by Kat T. Masen
And if he does, it will be out of obligation, not because he wants to start a family with someone who’s only nineteen.
My head beings to spin, forcing me to sit down as I bury it between my legs.
“I can go get it for you. We can do it together.”
I throw my hands up in the air, my chest tightening. “I don’t want to know just yet… I can’t do this anymore, Liesel. I can continue to lie to my parents, fail college, and be in love with a man in which we don’t have a future together. It’s against all odds.”
At that very moment, my phone begins to vibrate with Mom’s caller ID on the screen. I hit reject, unable to speak to her.
“It’s hard. I get it.”
“No, Liesel, it’s almost impossible to keep going. And now what, I’m supposedly pregnant too? This is so fucked up.”
My breathing begins to falter as I fall sideways, curling up into a fetal position as if it’ll protect me. Liesel lies beside me, holding onto me tight. “You need to talk to him. You can’t go through this alone.”
I shake my head. “And what? Freak him out, too. Never in his wildest dreams will he think to have a child with a nineteen-year-old. You don’t understand, Will has all these amazing things happening for him. Everything he has worked for his whole life is coming to fruition. I can’t be the one to ruin this for him because I was lazy in taking my pill at the same time each day.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure, never in his wildest dreams did he expect to fall in love with someone who has been there all along. Will isn’t a man you picked up on the street. He’s family. That type of connection runs deep. He won’t hurt you, Millie. Besides, he’s old enough to be able to take care of you. Imagine if it were Austin? You’d both be screwed.”
Maybe Liesel has a point, and maybe she doesn’t. But for now, I feel alone.
And perhaps this is the trouble with love. At the best of times, it’s wondrous and core-shaking. Yet, at the worst of times, it can make you feel like the loneliest person in the world.
“Millie,” Liesel murmurs beside me. “You can’t pretend this isn’t happening. Let’s get this over and done with, and chances are, we’re both overreacting.”
An hour later, while I continued to lay on the sofa completely numb, Liesel returns with the test. I beg her to stay with me in the bathroom, and with shaky hands, I grab the stick from her and follow her directions. I nervously pee, then hand the stick back to her as she places it on the vanity.
I flush the toilet and step away, unable to look or even breathe.
Every second that passes is painfully slow.
“Millie,” Liesel breathes uneven and shaky.
Clenching my fists while hyperventilating in the small bathroom, my body tremors to the point I think I’ve stopped breathing.
Liesel holds up the stick, and my eyes scan to see one blue line.
That means not pregnant, right?
But there, beneath the one line I thought would be my saving grace, is another very faint blue line.
So faint but unavoidable.
“You’re pregnant.”
Twenty-Eight
Will
Lex insists I travel to London for three days to meet with shareholders.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, given that I haven’t slept in my bed for close to two weeks. The pursuit to dominate the European market isn’t without its challenges. The pressure is mounting, my attention being pulled in every direction, and sleep becoming an afterthought with insomnia setting in once again.
I dread breaking the news to Amelia, but surprisingly, she takes it well. We didn’t fight or argue, and she simply said she’s busy with assignments since she’s taking extra credits. Her tone is off, yet I don’t interrogate her given that she’s still recovering from the flu. The guilt of not seeing her while she was sick weighs heavily on my mind, but it’s impossible to get a single moment away from work with everything going on.
Lex is more demanding of late, assuming I’m at his beck and call with every goddamn emergency. I sense he has his concerns, many of them with Amelia. Yet, unlike before, he doesn’t mention it to me, and therefore, I don’t ask any questions, careful not to raise suspicions.
I’m given a tour of the potential London office, all of which becomes this added stress. The topic is always part of our discussions in our executive meetings, yet I’m still unable to find a solution that allows me to stay in the States.
The more I try to play around with staff relocation and look at the costs of having someone else run London, it becomes evident that I’m the best person for the job. But the realization drives resentment throughout me. I dreamed of building this empire only for me to be the one to have sacrifice the one thing I want.
Amelia Edwards.
I fucking miss her like crazy. It almost feels like we’re worlds apart, across an entire ocean. There’s no way in hell that I can live in another country when I need her in my bed, with me, and only me. My jealousy is already an issue in our relationship. Any time she mentions another man’s name or appears in photos with so-called ‘friends,’ my temper gets the better of me. I hate myself for it, but the thought of another man touching her sends me to the brink of insanity.
Just before my flight back to the States, Amelia calls me while I’m queuing to board the plane. Thank God for business class. The line for economy class with screaming children is chaos. The more I observe their behavior, the more I realize how unappealing it is to have kids.
“Hey, I’m just boarding.”
“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, why? You miss me or something?”
Standing at a complete stop, amongst strangers, I desperately want to tell her I miss her. That it’s been the longest two and half weeks of my life, and I need to be inside her more than ever.
I hear a sigh over the speaker, but her tone is soft and not the usual burst of energy she’s known for. “Can we talk tomorrow when you’re back?”
