me to come spend time with you. I’ve been with you since Friday night.
“Yet you accused me of seeing someone else and all that other bullshit. This is not what I signed up for. I told you in the beginning that I don’t do drama and that was the reason for the arrangement.” I pause and lower my voice.
“I can’t keep doing this with you,” I say in a hushed, but firm tone. “We had a baby between us. I’m sorry that you lost it, but this, all this other shit. I’m over it.”
“John, wait. I’m sorry. My emotions have been so unbalanced since losing our baby. I know I haven’t been myself in a long time. I’m so sorry. Please. I need you to get through this.”
“You need to talk to a professional.”
She whips her head back. My words aren’t said harshly, but they are honest. She needs to talk to someone; this shit isn’t healthy.
She looks down as if she’s searching. I sigh. I know that look. She’s probing for something in her feelings.
“Miss, I’m not trying to hurt you. It’s just the opposite. I want you to get better. I want you to find some balance and peace with everything that’s happened,” I say.
“Which is why I need you. You’re so great at making me feel better. I promise I’ll go to see someone. Don’t leave me, I don’t think I could handle that too after losing our baby,” she pleads.
I close my eyes and groan. The hook that keeps reeling me in. Our baby. I’m responsible for this.
“Listen, why don’t you head home. I want to spend more time with my family. I’ll come by later and we’ll talk,” I say more gently.
She searches my face with sad eyes, lips trembling. I reach out and tug her into a hug. Maybe I’ve been a little harsh.
Sometimes we manipulate people when we’re most vulnerable. I could be misreading things. The least I can do is make sure she gets the help she needs and then I can start to create distance between us.
“John, I need ye to come help me in the kitchen.” I turn to find my mother peeking out of the front door, with her lips pursed and a hand on her hip. “Ye be getting on, Missy. You don’t want to get caught in that traffic during rush hour.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. When I turn back to look at Missy, I almost lose the battle. The confusion on her face is priceless.
“But I don’t live that far, Cassidy.”
“Mrs. Black to ye. And it’s the hour ye need to rush out of me house. Goodbye, lass. Don’t worry about coming back too soon. John.”
“I’ll be right there, Ma.”
“Humph.” Mom glares at me before she turns back into the house.
“Why does she hate me? She told Nellie she could call her Cassidy.”
“Nellie has been a friend of the family for years.” I shrug.
“So why am I just meeting her?”
“Missy,” I say in warning.
“Well?”
I grind my teeth and call on my patience. “Because she moved back home four months ago. She’s been living in Seattle—” I cut off and work my jaw. “Why am I explaining myself?”
I grab her by the elbow and start off the porch toward her car. I’ve had enough for one day. It’s time for her to go.
“What are you doing?” Missy whines.
Fuck, I’ve never noticed how much she does that shit. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. Damn, the more time that passes and the more she forces herself on me, the more I’m finding things that drive me crazy about her—not in a good way.
I guess that’s because we were never supposed to be more. Our relationship has been Dom and Sub. I’ve never mixed family and pleasure. Things have crossed the line on so many levels.
When you try to fit a square peg in a round hole it never fits. Missy has been trying to fit her way into my life and it’s not working, no matter how she tries. It’s only showing me how right I was to want to end our contract early.
“Listen, I’ll see you later. Get home safely.”
“John, wait—”
“Later, Missy. I’ll be over and we can talk then.”
“John, get ye ass in here to help me like I asked ye,” my mother calls.
“Fine.” Missy pouts and climbs into her car.
Thank God.
I need some room to breathe. I narrow my eyes as I watch her drive away. That feeling that I need to