When Mary had walked down the Isle nearly two years ago, she never would have thought that it would end as it did. Not with a grand love affair behind them, nor a tragic end, but with the stroke of a pen, and for that to be that. Not with damp cheeks and a broken heart, but she knows the first step is the hardest, and that this must be done.
"Mary, please." Francis begs, but it is of little use now. The papers have been signed, and there is nothing either of them can do to reverse what has been done. "Please, we can work through this." He says, his voice imploring, his eyes large, begging for her to listen, as his hand closes around her bicep.
"What is there to work through, Francis?" Mary questions, meeting his eyes in a sudden shoot of bravery. "Francis, I can't live my life how you want me to live it. I cannot live with you and be married to you and raise yours and Lola's child, while my arms and womb are just as empty as each other. Jean-Philippe is not my key to motherhood, nor should he be. He is not mine, and I will not live my life locked away in our room or living in separate houses, pretending you do not have a living, breathing son. That isn't fair to him, you, or me."
Francis inhales deeply, shaking his head. "Please, my love. It doesn't have to be like that, I know it. We can go to therapy, counselling, anything. To heal us, make us right again, how we used to be. I know we can make it happen, become a proper family for us and Jean and the children we will have." The heir to Valois-Angoulème Productions begs, uncaring of the people staring at them, undoubtedly recognising both from the news reports. And the public knows everything, don't they? About the true paternity of Jean-Philippe Atoirs, Lola and Francis' one night together before the wedding that united Valois-Angoulème and Stuart, the billion dollar dynasties that has nearly been undone by the two bastardy scandals, not to mention Henry's frivolities in times of crisis in and of themselves.
"It will not happen, Francis. You know that. I cannot give you a child, just as you cannot give me one. It will be a cruel punishment on us both to pretend that a child will come for us. But you have one, do you not? It will be easier for us both if I do this now, to walk away now as opposed to in five years time when we hate each other and I resent the shit out of you and an innocent toddler." Mary sighs, pulling back the wrist he had grabbed. He lets her go, and tears spring to his eyes. Beautiful, blue eyes that she could have spent the rest of her life gazing into.
"Mary, please." Francis begs. The whisper hurts her, as it must do to him, but she has to be strong.
"Francis, what do you think will happen if I stay? What can therapy do for us, therapy cannot take away that night, therapy cannot take away the existence of your son, therapy cannot make my blood run through his veins. It's not as if Lola is dead or uncaring or a birth mother, she is present and has raised him for two years. Two years now, she has known the truth, and let poor Remy love a child that it not his. He cannot stay, and neither can I. It's not fair to Jean, to have two unhappy stepparents who wish this was not their life. He deserves happy parents, and I deserve to have my first child, if I should ever be allowed to have one, be with a partner who has never ran this course before. I do not want to be a stepparent, Francis. I cannot do it, I can't give love and raise a child that calls another mother. And he should, because Lola is his mother, not me. And you are his father, you deserve to be called Papa, no matter who bore you a child. This is what you've always wanted, and now you have it. I cannot and will not ask you to give it up for me. This is why I have to walk, because no matter how much I love and adore you, this is what needs to be done." Mary feels her cheeks grow wet with her speech, and she clings frantically to this strength, because no matter how much she wants to fall into his arms and kiss him and love him, she needs this more. They both do, they deserve to live their lives free from complication and regret and what could have beens and what was'.
"I want a child to call me Papa, and for him to call you Mama." Francis bring her close, and she has to close her eyes and lower her head. He speaks so quietly, and her heart hurts with every word. "I want to wake up next to you, hold your pregnant belly and have you crush my hand as you push our son into the world. I want to kiss your head as you hold our newborn daughter, I want to cry with you as our children take their first steps, I want it all, Mary. And I want it with you." He brings her close. "Jean-Philippe does not need me, he has Lola and he has Remy. I have never held him, I've never felt him kick in the womb, he is Remy's son. I didn't even know until the secret was exposed a week ago. And yet, I cannot see him as my son. A distant nephew, a cousin, but not a son. Never a son, because all I want is to be a family with you. To share a life, to have you be the mother of my children. He cannot be my son because he does not see me as a father, when he calls for his Papa, it is Remy who he stretches his arms to. I will pay the money they want, child support or whatever, but I cannot be a father to him. Because I love you, and because we deserve to be a family, with all the boring domesticity and beautiful chaos it brings. Do not give up on us, Mary. Because I never will."
(/)
300 Oneshots! We did it everybody!
YOU ARE READING
You Are My Light Part II
Historical Fiction-Reign Oneshots/Taking Requests- The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light. Part 2! -Read TEML first!-