“Of course.” I wince, remembering the forecast meeting scheduled for tomorrow. “Actually, it might have to wait until tomorrow night. I have a meeting all day tomorrow.”
“We’ll talk then.”
She hangs up the phone without saying another word, not even a goodbye. I send her a quick text before having to shut my phone off.
Me: Is everything okay?
Amelia: It will be.
Me: I love you.
Amelia: I love you, too, Will.
I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something else is troubling her, but there’s nothing I can do right now until I get back on home soil.
“Gentlemen, let’s wrap this meeting up,” I suggest, irritable from the jetlag. “We’ve gone through what we need to go through. We’re just going around in circles now.”
“What about Edwards? Won’t he want to make a decision?”
“Considering this is my company, I’ll consider Lex’s opinion but will ultimately make my own decision.”
I stand up, stretching my arms before exiting the room and going back to my office. Ending that meeting early means I have three extra hours to spend as I please. Upon my walk back to my office, my personal assistant, Heather, motions for me to look at the guest area. My eyes are drawn to the long, lean, tanned legs crossed on the white leather lounge to the black straps wrapped around her ankles.
There’s a familiarity to the legs until I draw up her body and meet the eyes of a gorgeous woman. The same woman I had bedded for close to a year.
“Luciana?” I say, stunned to see her. “What are you doing here?”
Standing up, her eyes implore me while her lips curve up into a smile. She walks toward me wearing a soft V-neck dress, tight and hugging her curves in all the right places. I purse my lips, remembering how sexy of a woman she is.
“I’m in town and wanted to drop by to say hello.” Luciana extends her arms, prompting an embrace which I feel pressured to do. With her arms wrapped around my neck, I hold
her tight for just a moment, then pull back, uncomfortable with how intimate a simple hug feels.
“Is now a bad time?”
“Of course not, please come into my office.”
We enter the office, and I motion for her to take a seat as Heather offers her a beverage. She kindly accepts a glass of water before switching her attention back onto me.
“How have you been?” I ask, resting back in my chair. “Are you still modeling for Victoria’s Secret?”
“Yes. I’ve just signed another contract which is why I came here.”
“Oh?”
“It’s for a television show to be filmed in the city. My contract is for the next five years.”
“Congratulations,” I offer with a genuine smile. “That’s exciting for you.”
“It’s exciting.” Her gaze fixates on mine, twinkling under the fluorescent light. “I don’t like where we ended, Will.”
I should’ve seen it coming, the not-so-subtle glances, the crossing of her legs exposing her thighs purposely—all of Luciana’s signature moves. Avoiding her persistent stare, I fidget with my cufflinks.
“It ended the way it needed to end. I wasn’t ready for the life you wanted.”
“And now?”
“Now?” With a slow and steady gait, I raise my eyes to meet hers. “I’m seeing someone.”
Luciana grimaces, narrowing her eyes, looking less than pleased with my admission.
“Who is she?”
“Does it matter?” I question rudely.
“Of course, it matters,” she sneers, toying with the gold necklace around her neck. I recognize it from when we were together. A birthday present from me if my memory serves correct. “I want to know who means more to you than me.”
Her arrogance amuses me. “My private life is exactly that, private. If this is what you came for, then I’m sorry.”
She leans over the table, purposely showcasing her cleavage. I divert my eyes, not wanting to encourage her in any way. Sure, she has naturally big tits which fit perfectly in the expensive lingerie Victoria’s Secret is known for, but everything in front of me isn’t the person I’m in love with.
“We were good together,” she reminds me, her eyes fixated on my mouth. “And we were especially good together in the bedroom. Do you remember, Will?”
I bite my tongue, trying my best to think of the appropriate words to let her down. Yes, we were great in the bedroom because she was a good fuck at a time of my life when I knew no better.
And now, the only body I want to devour is Amelia’s. My addiction and obsession, the only touch I want to feel all over me.
“I remember, and yes, it was good… at the time,” I tell her, quick to continue. “I’m with someone, and that person is important to me. So, again, if this is what you’ve come for, I’m sorry, Luciana, but we ended a long time ago.”
Dropping her shoulders, she ducks her chin before letting out a breath and standing up. I follow her lead, eager to usher her out and avoid any further conversation on the past.
“I guess I should congratulate you or something.”
“It was nice seeing you again, Luciana.”
She leans in for a hug, then pulls away, caressing my face with her hand. “Make her happy, okay?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “I’m trying.”
A loud noise enters the room as the two of us turn toward the door. Amelia is standing there with her hand on the doorknob. Heather runs up behind her, panic-stricken.
I barely recognize Amelia. It’s been weeks since I last saw her, and only now I realize how the flu really affected her. Her usually rosy cheeks look pale and gaunt. There are dark circles under her eyes. Everything about her appears worn out.
“Amelia, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” she stammers, her breathing shallow. “But I can see you’re busy.”
