be to replace me gone. I quickly pushed away that thought, unwilling to let myself wallow in my wrongdoing.

*****

Four hours later, I was in another taxi, driving through an exclusive neighborhood, filled with mansions and luxury cars. The yellow cab pulled up in front of a set of massive black gates, set off from the main street. I got out and paid the fare, then marched up to those gates. I whipped off the sunglasses I'd bought at the airport to hide my reddened eyes and squinted up at the pair of cameras mounted atop the electric fence.

I made sure that whoever was on the other end got a good look at me, before slipping my glasses back on. Even though the sun had gone down, the sweltering heat still remained.

Unaccustomed to the heat, I was soon uncomfortable, sweating profusely, even though I had sensibly changed into a light summer dress. My hair had gone limp, strands clinging to my face and neck and my skin felt like a thousand fire ants were crawling all over. They made me wait for seventeen minutes before the gates swung open, granting me access. I pursed my lips, arranged myself with as much dignity as I could muster, and stalked up the driveway, towing my suitcase behind me.

Halfway up, a guard driving a golf cart offered me a ride and I clambered on, silently grateful to be off my aching feet.

"Is she here?" I asked as the guard set the cart into motion once more.

"Yes, Ma'am."

I nodded and stared ahead as the mansion rolled into view. It was built in the modern style, with white, clean lines with big glass windows. My mother was waiting for me in the living room, dressed in a casual black silk house robe, but her makeup and hair were perfectly done. Her expression was languid, mildly curious as to my unexpected visit.

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"Jessica!" she exclaimed in faux delight. "What a nice surprise. Why on earth didn't you call and let me know you were in LA? I would have sent someone to pick you up from the airport, instead of enduring all that heat." She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of one of the windows and shuddered, then cast a critical eye over my rumpled appearance. "You look horrible, by the way. But I'm not surprised, you are rather hopeless at being presentable." Under normal circumstances, I would be flustered by her criticism. But right now, I was filled with anger, a feeling that had been slowly building up over the hours I'd spent coming to Los Angeles.

My hands formed into fists and I pulled myself to my full height, leveling her with a glare, filled with the force of all my emotions. "How could you?"

Again, her eyebrow rose and she laughed dryly. "How could I what? You'll have to be a bit more articulate, darling because I have no idea what you're talking about."

She rose, smoothing down her silk robe, and crossed to the bar to pour herself a drink from one of the bottles displayed on a lighted shelf.

"I know you've been blackmailing the Browns." I gritted out. Margaret paused in the process of lifting the glass to her lips and stared at me, nonplussed for a second.

But she quickly recovered. She chuckled and leaned against the polished surface of the bar, then took a sip of her drink.

"So, you found out about it. Who told you? It couldn't have been that husband of yours because he was very eager that you never found out about it." She chuckled again and inspected her finger, which was adorned with expensive gaudy rings on each finger. "Paid a fortune to make sure I kept my mouth shut, how ironic that you still found out anyway."

It felt like I'd just been dealt with a fresh blow to the solar plexus. I'd always known that Margaret was self-centered and loved money more than the average person, but never in a million years could I have thought that she would stoop to blackmail.

"How could you do something like that?" I cried, my voice broken and raspy. "All these years, you've sunk your claws into Julian's neck and leeched off him. It's...you're evil."

Margaret's expression turned frosty. "I'm evil? No dear, I did all that to secure your future. If I hadn't done what I did, do you think you would have enjoyed all the privileges you did growing up? The Ivy League school? Your career? Your marriage to one of the wealthiest families in the country, setting you up for life?"

She slammed her glass down, the amber liquid splashing over her hand but she didn't care. "You should be thanking me, you ungrateful girl. Your father never gave a fuck about you, didn't care if you rotted away. In fact, he asked me to give you up for adoption or leave you in some public place if I felt I couldn't look after you."