The Widower (18+) | [Complete]

Twenty

We stayed in a swanky suite on the top floor of a hotel I couldn't pronounce. The room was the size of a mansion, fitted with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a sprawling living room, and a full kitchen. The floors were wall-to-wall porcelain tile so white they were glaring when the sun shone through them. I spent half of my time staring through the wall of windows that looked over the city. At night, our view was a sea of high-rises that shimmered like stars above the red glow of the streets far below.

We hadn't gone out much since we arrived—even if the city wasn't densely populated and difficult for an American to navigate alone, jet lag was brutal on children. Matthew was moodier than usual, both he and the twins were cranky from being denied sleep when they wanted and told to wake before they were ready.

The hotel had a pool, two restaurants, and every other amenity we could need to occupy our time, but with Sebastian anxious at the mere thought of going into a crowd, Tabitha and Matthew in a mood, and Augustine focused over his upcoming deal, I could barely breach the subject of taking an outing to unwind. It seemed all of us had yet to enjoy this vacation.

"Happy birthday, Tabby and Bastian. Happy birthday to you!" I sang to them in the restaurant while Matthew continued to scowl. They blew out the candle on a small tart decorated with glistening, candied fruits. They probably wouldn't like it, but Augustine did not seem to care. His eyes had barely left his phone the whole meal.

I wasn't sure why I had expected anything to be different. Beijing was noisy, dense, tall—a world away from the one I was used to, and yet nothing felt different. Until I tried to speak to someone, at least. Only Augustine could manage that.

The check came finally, and Augustine hardly batted an eye as he tucked in his black card. I peeked before he closed it, and almost choked when I saw the amount.

He barely looked at the waiter, asking questions, or making a demand, it seemed. I had yet to pick up on any words or phrases except hello, goodbye, thank you, and yes. "Do you know how amazing it is that your father is fluent in Mandarin?" I asked Sebastian as he shoved an oversized bite of the tart into his mouth, leaving a portion of it on his cheek. He nodded. "You should ask him to teach you."

Sebastian looked up to him, but he didn't take notice. "I'm not fluent in Mandarin," he said as if he were scolding me. "After Sebastian's worked with Chinese businessmen for nearly twenty years, he'll have learnt it himself."

If he had set down his phone he would have seen the death glare I was sending his way.

He cleared his throat and tucked his phone into the breast pocket of his suit. "Happy birthday, my love," he said to Tabby, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. "And happy birthday, darling," he did the same to Bastian.

"Thank you, daddy!" Tabby gave him a big hug around the neck. His look of annoyance faded ever so slightly.

He stood and left the booth. "Be good for Ms. Aubrey."

"You're leaving already?" I asked him knowing we would not be able to leave the hotel again until he returned. "When will you be back?"

He looked down his nose at me with a look of annoyance I wanted to slap off his face. "I don't pay you to babysit me, Ms. Nielson. I will return when I return."

He would pay for that later.

. . .

The kids had gone to bed hours before, leaving Matthew and me on the couch. We attempted to watch MTV from beneath the plethora of Chinese captions and dubs. Eventually, he gave up and played his game, and when he decided we were done with that, retired to his bedroom without a word. "Goodnight," I said to him sarcastically. He gave me a wave then shut the door behind him.

I was left alone in the sprawling room, lost in a sprawling city I would probably never see. With that thought, I made my way to my bedroom as well.

I had been asleep for what seemed like hours when I was awoken by a crash, and "Shit!" followed by laughter.

I got up and walked into the main room, finding Augustine tilting back a bottle of wine in the kitchen, and a smashed vase on the floor near the entry. "You're back, I see." I stepped closer and smelled the alcohol radiating from him. "And you're drunk."

"Surprisingly so," he slurred before taking another swig from the bottle. "They drank me under the table! Half my size with twice my tolerance? Who'd have thought?" He smiled at me drunkenly and lifted the bottle to his lips again.  

"Yeah, you should stop drinking," I pried the bottle from his hand. 

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leaned in too close. His lips against my forehead when he snickered and said, "You've never heard of a nightcap, love?" 

Oh, how the tables had turned. I stood him upright. "You need to go to bed."

"Yes. Bed." He looked around the room. "Where is that exactly?"

I rolled my eyes at him then led him across the room. I opened it for him and made a grand gesture with my hands, pointing inside it.

"What? You're not going to join me?" he joked. Laughing at himself, he stumbled inside. "Can you at least help me undress?"

"I'm not paid to babysit you, Mr. Montgomery," I muttered under my breath. "Yes, if it will get you to go to sleep."

I helped him unlace his expensive Louboutins. He laid back on the bed, giggling to himself. "They took me to a strip club," he said as if I asked. "These women—if you can call them that—were upside down on poles, spinning around like little tops. Completely nude. Which would have been lovely if they didn't look like teenagers." He gasped. "Were they teenagers?"

I shook my head at him. "Do society a favor and never get drunk again," I said. With a groan, I pulled off his second shoe.

"Should I feel bad that I let one give me a lap dance? Daddy issues and all?"

I unfastened his belt and pulled it from the belt loops beneath him. "When have daddy issues ever stopped you?"

He looked off into the distance. "Maybe I helped her pay for college." He pondered his statement for a moment then he tossed his head back and laughed absurdly.

"Go to sleep, white devil," I murmured.

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me between his legs. "Don't leave yet. Not before a little fun." He gripped my ass with both hands and ran his tongue slowly up the side of my neck. Even drunk he was a brat. "I've been bad," he growled. "Sit on my face as punishment, mistress?"

I pushed him to his back. He grinned at me as if he were receiving some reward. "Get. Some. Sleep." I made my way toward the door.

"Lara always thought me charming whilst we were drinking," he murmured, stopping me in my tracks. "Until I had too much. Then she said I was an arsehole." I agreed, but the mention of her name put me at a loss for words. I turned back to look at him. He was still lying on his back. "That's one of the things that made me fall for her. Nothing could keep her from smiling. Not me, not the pain, not being ill, nothing."

The room was eerily silent after his words. For a moment, I wasn't sure if he said something or if I just imagined it.

Finally, he took a deep breath. I thought I had lost him to sleep before he said, "I miss her." The light coming through the window traced the lines of his furrowed brow and made the tear sparkle as it rolled down the side of his face.

Seeing his emotion made my heart shatter into pieces. I had seen that kind of pain before and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. "I know you do," I whispered. 

"Do you know why I like you, Aubrey?" he asked without wanting an answer. He turned his head to look at me. "It's because you're nothing like her."

I stared at him trying to figure out whether I had more contempt for him or pity. "Goodnight, Augustine," I told him, but he was already asleep.

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