THE TASTE OF HIM

Cael's POV

The flashbulbs were still bright in my eyes as my driver whisked me away from the auction house. It felt as though I was the talk of everyone tonight-Cael Marcellus, the  artist himself, the one who fetched the highest piece in his recent work to date. It went on and on as reporters shoved their microphones at me for comments on what I was going to do next for an artwork, how it felt to hear the title "father of a new generation."

I smiled, nodded, bought them the answers, but frankly, my mind was nowhere in that glittering hall. Applause and champagne meant nothing when my personal life was crashing down.

Adrian and I had been at one another's throats for a week now, fighting about everything and nothing, something that was bound to explode from those tiny little things.

His complaints were always ok the same thing. He always complained that I would ignore him, too focused on my career-to-unavailable, so words had been particularly biting and harsh coming from him, considering he hadn't been making any effort as well in telling me what was actually wrong so we can fix whatever it was that went wrong.

Three days ago, he walked out of our house in a complete fury without any call or text later.  Not even informed me where he was. Pure silence. It was like he just did not care about me again.

I rested my head against the window of the car while the city lights blurred outside. The uproar, cheers, and applause should have given some thrill to one at least; actually, it felt perfectly empty.

As we pulled up at the gate to my estate, I forced my shoulders back. Just as the guards quickly opened the gate for us, one of them moved forward as we halted on the driveway.

"Sir," Serg, the head guard, began tentatively, "a lady came today. She requested to see you. We told her to wait, and she's been at the guard quarters since."

I frowned. "A lady? Who is she?"

He hesitated. "She wouldn't give much detail other than it was urgent. Should I go ask her in?"

"Yes," I said, although confusion twisted in my chest. I wasn't expecting anyone.

A few minutes later, Serg returned with a young woman. My stomach dropped when I recognized her-that sense of ending up in somehow being Claire, Adrian's secretary even though he never told me about her, and I did not bother asking questions because we decided to stay off each other’s work life.

She looked anxious, twisting her hands while walking inside. I gestured toward the couch in the living room and said, "Claire. Why are you here? Is everything okay?"

Her eyes flickered with fear. "No, Mr. Marcellus. It's-not."

I sat forward, the pounding of my heart. "Then say it to me."

Her throat swallowed and shook in voice; "'I'm pregnant.'"

Heavy as lead around my chest were those: Pregnant.

I looked up at her, trying to grasp how this affected me. "Okay... but why are you here? Why tell me this?"

Tears filled her eyes. "Because the baby's father... doesn't want it. He wants me to have an abortion, but it's way too late for that. The baby is past the stage where an abortion is safe. If I try, I could die."

Trying to put everything together, I shook my head. "Claire, you're right-your life matters. But... who is the father?"

Her lips shook. "It's Adrian."

My breath halted. For a moment, I thought I'd misheard. Then anger bathed hot through my veins. "That's not funny." My voice was sharp, harsher than I intended.

She flinched but didn't back down. "I'm not joking. I wish I were. It happened months ago. We were working late, one thing led to another-"

"Shut up." I held up a hand. "You expect me to believe that Adrian, my Adrian, would cheat with you?"

"Adrian, I'm not faking this." She looked at me like I was insane. "This thing between us is real. No matter how that sounds. I didn't want this, and I didn't mean for it to happen. But it happened, and I now carry his child. I told him a week ago, and up till now, he's been furious. He wanted me to get rid of the baby, but I can't."

Everything I've seen makes sense-nagging fights, his disappearances, the tautness in his voice. Still, my heart wouldn't allow it. "No. You're lying."

"I'm not." Her tears spilled over. "I came here because I didn't know what else to do. I thought… maybe if you knew you could talk to him."

I shook my head violently, trying to push away the storm of betrayal rising in me. "No. This is insane. You're saying he's been cheating on me this whole time? With you?"

Before she could answer, the front door opened.

Adrian turned in.

A rolling wave of grief rushed through me at seeing him. He halted in his tracks at the sight of Claire sitting in the living room, shock flashing across his face, giving way to anger in close succession.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

I slowly stood, eyes boring into him. "You’re back…and alive ?"

His jaw clenched. "Yeah. What are you doing with this lady? What is she doing in our house?"

I turned back again to Claire, voice low. "'You know what, say what you've just told me.'"

Her hands trembled as she spoke, but her voice was steady. "I told him Adrian, I’m sorry but he needs to know the truth."

With that came the silence, with the feeling of daggers twisting in my chest. I turned back to him, my heart pounding painfully. "Is it true?"

“It’s not a lie.” He said, classic Adrian refusing to approach the truth head-on.

Those words actually broke something inside me.

My world tilted then, rage and grief battling in my chest. "Adrian..." My voice broke. "After all we've built-after all I've given you-you betray me like this?"

He stepped close to me, arms raised as if to calm me. "Cael, please... I can explain."