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Iparked outside Elsa’s bakery and saw her in Thierry’s arms through the open window. She was crying, and it shattered me.
Was this love? This feeling of being crushed because I couldn't comfort her? I hated that she was hurting. I hated that I knew I caused her pain. Maybe Dean was right; maybe this was love. I didn't give a shit what label you put on it; what I did know was that Elsa wasmywoman, and I had let her down.
I felt like the biggest failure in the world. She'd asked menotto use her like her father, and I’d done just that. When she'd looked at me, silently asking me to defend her, and I hadn't, I didn't just break her; I broke myself, too.
Elsa stepped away from Thierry and smiled.
He was with her, making her smile, giving her the support I failed to provide. As I watched them together, something deep within me shifted.
I realized, with a clarity that both unsettledandcomforted me, that I was in love with Elsa. I had been scared, terrified of getting hurt, and that fear had made me push her away, doubt her, and ultimately betray her. The force of that realization settled heavily on my shoulders, but it also brought a strange sense of relief. Admitting the truth was the first step toward fixing the mess I'd made.
I resolved to seek counsel from the one person I knew would give it to me straight—my mother, who was staying at my apartment while visiting Paris.
"Guillaume, to the Avenue Montaigne," I said softly to my driver.
He probably thought I'd lost my shit, asking him every night to park right where I could watch my wife for a couple of hours while she got ready to close down Délices d'Elsa; and then again in the morning at the butt crack of dawn to watch her open.
I couldn't stay away from Elsa. I watched her belly grow and hated that I didn't have the right, had lost it, in fact, to touch her and feel our child kick and thrive.
I felt the tears before I even registered them, watching as Guillaume drove away. I had lost my wife because I was the biggest fool in the world. After all the effort I'd put into protecting myself—only sleeping with women I paid to avoid emotional attachment—I finally gave my heart to a woman, only to end up hurting her. The realization hit me hard, flooding me with a self-loathing I’d never known. In that moment, I despised myself for what I’d done to Elsa, the woman with the biggest heart, the woman carrying my child, and, damn it, my everything.
I told Guillaume I'd call him when I was ready to go back to the Ritz.
I took the elevator up to my apartment and found Mom in the living room, a book in her lap and a glass of wine on the table next to her. She looked up as I walked in, her sharp gaze immediately sizing me up.
"Well, now, you look like someone kicked your puppy," she greeted, closing her book.
"Mom," I breathed.
She patted the couch next to her. I kissed her cheek and slouched down next to her, running a hand through my hair.
"Well?"
"I fucked up," I told her.
She smirked. "I heard."
"From?"
"Thierry and Dean. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they were lovers. But I do know better. Thierry is straight even if Dean isn't."
My brother was bisexual. It wasn't news to anyone in our family. However, people were always surprised to find that Dean had had both male and female companions.
"They have become friends," I admitted.
"They take care of Elsa."
I smiled wanly. "Yeah, Mom, they do."
"Especially since you're not," she quipped.
"I fucked up," I repeated.
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.
"I hurt her, badly," I confessed, feeling the truth of my words. "I didn't believe her or in her. And now I realize I'm in love with her, but I might have ruined everything so even if I told her, I don't think she'llbelieveme."
Mom's gaze softened just a fraction. "You've always been suspicious, Duncan. You only let family through your defenses.You accepted Emiliabecauseshe married Damian. But with Elsa…."
