tell him that.
Just the reminder of everything puts a damper on my arousal. He knows about my mum. He brought her up last night, so I guess Paisley filled him in. It makes me wonder if he asked about me.
“Okay. After work tomorrow, do you want to have dinner together?”
I glance up, my lips parting. “You’re opening tomorrow?” I purposely don’t bring up the dinner comment. I assumed this would be a one-night thing, even if that pained me. I don’t want him to feel like he has to.
He gives me a firm nod. “We can’t let him win. We’ve put everything into our businesses. It took Jaxon, then me, years to get it off the ground. The others put everything into it too. We can’t give up on it now, not when Mum gave up most of her livestock to make sure we had the time.”
“Wyatt, there’s something—”
“He’ll pay for what he did yesterday,” he grits out, interrupting me. “I plan to ruin everyone he holds dear.”
My heart sinks, and I feel the blood drain from my face. He’s confirmed what I knew all along. If he finds out, he’ll hate me. It won’t matter that I loathe the man too. I know what it’s like to get past your anger for someone else. I felt it towards Mum each time he came back into our lives. I don’t think Wyatt would hurt me physically, but sometimes I’m conflicted when he holds such deep hatred and anger towards Andrew.
“You should go before your mum comes looking for you,” I remind him, slipping out of bed and grabbing my dressing gown.
Still unaware of the turmoil going on inside of me, Wyatt slides on his shirt, doing up the buttons. “You’re right. She’ll send a search party.”
I force out a laugh, stiffening slightly when he strolls over to me. “So, dinner tomorrow night? After work?”
“I have to—”
He pulls me into his arms, his hands resting on my arse. “Say yes. I’m not leaving until you do.”
I need him to leave. I need to get my head together. I’m so frightened of him finding out, yet I’m more frightened to say no and never feel this level of passion again.
“Okay, I will.”
He presses his lips against mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
I let him find his own way out. It won’t be hard in a flat as tiny as mine. I listen for the sound of the front door clicking shut before collapsing onto my bed, screaming into the blanket.
Why, oh why, did I have to have Andrew as a father? All my life I’ve hated him and wished someone else was my dad. All my life. He took great joy in letting me know I wasn’t good enough to be his daughter.
Then he forced me to do this. And I met a guy who I could really fall for, who I could trust. Now it’s just another thing being ripped away from me because of Andrew Black.
Rebecca was right, I made the wrong choice in listening to Andrew to begin with. I need to explain that to the Hayes family, to Wyatt, and hope they can see I did it out of fear for my mother and not because I’m loyal to him.
I just need to figure out when and how to tell them.
*** *** ***
They are still refusing to let me see my mum. The snotty-arse lady who stands behind the receptionist, her glasses perched on the end of her nose, looks down at me with distaste. I’ve met her a few times and she’s always worn the same outfit: a black suit with a white shirt and a red pin attached to her jacket. Mrs Ballenger, the manager here, as she introduced herself to me when we first met a while back, is in her late sixties. Her white hair is pulled in a tight knot at the back of her head and she wears a permanent scowl.
“She’s my mother. You can’t stop me from seeing her,” I snap, my voice sharp.
We have been doing the same dance for thirty minutes. Mrs Ballenger showed up fifteen minutes ago, making it known who was in charge. Or at least, who she assumed was. We both know my biological father is pulling her strings.
“We’ve told you before, Miss Wilson, your father—”
“He is not my father!” I growl, slamming my fists on the reception desk. “She’s my mother. I’m the one who has taken care of her. He hasn’t seen her in years,