The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): A Surprise Pregnancy Romance (The Heir’s Series 5)
The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 59

Rich Oaks

I’m jolted awake by my phone ringing.

It’s Heather.

Why is she calling this early?

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I answer with a groggy, ‘Hey girl?’

‘Aww, did I wake you? You’re still sleeping,’ she says, sounding sorry.

‘It’s fine, let’s chat,’ I say, trying to shake off sleep.

She’s apologetic. ‘So sorry to disturb you.’

‘No worries,” I say. “I was about to get up anyway. My alarm’s set to go off soon.’

‘Hey,’ I mumble, stretching out my limbs under the comforter. ‘Was about to rise anyway.’

‘Is Duke there with you?’ Heather’s voice carries a note of urgency.

‘No,’ I reply, a bit too quickly.

‘Why? You guys didn’t sleep together?’ She sounds surprised.

‘Not exactly. He had some stuff to do, and ended up crashing in the living room. He came in really late,’ I explain, the tension from last night still lingering in my mind.

‘Oh, okay. So, how are you holding up?’ she tries to steer the conversation.

I pause, the sting of Duke’s betrayal still raw. ‘I’m doing okay, thank God.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ she says.

I ask about everyone back at the estate, curious and missing them.

‘They’re all great, missing you,’ she replies warmly.

I feel a surge of homesickness. ‘I miss them too,’ I admit.

‘People were asking about you at the ceremony,’ she tells me.

I’m touched. ‘Aww, that’s sweet.’

‘We told them you’re tied up with work,’ she adds, always looking out for me.

I’m grateful. ‘Thanks for covering for me.’

Then her tone softens. ‘I called to let you know I’ve been praying for you guys.’

Her words warm my heart but really didn’t need it. ‘Thank you, Heather. That means a lot.’

She sounds hopeful. ‘I’m praying everything goes well with the tests today, so you can start the process soon.’

‘Me too,’ I say quickly.

‘I have faith this is going to work out for you,’ she says confidently.

‘Same here.”

The sheets feel cool as I reluctantly pull away, every muscle screaming for a few more minutes of rest. But I know lying there won’t erase the events or the feelings coursing through me.

Stepping into the living area, the morning sun washes over the room. The terrace door stands slightly ajar, revealing Duke, hunched over his laptop. The sunlight paints him in soft gold, making him seem almost angelic. Funny how deceiving looks can be.

‘Morning?’ My voice comes out unsure, almost hesitant.

He looks up, our eyes locking. ‘Morning, honey,’ he says, and there’s this warmth in his voice that stirs something inside me.

I just stand there, taking him in. The man in front of me is both the Duke I’ve loved deeply and the stranger who hurt me. My heart’s in this vice grip of pain and confusion. He’s right there, and part of me wants to run into his arms and believe every word he says. But then there’s this hurt, this deep cut from his betrayal, making it hard to just let go and trust. I’m caught in this storm of love and hurt, not sure which way to turn.

I slide a plate of muffins across the kitchen island to Duke, taking a deep breath to calm the storm inside me. ‘Made these yesterday. They’re still good,’ I say, my voice quivering just a bit.

Duke takes a bite, nodding in approval. ‘They’re good,’ he says, his gaze fixed on the muffin but I sense there’s more he wants to say.

‘Yeah,’ I reply, masking the ache in my heart.

He looks at me, a hint of something soft in his eyes. ‘I like them. Thanks.’ I glance at the clock, feeling the pressure of time.

‘We need to head out soon, in about fifteen minutes,’ I tell him, adding, ‘But no rush, okay?’

‘Aisling…’ Duke starts, and I feel this knot tighten in my chest.

‘Yeah?’ I brace myself.

He looks serious, his voice filled with something like resolve. ‘If this cycle doesn’t work, I’m ready to step back for years. I want us to do things we love, things we’ve missed.’

His words hang there, heavy and full of meaning. I just stand there, my face a mask of neutrality, but inside, the hurt from his betrayal is like a blaze I can’t put out.

Yet, I keep it hidden.

He goes on, ‘I’ve said I’d choose you first, and I mean it. That’s my plan for April.’ But I can’t replace the words to respond. His promises linger in the silence, but the pain inside me is too loud, drowning everything else out.

‘I think, if it doesn’t happen for us now, we’ll still have each other. I dream of us traveling the world, Aisling,’ he says, pausing to gauge my reaction. I’m just staring at him, my heart racing, the sting of his betrayal choking me.

‘You’re not saying anything, Aisling,’ he notes after a moment.

‘I don’t know what to say, Duke. Whatever you think is best,’ I respond, making no eye contact.

‘What?’ He’s puzzled, taken aback.

‘You’re in charge of your life,’ I say.

‘Aisling, this is about us,’ he insists.

‘Well…’ I’m at a loss for words.

He reaches out, takes my hand, and I have to fight the urge to pull away. ‘Aisling, I swear, I haven’t cheated on you. I haven’t been with anyone else since we got married,’ he says, his eyes desperate for me to believe him.

‘Please, don’t, Duke. I can’t handle this right now,’ I whisper, feeling tears threatening to break free.

He wraps me in his arms, pulling me close against him. His eyes are full of pain as they meet mine. ‘Why can’t you believe me?’ His voice cracks with emotion.

‘I didn’t ask for explanations, Duke. Just keep them to yourself,’ I say, the hurt and betrayal overwhelming me. I break free from his hold, needing space, needing air. ‘We need to leave now.’