“I don’t care about semantics!” she went on, brushing past his words. She pointed in the direction of the room. “That woman in there is carrying the next generation of my family.” She pounded on her chest to emphasize her words. “Ours! That baby is our flesh and blood and deserves the foundation he would’ve gotten if your brother were still alive!”
“I’m well aware of that, and I have taken every step necessary—”
“How can you leave her like this!” His mother threw her hands up to the heavens, the gemstones on her heavy rings glinting in the harsh hospital light. “When I was your age, I was already long married to your father, with a five-year-old and a newborn to care for. And yet you don’t want to provide your son the certainty of a two-parent foundation—”
“This situation is difficult for all of us,” he reminded her, struggling not to show any annoyance, out of deference and love for his mother. “Things will be decided after the baby is born.”
His mother pouted, obviously upset at being thwarted once again. Huimin’s increasing insistence that he marry Éloïse was weird. He was beginning to get the nagging feeling that something was amiss with his mother, but he was filled with too much self-pity to care.
Maxim desperately needed to put some distance between himself and the sensation of slow suffocation he was beginning to feel whenever the conversation came up. He was beginning to feel sandwiched between two very angry women.
The burning from the fresh tattoo was now a dull ache that spread out through his body, a kind of heat that made him want to strip off his clothes and dive into the nearest fountain. It was time to go.
“I have to leave, maman…”
Huimin didn’t look too happy. “Why? Where to? Why aren’t you in there taking care of Éloïse?”
“I am sure she is getting some of the best medical care in all of Aix,” he said, even though he questioned the need for it, given that the doctor had said she’d escaped with little more than a scratch on the cheek.
Before she could raise another protest, Max put his hands on his mother’s shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks. “I will call you. Please get home soon and get some rest.”
And then he was gone, almost ashamed of the haste with which he headed for the elevators. There he was, a grown man, and still his mom could put the fear of God into him as easily as she did with anyone else. Except for Julien, of course, who wrapped her round his pinkie and never let her go. His father was sometimes able to reason with her, but often he, too, could be steamrollered when Huimin was in one of her moods. Times like these, he wished his dad were here to have his back, and more importantly, that his brother was still alive.
Down to the ground floor, across the large atrium, heading for the massive front doors. Then, framed against the light streaming in, among the rush and flow of comers and goers, he spotted a figure, as if he’d been irresistibly drawn to it. The curve of a hip, the toss of hair… and recognized her immediately, even from behind.
Sienna.