Page 53 of Unlocking my Boss's Heart

“I was going to grab a snack from the vending machine.”

He brushed stray hair from my face. “I want you to go home and eat a real meal.”

“I’m fine.”

“You must be tired and need some rest. You’ve been here long enough.”

His tenderness made it hard to argue. He walked me down to the first floor, our fingers intertwined. At the curb, he let out a shaky breath, an unusual display of vulnerability from him, something I’d never thought I would see.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” he asked.

Taken aback by the question, I reached out and covered his hand with mine. “I will pray he will be.”

He looked into the distance. “I don’t want to lose him, Celia. We may not have the closest relationship, but he’s my father, and I—” His voice faltered, and he shook his head. “I can’t keep you. Go get some rest.”

I flashed him an encouraging smile. “I’ll call you later.”

When I got into the cab, he closed the door and tapped the roof twice; then the car drove away.

The ride back home was filled with doubts about whether I should follow through on my resolve to end our budding relationship. Was I making a mistake by letting it drag on? Anton was the first person I felt such a strong connection with. My life has always been focused on becoming a lawyer and working my way up to a high-level position.

The truth was, I wanted him in my life as more than just my boss or colleague. But there were so many obstacles. What chance did a romantic relationship between us have of surviving?

Wouldn’t it be safer to keep my distance and protect my heart?

I got home and felt like I was suffocating. So, I decided to go for a walk. The noisy city would get me out of this state.

Before I’d walked far from my building, an elegant woman approached me. I furrowed my brows as she stopped in front of me. I’d never seen her before, so I started to go around her.

“Celia?”

I stopped to look at her, puzzled as my heart thumped in my chest.

“Celia Adams?” the woman asked again, sizing me up and down with a knowing glance.

“Yes…?” I answered slowly and was suddenly on my guard.

If this woman were a reporter sent to gather information about Anton’s father, I would have to choose my words carefully.

“I’m Reeva, Anton’s baby mother,” her voice was low and clipped.

Oh.

This wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit, but it wasn’t supposed to be. Why else would an ex-girlfriend visit the current girlfriend uninvited? And how did she know where I lived?

The surprise on my face must have shown because she continued, “You don’t know me, I understand. I saw Anton and you at the restaurant Le Parisien the weekend before last.”

“The restaurant....” My voice lacked the fight hers held.

I was suddenly tired of all of this—so tired.

“Has Anton told you?” She placed her hand on her abdomen as she said that.

I looked at it, and though I didn’t see any obvious bulge, I didn’t care.

Was she expecting me to be shocked? Instead, I sighed, stepping away from her. I was exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally—and too detached to endure whatever speech she’d prepared for me.

“You don’t have to say a thing. I know about the baby, and we broke up already.”

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