Strings Attached

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Isabelle's head fell on my chest and she let out a small sigh when I gently laid her body on the bed. The room was dark and she appeared to be so calm like she was at the verge of falling asleep, but I was aware that she was wide awake. The screen of my phone lit up and it started vibrating on the bed. I reached for it and walked to the living area to answer the call.

"Sir, is everything alright?" Emily's voice greeted me on the other side. "I've been trying to reach you for an hour, but all of my calls went straight to voicemail."

"Everything is fine, Emily," I said as calmly as I could. "I couldn't pick up because something urgent came up."

"Please don't tell me we have an escalation with another client."

"No, nothing like that. The matter is private," I confessed. "Did you manage to make some progress with the new plans?"

"We have a team of three people working on it via video call. They should finish in a couple of hours and send you an e-mail with the new results," Emily explained.

There was no way in hell I'd be twiddling my thumbs for hours and wait for their e-mail. I wanted to be involved in the process and make sure everything was done right. The negotiations with the client were already hanging by a thread. We couldn't afford to make another mistake.

"I think it would be best if I monitored their progress," I concluded. "Inform the team that I'm joining the call."

"Of course, Sir. I'll have them to contact you in a couple of minutes."

"No," I interjected. "I have to take care of something first. I'll let you know when I'm ready."

"I understand. I'm waiting for your call," Emily said and hung up the phone.

I knew I had to start working on the issue ASAP, but I also knew I wouldn't be able to focus on anything until I made sure Isabelle was alright. The thought she had spent the entire flight fearing that I would hurt her the moment we arrived to the hotel made me regret my omission to pay attention to her. Instead of reassuring her, I had ignored her and got wrapped up with work as usual. That would have to change. I had to become more attuned to her behavior. I had to learn how to read her better and anticipate her reactions to me. There wasn't an immediate way for me to fix things, but I wanted to do something that would show her I cared. I tried to think of some small token of affection to let her know she was special to me. 

My eyes darted towards the side table with a water heater and a wooden box filled with a rich variety of tea. As I walked to the table and started going through different tea bags, I sneered with irony at the fact that I had never made tea for anyone in my life, including myself. There were so many exotic flavors, but I had opted for plain chamomile. When we were children, Anne used to make it for us before we went to sleep so I knew it had a calming effect. I was hoping it would help Isabelle relax and put aside at least some of those scary thoughts that plagued her mind. 

The water was heating up and while I waited, I took the chance to change into something more comfortable. The fabric of my shirt was damp from Isabelle's tears and stained with traces of her ruined make-up. After putting on some pajama pants, I threw the white expensive shirt in the trash; not because it was unsalvageable, but for the simple fact that I couldn't stand to look at the evidence of my wife's sadness.

When I entered the bedroom, Isabelle was in the same position I had left her in and she didn't stir. However, I could feel her eyes watching my every move with unyielding vigilance. I was aware of the moment she realized I was holding a cup of tea in my hand because she wasn't quick enough to hide her surprise. She turned her head towards the window and gazed into the black night as if she couldn't process the sight of her husband doing something nice for her. I put the cup of steaming tea onto the nightstand and Isabelle's eyes sprang to my face. The depths of her sad hazel irises made my heart constrict with painful regret. I knew I had been a cruel bastard, but couldn't she see I was trying to change? The hesitant way in which she looked at me while I knelt down on her level told me she still didn't believe I had honest intentions.