Duty To The Heir : Book One (The Heir’s Series Book 3) by Mood Josey

Author:Mood, Josey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

AISLING

Presley Estates , Wesbury

The Estates are all lit up with morning sunshine, and I take a big, refreshing breath.

I longed for this throughout the night, lying next to Duke, his lingering aura from last night somewhat stifling.

His distant demeanor from last night.

Something changed after that visit to his uncle, and he wouldn’t say. And now, a solo trip to Cayland? A nagging thought claws at the edges of my peace. He's hiding something.

Buzz.

Jordan's name flashes on my phone screen, and I slow my pace, giving myself a moment.

"Hey, Jord." I answer the video call, and his face pops up. His background tells me he’s at home.

"Aisling! Decided to take on the Estates this morning?" He's teasing, but I can detect that underlying tone of concern. He always knows when something's up.

"Yeah, needed some air. Duke's... he's headed to Cayland this weekend. Alone."

Silence. Then, "Really? He didn't ask you to tag along?"

The laugh that bubbles up feels more bitter than sweet. "I'm not his plus one for every gala or trip, you know."

"But Cayland? Ais, you guys practically honeymooned there!"

We didn’t just honeymoon there. That is where our second home is, and he chooses to jet down there at any given time without me.

I can hear the unspoken words, the implied 'what's wrong?' in his voice. It twists something inside me, and I force myself to breathe, steadying my voice. "We've set rules, Jord. I don’t crash his business world unless he gives me the green light."

Jordan gives me skeptical face. "C'mon, Ash. Everyone expects the charming Mrs. Duke at these big-shot events."

I roll my eyes. "Not into playing the trophy wife, remember? The endless small talk, the fake smiles? Nah. It’s exhausting. I’m fine."

"Still," Jordan sighs. "Duke nearing his big 4-0, these events might get lonelier for him."

That hits. Duke, surrounded by suits and ties, all fake grins, but alone. It tugs at my heart, and yet there’s this stubborn pride that refuses to just show up as an accessory. "If he wanted me there, he'd have asked."

Jordan's tone drops, tender. "Maybe there’s business stuff he can’t spill. You know how tight-lipped he gets."

"I do," I whisper, feeling the cool morning breeze against my face. "But it doesn’t make it sting any less."

"The intricacies of love, the puzzle of marriage, it's all so delicate. I continue jogging, reflecting upon the internal struggle.

I stop under a willow, the phone pressed tight to my ear, Jordan’s soothing voice acting as a thin lifeline in a sea of uncertainties. My other hand unconsciously traces the bark’s irregularities, the physical imperfections somehow grounding.

"Jordan, I feel so stuck," the words spill from my lips, unfiltered, "and this tree, it’s like me, unmoving and watching the world keep spinning, unaware."

His silent pause allows the rustling leaves above to seep through the silence, like nature's subtle attempt at a comforting whisper.

"You don't have to solve this all at once, Ash. Or alone," she gently advises.

My eyes lock onto a fallen leaf on the ground, wondering if it felt free, finally detached and cascading to the earth below.

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