Her eyes dart back and forth to Luciana. Quick to realize our friendly goodbye looks suspicious, I pull away and create distance between us.
“Luciana, this is Amelia, a family friend of mine.”
I use my words cautiously, aware that Heather is present. The last thing I need is for her to gossip with her co-workers, and it leaks to Lex.
“Amelia, Luciana.”
“How do you know each other?” Amelia blurts out rudely.
I lower my gaze but choose to be honest to avoid deception on my account.
“We dated.”
Luciana tilts her head with an overbearing smile. “We lived together a year ago.”
“You never said you lived with someone?” Amelia questions, folding her arms beneath her chest, angered by the truth.
“It slipped my mind,” I say, watching her expression shift from anger to pure rage.
Amelia storms out, the hurt evident on her face. I call her name, following through the office doors until we’re in the lobby. She presses the elevator repeatedly, desperate to get away from me. I grab her arm, willing she stop.
“Fucking hell, Amelia. What’s wrong with you? Someone could’ve seen that outburst.”
Amelia turns to me swiftly, nostrils flaring with widened eyes. “I thought you had a meeting all day?”
“I did. It ended early.”
“And you didn’t think to call me? I told you I needed to speak to you.”
“And I told you tonight.”
“But you have free time to do whatever it is you were doing with your ex-girlfriend in your office?” she accuses, raising her tone. “The girlfriend who you lived with, according to her. Must have been serious for playboy Will to commit to someone being in his bed every night.”
“Amelia, don’t start…”
“Don’t start what?” she yells, almost a cry. “I get it, okay? I’m not her. I am not a woman with my own career and money. I don’t have the freedom to do whatever the hell I want. I can’t just walk holding your hand without being questioned about our age. I’m everything that you don’t need, and everything you do need is standing inside your office, no doubt wishing you guys get back together.”
I lower my head, unsure what to say.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth to tell her how much I love her and that while some of that may be true, in the end, I only want her, the doors ping open.
We both glance at the opened elevator, and the familiar emerald-green eyes are staring directly at us.
Lex Edwards.
In the flesh.
Twenty-Nine
Amelia
My father’s eyes dart back and forth. The normally vibrant emerald-green pupils turning a darker shade as the three of us stand here inside the lobby.
“Amelia,” he demands, his tone deepening. “What are you doing here?”
“I…I…” I stumble on my words, thinking of anything, trying to rid myself of the hurt from moments ago when I caught Will and his ex-girlfriend in an overly friendly embrace. “I lost my wallet and didn’t know where to go. I had no cash on me.”
“You lost your wallet?”
“Yes, and I was upset,” I continue to lie, clearing my throat to sound more believable. “I was a few blocks over ready to meet a friend when I realized it. It must have been on the subway. I didn’t know who to turn to, so I came here.”
Dad’s expression remains blank, unreadable. If he does, in fact, suspect anything, he’s doing a great job at disguising it.
“And Will and I got into a fight because he called me irresponsible. I was meeting a boy, Dad, and I should be studying.”
“You should be studying,” he grits, clenching his jaw while staring at me oddly. “I got a call from your academic advisor saying that you’re falling behind. Who is this boy you’re meeting?”
“It doesn’t matter, Dad.”
Will continues to remain quiet, then excuses himself, leaving me to fend for myself. I’m hurt he’d do such a thing when all along he promised me he would fight for us. And here I am, fighting for us and this so-called baby I’m carrying
, only for him to walk away.
Swallowing the lump inside my throat, my chest begins to hitch, making it harder to breathe.
“It does matter, Amelia!” Dad yells, the echo bouncing off the glass walls. “I knew you going to Yale was a bad idea. You aren’t mature enough to handle being on your own.”
I raise my eyes with a pinched mouth, devoid of any emotion as his words anger me.
“So, all that talk about me being responsible was to do what exactly?”
Holding his elbows wide from his body, he lowers his head to control his breathing. His expensive suit looks tight on his overly tensed muscles, the veins on his neck visible next to his white-collared shirt.
“Right, excellent parenting,” I mouth, placing my hands on my hips. “This is all your fault.”
“My fault?”
“Yes! You and your stupid rules, the way you control my life. If it weren’t for you, my life would be much better.”
“Watch your words, young lady.”
“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” I bellow, staring at him with contempt. “Cut me off, disown me. I’m done with being Lex Edwards’s daughter.”
I run into the elevator, closing the door with urgency to leave my father standing there with his head down. The second I’m alone, my body begins to shake, the urge to violently throw up teetering on the edge.
I exit the elevator, walking fast to distract my sick stomach, only to feel an uncomfortable gush between my legs. I rush to the bathroom, closing the stall behind me, yanking my jeans down to see a pool of blood between my legs.
Panicked, I wipe between my legs to clean myself up, but the sight of the blood makes me dry heave. My head falls into the bowl, the barely-there contents of my stomach exiting my body brutally.