Arianne's Path to Happiness

CHAPTER THREE

“What are you doing here?” I demand my undoing from the past stitches itself back up as years of bitterness bubble back up to the surface.

Saint takes his time, looking around my cafe, giving away no emotion. “I love what you’ve built for yourself here.”

I look away and scoff, keeping Christopher down. “Go play in the backroom, okay? You can take some waffles, mummy will soon be done, mmh?”

“Okay, mummy.” Chris obediently obliges and goes to the backroom but not without shooting one last look at Saint with a brief adjustment of his glasses.

“What’s his name?” Saint inquires, gazing after Chris as he enters the backroom then fixes his stare at me. I will stay strong.

“Don’t act like you are unaware of the information.” I scoff at him, giving him a disdainful look. “Get it the exact way you got the information of where to find me or my bank details.”

Saint looks almost amused. “You figured.”

I am in disbelief, exasperated as I stare at him with every ounce of resentment in me for a few seconds.

“Oh yes, I figured, and what do you expect?” I ask. “That I grovel and thank you for assisting my oh-so-pathetic existence? I don’t need your pity. I am doing perfectly fine raising my child on my own.”

Saint silently sucks on his teeth as he regards me. “Do you believe I acted out of sympathy for you?"

“Oh, I know that’s why you did it. Beauregards do nothing but look down on people.” My throat is burning and my eyes are welling up but I can’t look pathetic in front of him. “Tear down every ounce of their happiness and dignity until there’s nothing left.”

I see a lot of things flickering across Saint’s face, but he does a damn good job of getting them back in check, his stoic demeanor coming back on.

“What Luke did–” He begins but gets cut off as the backroom door creaks open and Christopher’s little face appears in the crack

“Mummy?” He asks and I sense the fear and hesitation in his voice and I internally curse at myself for raising my voice.

I sniff and smile at him. “Everything’s fine, honey. Mummy will be there soon.”

He stays for a second then closes the door.

Taking a deep breath, I exhale with a small shake of my head, trying to reel in my emotions. “What do you want from me, Saint?”

I give him a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow as he utters "Something absurd.” I pause, waiting for him to elaborate when what I should be doing at this moment is showing him the door.

He doesn’t, seeming to be turning over options in his head. So I prod. “Well?”

“Let’s get married.”

What?

He’s right. It’s absurd. Extremely absurd and I let out a laugh in disbelief as I stare at him incredulously.

“Is there a history of insanity in your family that I don’t know about?” I ask, knowing damn well that was disgustingly rude but at this moment, I’m too in disbelief to care.

He leans back to sit at a table behind him as he stares at me in silence, expecting an answer. That infuriates me.

“After six f*****g years, you came all this way to–” I ask. “You’re insane. Even more insane if you ever think I would agree to that.”

“Then I am insane,” Saint replies, his confidence enraging me further and making me laugh one more time.

“Saint, get out. I have no idea why I’m entertaining you.” I say, heading to the door to usher his exit.

“I can’t have children.” He says, making me stop in my tracks. He repeats, slowly this time. “I… can’t. And not because I don’t want to.”

I turn and see him still sitting in the same position I left him, and the pain in his side profile doesn’t seem like a faux. But it only confuses me more than ever because if he says he can’t have children, why come to me with that information?

“What does that have to do with me?”

Saint laughs humorlessly and faces me, tapping his fingers leisurely on the table. A habit I hate to be able to interpret as him being nervous.

“You'll loathe me if I tell you.”

I cross my arms. “Try me. I don’t think I can do any more than I do now.”

Saint flinches subtly at that.

My mind is still screaming at me to walk him out and forget this interaction ever existed. To remember that I walked out of that family for a perfectly valid reason. Screaming at me to not hear out whatever he wants to say.

But I’m curious. “If you say you can’t have children, what does that have to do with me?”

“Your son. He’s a continuation of the Beauregard bloodline.” He looks me in the eye, the reminder I see in them a bit disconcerting. “My mother’s a major shareholder in Beauregard Hospitality. And she says she’ll give me those shares in addition to the ones I already have, but only if I get married.”

I nod, feeling my heart crashing with each word he spoke. “Wow, I was wrong. I hate you even more.”

“I can’t get any lady pregnant, that's the reason I can't get married to any other woman.” Saint continues and I clench my teeth, pondering why I’m here listening to all this crazy talk. “So that means you are my only option. You have my brother’s child, a continuation of the bloodline.”

I’m in so much disbelief that I just stare blankly at the floor for a few seconds. “Of course. What else to expect from a Beauregard?”

“Certainly, there'll be benefits for you and your son.” He continues like I said nothing, and I just gaze at him.“For one, the expansion of The Hidden Bean, if it’s associated with Beauregard Hospitality, it’ll be good for business. And your son–”

“Not like you deserve to know, but his name is Christopher.”

“Christopher…” Saint says slowly, and I can swear I see his jaw clench for a millisecond. “Well, Christopher will get to be guaranteed heir of Beauregard Hospitality–”

“No, thank you. To your every ‘benefit’,” I say, giving him the most ungrateful smile I could muster. “We want nothing from the Beauregards.”

“Arianne, you’re being unreasonable.” Saint sounds exasperated, and you know what? Same.

I’m also done with the audacity of his ass coming in here with ridiculous talks of marriage and benefits. Am I being unreasonable? He’s the one that’s making me look like a charity case.

Did I ever tell him that I was struggling to raise my child? For him to get the audacity to list out ‘benefits’ for him like he’s doing me a great favor and I’m what? Too unreasonable to see him trying to help.

Well, f**k him

“Get out,” I say, speed-walking to the door to hold it open for him. “Get the f**k out and never contact us ever again; me or my son.”

“Arianne–”

“Get the f**k out, Saint.”

He stands and walks toward me, and the door. “I’m sorry this wasn’t the best approach.”

“No approach will ever be,” I assure him, c*****g my head outside.

“But in case you ever want to reconsider.” He drops his card on a table by the door. “Call me.”

“f**k you.”

Saint smiles and just as he gets to my side, he stops. “It was nice to see you again, Arianne.”

I don’t reply and I close and lock the door immediately he steps out instead. Then speed walk to the backroom to my son to avoid looking back.

Christopher looks up at me when I enter the storage room, still scanning through his picture book. I go straight to him and wrap him in a hug. He wraps his arms around me.

“Who was that, mummy?” He asks and I kiss his head.

“He’s nobody, honey,” I reply, ignoring the stab of pain in my heart as I say that. I need to stay strong for my son and protect him. “He’s nobody.”

No matter how much hurt I’m going to pass through in the process.