Chapter 49
Chapter 49
Chapter 49 HAZEL (PRESENT TIME) There’s a subtle shift in Ravel’s demeanor, an unusual display of vulnerability that belies his usual stoicism. I couldn’t ignore the faint sound of his sniffling, a telltale sign that something was amiss. Despite our past disagreements, I felt an undeniable urge to set those aside and delve into what was troubling him. “Ravel,” I ventured softly, the concern evident in my voice. “Are you… crying?” A brief chuckle escaped his lips, carrying a hint of nostalgia. “It’s been ages since you used that nickname, Rav,” he admitted, his voice laced with emotion. My intention had been to coax out his worries, but instead, it seemed I had tapped into a well of sentiments I hadn’t anticipated. Swearing softly under my breath, I couldn’t ignore the urgency in my desire to be there for Ravel. “Just send me your hotel address,” I insisted, my determination to support him growing stronger. There was a part of me that believed he might be more open if we were face to face, away from the constraints of digital communication. “Ravel?” His sudden silence after my offer made me second-guess my words. “If you’re not comfortable with me coming over…” “It’s quite late,” his voice finally broke the silence, and I tried to suppress any feelings of sadness or disappointment that crept in. “Send me your address, and I’ll come meet you.” A pang of mixed emotions tugged at me. I knew he was aware of my address; after all, he had sent me those flowers on our last wedding anniversary. I would have easily told him to come over had Daisy’s pictures not filled my hallway.. “How about we meet at the exhibition venue?” I suggested, my voice tentative yet hopeful. “I could assist you with those last-minute details.” “Is there someone else with you?” His unexpected question left me momentarily baffled, his words stirring up confusion. “I can tell you’re not keen on having me over at your place, so I’m just curiousExclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.
about the reason behind it.” As I discerned the faint sounds of movement in the background, it became apparent that he was preparing himself, likely for our impending meeting. Taking a cue from his actions, I began to quickly change into something more appropriate for our encounter.
I’d rather not have you here,” I responded honestly, “This space is personal to me, and I’d rather keep it that way, no offense intended.” A soft chuckle escaped him, carrying an air of understanding. “No offense taken, sweetheart. I’d much rather you not want me in your home than to imagine you having company over there at this hour.” “Ravel, don’t push yourluck,” I cautioned, a slight edge to my tone. His short burst of laughter managed to break through my seriousness, eliciting a genuine smile. “I’ll catch up with you later, Ravel.” With that, I ended the call, grabbing my jacket and car keys before heading out the door. As I made my way towards my car, my phone buzzed again, this time with a call from David. I answered, a hint of curiosity in my voice. “David?” “You’re still awake?” His question was laced with surprise. “I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d take a chance to see if you were still up. It seemed like sleep was evading everyone tonight. “Is there something you need help with?” I offered, my voice tinged with concern. He chuckled playfully. “Hazel, you shouldn’t ask a man such a question; you’ll set our minds wandering.” Uncertain how to respond to that, I chose to remain silent. “Anyway, how about we meet up for coffee?” David’s proposal caught me off guard, and I hesitated for a moment, Chapter 49 contemplating his offer. “Sorry, David, but that won’t work for me,” I replied, my voice tinged with regret. “I’ve got a few things to
catch up on, and I think it’s better if I stay back and focus on them.” The lie slipped out so easily, and although I couldn’t explain the reason behind it, it felt oddly fitting in the moment. “Apologies, David.” He seemed to take it in stride. “No worries,” he assured me, his tone understanding. “If you need any assistance, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m happy to help with whatever’s keeping you awake.” “No!” I found myself blurting out, my response more forceful than intended. The abruptness of my reaction sent a pang of worry through me-had I given away more than I intended? “It’s really late, David. You should get some rest to be productive at the office tomorrow. Let’s catch up later.” Without waiting for his reply, I ended the call. A soft chuckle escaped me as I sat behind the wheel, feeling slightly foolish for spitting such lies. I eased the car into motion, embarking on the journey to the exhibition. The drive took over