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Justin had made good on his promise and had enlisted both Lisa and Phumsile's aid in ensuring that she took her vitamins and rested enough... but that was the only promise he kept. A month passed with barely any word from him, his phonecalls, the few that came, were rushed and impersonal and barely lasted three minutes each time.
When Isabella tried to contact him, he was never available, or so the cold female voices on the other end of the line told her. She had no choice but to take them at their word.
She kept track of Justin's movements through the news; online, televised and printed, his father's death and Justin's subsequent taking over of an empire were pretty hot news items and barely a day went by that it wasn't mentioned in some form of news.
There had been paparazzi coverage of the funeral, despite the media ban the family had put on proceedings, some intrepid photographer had managed to get a picture of Justin standing over his father's open grave, his face closed up tighter than a fist, flanked by his mother and by Clara who had stood with her hand woven through his arm, offering the support of a lover, the support a wife would offer.
A lot had been written about that photograph, a lot of cynical criticism had been aimed at his cold, absent wife and a lot of praise for the stoic Clara who stood by him through thick and thin.
No word about her difficult pregnancy which made travel nearly impossible for her. A few local reporters had contacted her, wanting her "side of the story" and her refusal to be interviewed or offer any comment had merely added fuel to the fodder that she was unfeeling and cold.
The media, when given free rein, were ruthless. For the most part they left her alone, content to write what they wanted and in every article the beautiful, vivacious Clara was lauded for her unwavering and loving support, while the "plain and anti-social" Isabella was criticised for her seeming neglect of her husband in his time of need.
She sighed quietly, as she stared out at the heavy downpour, missing Justin so much it hurt and wishing that she could just talk with him. The baby moved restlessly and she winced slightly as a tiny foot caught her just beneath the ribs. She sang a quiet lullaby and ran her hands over the mound of her stomach. She was feeling her burden more and more with each passing day and it was getting increasingly difficult just to make it through the day.
"Isabella?" The quiet voice coming from behind her made her jump nearly out of her skin and she yelped before turning to face Lisa and Rick both of whom stood framed in the doorway of the den.
"God, you startled me," she gasped as they stepped into the room, neither cracking a smile, both looking relentlessly grim. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"
