C 10: Her true colours

Monique's gaze drifted out the window, tears blurring the vibrant scene beyond.

The revelations had chipped away at the foundation of her reality.

The reality she was now facing was harsh and cruel.

"Jacques sent you to spy on me?" she whispered, her voice cracking with disbelief.

Louise offered a gentle smile, tinged with sadness. "No, Miss Monique. He sent me to look after a friend who was too precious to lose."

Monique choked back a sob, the sting of betrayal tempered by a glimmer of understanding. "I let him down, didn't I?"

"You did what you thought was right at the time," Louise replied, her hand resting comfortingly on Monique's. "He understood, even if it broke his heart."

A wave of guilt washed over Monique. She had hurt the one person who had always loved her unconditionally. "But was it worth it?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Louise sighed, her gaze reflecting the weight of unspoken truths. "Only you can answer that, Miss Monique. But know this, Jacques never stopped loving you. Even when he let you go, he never forgot."

Fresh tears welled up in Monique's eyes. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, the depth of his love. Yet, the heart sometimes chooses its own path, no matter how perilous.

"He found out about Constance's plan a week before your wedding," Louise continued, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "The person who officiated your ceremony... he was one of Jacques' people."

Monique's breath hitched. "I don't know how I can ever thank him..."

Louise squeezed her hand gently. "He didn't do it for gratitude, Miss Monique. He simply wanted you to have the happiness you deserved."

Monique leaned her head against Louise's shoulder, seeking solace in the familiar warmth. "If you ever see him again, please tell him thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Louise nodded, her heart aching for the young woman who had endured so much pain. "I will," she promised, gently stroking Monique's hair.

Immersed in their conversation, neither Monique nor Louise registered the soft click of the front door opening and closing, followed by the familiar patter of tiny feet.

Suddenly, a small voice broke through the tension.

"Mama?"

Sahara stood in the doorway, her brow furrowed in concern as she gazed at her mother, tears glistening on her cheeks.

Monique's head snapped up, surprise momentarily replacing the sorrow in her eyes.

"Oh, honey, you're back already?" she managed, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

Rising to her feet, she crossed the distance and scooped Sahara into a tight embrace. The warmth of her daughter pressed against her, a comforting reminder of the unwavering love that remained constant amidst the storm.

"Mama, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Sahara's voice trembled, her small hand reaching up to touch Monique's tear-stained cheek.

Monique forced a smile, inhaling deeply. "No, baby," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Mommy just missed you very much."

Sahara giggled, her innocent joy a stark contrast to the turmoil within Monique. "But I was only gone for a little while, Mommy."

Monique held her daughter close, the weight of the revelation pressing down on her. How could she explain the complex web of deceit and betrayal to this innocent child?

"I know, sweetheart," she whispered, planting a kiss on Sahara's forehead. "Now come on, let's get you something to eat."

As Monique carried Sahara towards the kitchen, the sound of their fading laughter echoed through the room. Louise, who had witnessed the tender exchange, turned to Daniel, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and concern.

"A hand?" Daniel offered, extending his arm to help Louise up.

"Thank you, Daniel," she sighed, accepting his assistance.

"What happened?"

"What usually gets her in this state," Louise muttered, her voice laced with weariness.

Daniel's jaw clenched. "Clinton?"

Louise shook her head. "No, Constance."

Daniel's frown deepened. "That woman is nothing but trouble."

"Tell me something I don't know," Louise replied, her voice devoid of its usual warmth.

"What happened between them?" Daniel pressed, his concern evident.

Louise sighed, her gaze drifting towards the closed kitchen door. "They had a confrontation. Monique knows."

"Everything?" Daniel's voice rose slightly.

Louise scoffed. "Do you think she'd be so composed if she did? She only found out about the wedding.''

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He muttered under his breath, "Constance is a devil in disguise.''

"She is the queen of vipers alright. She just had to twist the knife while Monique was already down," Louise added, her voice laced with anger.

"You should have seen the way she walked out of here," she continued, her voice low. "Like a peacock flaunting its feathers."

Daniel nodded grimly. "Constance has always been skilled at hiding her true nature. Even now, Monique is still non the wiser.''

''It would be best if she never found out, cause if she did, she would really be heartbroken.''

The weight of the conversation hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the carefree laughter echoing from the kitchen. Sahara's voice, bright and innocent, cut through the tension like a ray of sunshine.

"Louise, come help me make cookies! I want to surprise Daddy!"

The door swung open, revealing Sahara bouncing in with a mischievous grin. Louise and Daniel exchanged a knowing look, their worry momentarily eclipsed by the little girl's infectious enthusiasm.

''Cookies for Daddy, huh?" Louise chuckled, scooping Sahara into her arms. "Sounds like a plan. But first, let's wash those little hands, shall we?"

Monique watched the interaction, a bittersweet pang tightening her chest. Sahara's playful spirit, oblivious to the turmoil brewing around her, served as a stark reminder of the innocence and normalcy they were fighting to preserve.

Monique's voice, laced with a hint of forced cheer, drifted from the kitchen. "That sounds lovely, sweetheart. But remember, no flour fights!"

Sahara giggled, her eyes sparkling with delight. "No promises, Mommy!"

In no time, the aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, a sweet counterpoint to the bitter truth that had become their reality.