an hour, and as I approached the venue, I spotted Ravel standing outside, his presence drawing me in. I parked the car, stepped out, and joined him. He greeted me with a fleeting embrace, a touch that spoke volumes in its simplicity. “You changed your perfume,” he observed, his keen awareness causing a hint of surprise to flutter within me. “The perfume wasn’t the only thing that changed,” I replied, the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air between us. So much had shifted since our last encounter, not least of which was the existence of a daughter he remained unaware of. “Shall we head inside?” I suggested, a slight shiver passing through me. The chill in the air cut through my jacket, reminding me that it wasn’t quite enough to ward off the cold. Ravel nonchalantly shrugged off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders, a gesture that carried an air of familiarity. “I guess some things never change,” he remarked, his words invoking a shared history. Memories of times when I had underestimated the weather and he had come to my rescue flooded back. I glanced at him, a mixture of appreciation and concern in my eyes. “Aren’t you feeling cold?” I couldn’t help but worry about his well-being, given the chilly weather. “Please don’t catch a cold because of me.” His chuckle held a hint of amusement. “No need to fret, I’ll manage.” With a gentle touch at my waist,
he guided me towards the entrance of the building. “The jewelry pieces are scheduled to arrive the night before the event,” he explained, revealing his plans. “I’ll be overseeing security measures throughout the night to ensure there’s no risk of theft.” “Interesting,” I responded, intrigued by his preparations. “And about the runway, you’re using models instead of stone curves?” “It sounds like that choice might come with a higher price tag,” I commented, noting the potential financial implications of using models for the event. Ravel simply shrugged, pausing in the middle of the hall. “I felt like trying something different for a change,” he explained, his casual demeanor suggesting he was open to experimentation. It was a sentiment I agreed with; after witnessing the impact of his press conference, it was clear that unconventional choices could capture attention and generate buzz. “Ravellux has never used models before, so this will be a first.” My nod conveyed my approval of his decision. “I think the change is a great idea,” I told him, a genuine smile forming as I spoke. “Is Elenor going to be one of the models?” I inquired, aware of their somewhat strained relationship. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she chose not to participate. Ravel’s response was laced with a mix of amusement and frustration. “She’s actually opening the show, along with a few other high-end models we’ve hired. And believe it or not, despite being my sister, that crazy woman charged me double her normal rate.” Biting my lips to lock the smile in, I stared at the numbering of the seats. “I guess I got the front seat.” He approached me and stood next to me his shoulder grazing mine. “Contrary to what you think, you always come first Hazel.” I highly doubt that. Keeping my thoughts to myself, I took a few steps away from him, creating some space between Chapter 49 us. Ravel stared emptily at the space I once occupied. “if someone ever told me that you will be eager to get away from, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
Why is he talking as if I caused this? “you gave up on us first Ravel, never you forget that. You got away from me first.” “And would you believe me if I told you that I regret it?” he whispered, gradually closing the space between us again. “Would believe me if I told you that I go to bed filled with regret and I wake up every morning with the same regret?” you I searched his gaze, looking for any emotion that will give away the deception in his words, but I found nothing but intense vulnerability, yet I chose not to believe him. “If you regret it so much, why did you do it?” Finally looking away, he stared at his shoes. “Regrets come after the action.” He stated. I guess he is right. The act needs to be committed first for regret to follow. “Your regret changes nothing, Ravel. you broke my trust, ruined our marriage, and ended it yourself. That fact will always remain unchanged.” Only a step away from me, he reached for my hand and I let him grab it. “What if I’m willing to make amend?” Surprised by his words, I blinked up at him, trying my best not to stare at his lips. “What do you mean by that?” “What if I am willing to fight for your love and affection once again?” he wetted his lips, “what if I am willing to do anything to have you in my life again as my wife?”