Richard’s POV
The penthouse greets me with silence as the sound of my foot echoes against the marble floor.
Just before I can get to the foyer of the living room, my phone rings, breaking the stillness and quiet of the house.
Dumping my briefcase, I fish out the phone to see my mother's name flashing across the screen. I pick as I slouch on the sofa.
“Mom?”
“Are you home yet?” She asks with a concerned tone, making me wonder what could be wrong.
Our relationship over the years has gone from bad to worse to good. When my father died, she wanted me to take over his company, which I did. I did everything she wanted, including my choice of study, my university, and even marrying Arabel. I was a bad child then.
But when I divorced Arabel, our relationship became worse. We fought each time we met. She detests seeing me, so she said.
When she fell ill, I was at her bedside. I left the company and everything else to tend to her, which led to the downfall of my father's company. I cried every day, begging her to forgive me and to be well. I honestly thought I was going to lose her. I was already losing my mind.
As she became better, I stopped blaming myself, and we became friends again. I confided in her, and we began to search for Arabel, all to no avail.
Then I built my choice of company.
“The weather forecast says it's going to rain tonight. I just wanted to know if you are back home or not.”
“I'm home, don't worry about me," I reply with a smile, thankful for her concern. She always does this, even when I tell her not to.
I have pneumonia.
The trouble comes whenever it rains and a tiny drop of rain touches my skin. I can't remember the last time I let the rain touch me. I always tell her this. Even if it rains before I leave the office, I will surely use an umbrella.
When she falls silent after the show of concern, it dawns on me that she is definitely calling for something else.
“Are you free to talk?” She finally questions me, making me sit upright in anticipation.
“Yes, mom. Is everything okay? Do you want me to come over?”
“No. It's about Arabel. Have you guys been talking?”
I sigh heavily. “No. She is still pretending to be someone else.”
She remains silent again.
“Could she be someone else?” She spells out the possibility that Arabel might indeed be Bella. If she had told me this a week ago, I would have assumed the same with a large percentage, but ever since that day at the restaurant where our fingers touched, I knew it was her. I would never react to a stranger that way.
It was Arabel.
“I'm not sure. I am still making my findings," I mutter a lie so as not to raise her hopes high.
“Do you think I should talk to her? She is my child. I'm sure she would tell me the truth. She can't lie to my face for the second time. I have a way of forcing the truth out of her, Richard…”
“Mom, no!”
Fear jumps into me.
She can't force her to speak the truth. If she does, I might never see her again. She might just disappear, just like she did four years ago.
“Ok.” she murmurs sadly, making something tug at my heart.
If not for anything else, for my mother’s sake, I would ask Arabel for forgiveness. She means a lot to Mother, and having her back will be her happiness.
I feel guilty all of a sudden again.
If I hadn't caused her so much pain, she wouldn't have to pretend not just to me but also my mother. The time to start thinking of asking for her forgiveness and for her to come out clean is slowly approaching. I can't ask her to forgive me if she doesn't come out clean about her real identity.
What then do I have to do for her to reveal that she is indeed Arabel Cooper and not Bella Portillo?
Not only did I cause her pain by suddenly asking for a divorce because my first love was back, but I also caused her pain by abandoning her when I knew she had no one and being absent when my seed was growing inside her.
She brought up our child all by herself. She did a great job, and I need to go the extra mile to gain her forgiveness.
“Can I call you about this issue by tomorrow evening?” I demand, hoping to raise her spirit a little.
“Yes, I will be expecting your call," she responds more loudly than before, which makes me smile.
“Ok. Goodnight, mom. I love you.”
She grumbles. “Tell that to whoever deserves to hear it.”
With that, she disconnects the call, earning a light chuckle from me with a shake of the head.
We have been each other's backbone for more than ten years. Even though we fight all the time, we love each other so dearly.
When I had issues sleeping alone at the mansion, Mother always came to keep me company until I decided I was going to move to this penthouse. I go to the mansion once in a blue moon, and I haven't slept there in four years.
It reminds me so much of Arabel. Everything in that house does and it haunts me.
Waving the thought away, I grab my briefcase to bring out the file I need to work on tonight. I unzip the briefcase and search through it to realize it isn't there.
Shit!
I must have left it in the car.
Remembering the forecast I just heard from mom, I shoot up and rush to the door to get the file before it starts to rain.
I slam the door shut and take strides to the elevator to see it is in motion. Impatiently, I wait, and the door dings open. Without hesitation, I rush in, only to bump into someone with luggage.
The luggage and her handbag fall, and the contents of the handbag are scattered on the floor. Before I can apologize, she squats down to pack her belongings in a rush, just in time for me to see a tampon.
I realize this must be the reason why she is in a rush to pack her things without raising her head.
I stand watching, unsure of whether to help her pack her lady's things or just continue watching till she is done so I can apologize and go get the file.
When she is done, she silently curses and stands up to meet my gaze.
Instead of saying a quick "sorry," my jaws drop open, while she stares at me, her eyes round with shock.
“Arabel?!”
“Sorry, Bella?!”