Chapter 92
Chapter 92
HAZEL
FOUR YEARS AGO
My rtionship with Ravel had taken a notably smoother coursetely. Ever since the incident at
Anne’s ce, I hadn’t received a single call from her, nor had we identally crossed paths. Initially, I
couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t reached out, not even to offer an apology for the near-death
experience she had put me through. It was onlyter that I came to the realization that Ravel had taken
it upon himself to block her number from my phone.
Contemting the idea of unblocking her, I weighed the pros and cons. But upon further reflection, I
decided to let things be. Perhaps it was for the best if we simply maintained our distance and avoided
each other altogether.
A month had passed since the ident, and I was growing increasingly weary of the routine-either
staying at home or indulging invish outings with Ravel, all funded by him. It gnawed at me that I
contributed nothing financially to our household. True, Ravel deposited a generous sum into my
ount every month, but the fact remained that I yearned to be more than just a financial recipient.
I had never been one to embrace idleness, especially not since my time in rehabilitation. Hence, the
urge to do something productive had be an incessant itch. Resting my gaze on the untouched
ss of wine in front of me, I realized I had been lost in thought for quite some time.
Ravel, his voice h oa rse with concern, broke the silence. “You’ve been staring at that wine for ages,”
he pointed out. “Is there something on your mind that you want to talk to me about?”
Seizing the moment, I cleared my throat and looked at Ravel. “I’d like to discuss something with you,” I
began, and Ravel nodded, his expression encouraging me to continue. “I want to start working,” I
dered, studying his reaction closely.
His initially rxed expression shifted to a slight frown. “What do you mean by wanting to work?” he
inquired, tilting his head. “Is there something youck, Hazel?” he asked, and I shook my head in
response. “Then why do you want to work?”
Gulping down the remnants of my drink, I carefully ced the wine ss on the elegant table and
leaned forward earnestly. “I want to work, not because Ick anything,” I rified, “but because I feel
like I’m going to go insane if I don’t do something productive.”
“You already have a job,” he pointed out, and I felt a surge of frustration building within me. “I can
provide for you if that’s what you want, Hazel. You already have a crucial role.”
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I sighed, realizing that I needed to make my point more explicit. “Ravel, I appreciate everything you do
for me, and I love spending time with you,” I began, “but I need something more, something that gives
me a sense of purpose beyond our rtionship.”
“You are my muse Hazel. With you I create beautiful jewelry designs. You have a job.” He stressed.
My frustration bubbled oyer, and I snapped, “Can you please stop repeating that!” I emphasized, my
tone sharp. “You and I both know that I don’t have a job right now.” Taking a few deep breaths to calm
myself, I continued, “I want to visit Pascal’s art gallery and have him coach me through.”
Ravel picked up his ss, swirling its contents as he regarded me closely. “You’ve just survived a life-
threatening situation, Hazel,” he pointed out, his voice filled with concern. “And now you’re talking
about getting a job?”
“I’m okay, Rav,” I insisted firmly. “If I’m well enough to enjoy a ss of wine, then I’m strong enough to
start looking for work.”
He maintained his piercing gaze, as though conducting a business meeting with one of his clients.
“Have you considered what people will say?” he asked, his tone measured. “The press captured the
moment you were rushed to the hospital. What do you think they’ll say if you start working just a month
after being discharged?”
“So we’ll revisit this discussion in the future?” I inquired, hoping for apromise. Ravel nodded, but I
couldn’t shake the feeling that he was merely agreeing to put the matter to rest. “I’m serious, Ravel. We
will talk about this in the future.”
Chapter 92
He chuckled softly. “Of course, we’ll discuss it in the future.” The tone in his voice hinted that his
response might remain the same, even then.
Then, out of the blue, he broached a different topic. “Have you ever thought about us having a baby?”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Babies?” I hadn’t really given it much thought, and I hadn’t expected
him to either. “I’m not quite ready to be a mother just yet. I’m still learning how to be a wife,” I admitted
honestly. My life, as it stood, felt far from being put together enough to take on the role of a mother. “Do
you really want to be a father so badly?”
He responded with a casual shrug. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he reiterated, his eyes conveying his
sincerity. “I only asked because I wanted to understand your perspective on it.”
I pressed further, seeking rity. “So you do want to be a father, but you’re not in a hurry?” I didn’t want
to be the reason he held back from something he truly desired. If he was ready, I was willing to give it
more thought.
“Exactly,” he affirmed, tilting his head slightly. “I want to be a father, but I don’t want to rush you into
motherhood.”
His response filled me with warmth and affection for him. We continued chatting about various topics
until eventually, fatigue set in, and I expressed my desire to leave. Before we departed, I ced an
order for seafood takeout.
He responded with a casual shrug. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he reiterated, his eyes conveying his
sincerity. “I only asked because I wanted to understand your perspective on it.”
I pressed further, seeking rity. “So you do want to be a father, but you’re not in a hurry?” I didn’t want
to be the reason he held back from something he truly desired. If he was ready, I was willing to give it
more thought.
“Exactly,” he affirmed, tilting his head slightly. “I want to be a father, but I don’t want to rush you into
motherhood.”
His response made me fall in love with him even more. I felt more warmth and affection for him. We
continued chatting about various topics until eventually, fatigue set in, and I expressed my desire to
leave. Before we departed, I ced an order for seafood takeout, a delightful way to cap off our
evening together.
Yesterday, I had inadvertently overheard June confiding in the other domestic staff that she had never
tasted a particr seafood delicacy in her life. That simple statement had imprinted itself in my
memory, and I resolved to get her that delicacy someday. And today, as fate would have it, was that
someday.
The car rolled to a gentle stop, and Ravel graciously helped me out. His hand rested on my waist as he
led me into our grand manor. The moment I crossed the threshold, I embarked on a mission to find
June, while Ravel headed upstairs to our
room.
Eventually, I located her in the kitchen, diligently washing fresh fruit. “Hey,” I called out softly, and she
turned to look at me. “I’ve got something for you.”
June’s eyes widened with surprise as she looked at the stic bag I held out toward her. “You got
something for me?” she inquired, her curiosity piqued.
I nodded with a warm smile. “You mentioned you’ve never tasted seafood before,” I exined, “so I
thought today would be a perfect day to change that.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and I couldn’t
help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “But don’t get too excited until you’ve tasted it; you might end up
not liking it.”
She epted the bag with gratitude, her expression filled with appreciation. “Thank you, ma’am,” she
said sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”
I waved off her gratitude with a smile. “It’s no big deal; it’s just food,” I replied casually. “Enjoy it.”
Leaving her to savor the newfound delight of seafood, I made my way out of the kitchen and headed to
our bedroom, where I found Ravel emerging from the bathroom.
He noticed the smile on my face and inquired, “Why are you smiling like that?”
I shrugged yfully. “I like her.”
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Chapter 92
His curiosity got the better of him as he arched an eyebrow. “You like who?”
“June,” I rified with a smile that mirrored my genuine fondness for her. “I really like her. I think we’re
going to be good
friends.”