Page 111 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

The letting someone in.

The potential for getting hurt all over again.

But looking into his eyes, seeing a reflection of my own guarded hope in his… I can’t help but feel that maybe this time is different.

Maybe...

30

Leo

The penthouse feels quiet.

Sabrina is out. Lunch with Tatiana Rossi. A ‘strategy meeting’ she called it, but I know it’s mostly just two friends needing to download.

Fine by me. It gives me… this.

Quiet.

Time to think.

Time alone with my daughter.

My daughter.

Still feels fucking strange saying it, thinking it even. But less terrifying than it did a week ago.

Now it just feels… solid.

Like an anchor in the usual swirling bullshit of my life.

Mia’s in the nursery, napping. Miraculously, she went to sleep easy today. Maybe she senses the temporary absence of her primary caregiver. Or maybe she just trusts me now not to completely fuck up the basic operations of keeping her alive for a few hours.

That trust… it’s a heavy fucking weight.

Sabrina having enough faith in me to leave Mia here, alone with me, while she goes out… that’s huge. Considering the terrified woman who wouldn’t even let me hold Mia unsupervised only a short time ago.

We’ve come… somewhere.

Not sure where exactly, but somewhere different.

Last night…fuck.

After Mia finally conked out, we ended up back in my bed. Yes, mybedthis time, not the sofa, not the window. Skin on skin, tangled sheets, the city lights painting patterns on her bare back. It was… different again. Slower. Deeper. More… connection. Felt like I could finally breathe again after holding my breath for twenty fucking months.

But this morning?

I woke up alone.

Sometime before dawn, she’d slipped out, retreated back to the sterile safety of the guest suite down the hall. Left me staring at the empty space beside me, feeling… what? Rejected? No, not exactly. Conflicted.

Like she’s letting me in, bit by bit, letting me see the vulnerability, letting me touch her, literally and figuratively, but only so far.

Then the walls go back up.

Can’t blame her. My track record speaks for itself. And maybe I’m doing the same thing? Letting her see glimpses of the guy underneath the asshole reputation, the guy holding our daughter, the guy trying to figure his shit out… but keeping the core protected?

Still running the old plays out of habit?

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