I blinked at the name on the screen, not having seen it there for a long time. After a brief hesitation, I answered. “Hi, Mom.”
“Nikita,” she said, voice brighter than I’d heard it in years. “How is my darling daughter?”
I bit back the snarky retort that wanted me to ask who her darling daughter might be, because it sure as hell wasn’t me. But I wasn’t going to get dragged down into bitterness if my mother was making an effort. I sat on the arm of my couch and said, “I’m good, Mom. How are you?”
“Oh, you know,” she said, and I imagined her waving a hand. “It’s all the same here. I miss you. How’s work at the store? Did you finish your course?”
My brows jumped. It had been longer than I’d thought since we’d caught up. “Actually, I’m not working there anymore.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I got a new job, and it’s been going really well.”
“What about your promotion?”
There was a pinch in my heart. I grimaced. “That…fell through.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” my mother said, and it felt disproportionately good to hear. It might have been the first time that my mother offered sympathy without immediately eclipsing it with her own woes and needs.
“Thanks. But it turned out great, actually,” I said, glancing out the window at the waiting car. “I really like this new gig.”
“What are you doing? We should do lunch! Catch up. A little bit of girl time.”
Surprise wouldn’t be the right word for what I felt. It was a mix of shock and tentative hope, tinged with bitterness. It felt like I was being offered a poisoned apple, but I couldn’t help but reach out for it. “I’d like that,” I said, “but I’ll have to check my schedule. I’m really busy with the new job these days.” And the man who’d given it to me.
“Great! We’ll do something next week.”
I rolled my eyes. Guess she could only truly listen so long. But maybe next week would work. “All right. Talk soon.”
“Love you, Nikita.”
I blinked, and the silence between us felt pregnant. Clearing my throat, I said, “Yeah. I…I love you too, Mom.”
She huffed. “All right. See you next week!”
The phone clicked. I stared at the screen, frowning. My mother hadn’t told me she loved me for years. Part of me wanted to believe she’d changed, that she was ready to see me for me instead of the vague, daughter-shaped presence in her life. But mostly, I felt wary.
I let out a breath, slipped my phone into my purse, and headed down to the waiting company car.
Jared’s POV
My skin itched with her absence. I focused on work as best I could for the morning, but my eyes kept drifting to the time, then to the door and the elevator beyond.
Cursing myself, I turned back to the screen in front of me and tried to focus on the latest numbers my finance team had sent through. But the numbers on the screen blurred as I thought of the way Iris had looked wrapped in my shirt, splayed out on my desk yesterday morning.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed my glasses up to my forehead and rubbed my eyes. This was exactly why I never got involved with a woman-not truly. Not to the point where I was stroking her stomach while I fucked her, thinking that I wouldn’t mind seeing it swollen with my child.
Wasn’t that some kind of messed-up, lust-induced delusion? But it’d crossed my mind. More than just crossed it, actually. The thought of breeding her had made me come so hard I couldn’t see straight for a full three minutes.
And I was hard now while I thought about it. What was wrong with me?
“Jared, I’ve got a message from Garrett. He wants to go over the schedule. I slotted him in for lunch-” Clara poked her head through the door and frowned at me. “Are you okay?”
“What?” I rolled forward, thankful my desk was solid oak. “I’m fine.”
“You look-did the weekend go okay?”
“The weekend?” My voice sounded weird.
Clara stared at me for a beat. “With Garcia?”
“Oh! Right. Yeah, yeah, it was good.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. What’s that about Garrett?”
“I emailed you the details. Do you want me to get you a coffee or something? Sparkling water? Aspirin?”
“I’m fine, Clara. That’ll be all.”
She was still frowning when she closed the door, and I let out a soft curse. This had gone too far. I needed to get rid of Iris, because she was intruding on my ability to do my job. And how could I be surprised about that? Letting people in meant weakening yourself. If I wanted to continue being successful, I needed to stay sharp. I needed to stay alone.
Anger burned off the remnants of my lust. Anger at myself, at Iris, at Clara for noticing something was off. I glared at my computer screen and sent my notes back to the finance department, then attended to the email Clara had sent about Dean Garrett, grimacing. The man was a time-waster, but I couldn’t afford to turn him away right now. I’d have to meet with him to go over details that we’d already clarified.
I scowled at the full schedule of events she’d dropped on my desk this morning for approval.
Pulling the paper closer, I uncapped a red pen and slashed two-thirds of the events. I needed to start cutting down the amount of time I spent with Iris. She was distracting me from what truly mattered. She was making me think about things that would never be mine. A relationship. A child.
Who was I to think I was capable of caring for a child? What would I do with a kid? The best thing for it would be to be far away from me, in the care of someone who would take care of it properly.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.