Page 39 of Pucking Fate

Ididn’t sleep much last night.

How could I after my argument with Christian?

But it doesn’t matter that I want him. It’s not enough.

When I became a mother, all my decisions began to revolve around my son. I have to do what’s best for Finley, no matter what. I can’t be selfish and drag out this thing with Christian, knowing it’ll likely end badly.

Christian wants to be Finley’s father; he’s made that perfectly clear this summer, which means he’ll always be a part of my life too. I need to be able to look at him, to be near him, without my heart constantly aching for him to be mine.

Heading down to the kitchen before my shower this morning since I doubt Christian will be showing up early, I fix a pot of coffee to try to wake myself up. I need to snap out of this funk I’ve been in since he walked out the door last night.

I’m on my second cup when Preston comes lumbering into the kitchen, still half asleep.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“Morning,” I reply.

Neither of us say anything else until he sits down at the head of the table in what had started to become Christian’s seat…

“You okay?” my brother asks.

I shrug, not really wanting to get into it. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he presses. “In fact, you look like you’re on the verge of tears,” he adds, obviously not buying my lie. And I guess I look as bad as I feel. He stares me down with an expression that says he knows something’s up, he’s not going to let it go, so I better start talking.

“What’s going on, Maya?” he asks, then takes a sip of his coffee.

I sigh and rub my temples where a headache is pounding away. I know Preston means well,but if I talk about it right now, I’ll probably burst into tears. If my overprotective brother finds out the tears are because of Christian, he’ll go flying out the door to beat his ass without even knowing the man didn’t do anything wrong. So, I lie. “I’m just… tired.”

Preston narrows his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Is this about Christian?”

I stiffen and blink back tears at just the mention of his name, my heart thumping away in my chest. I don’t want to talk about this with anyone, but especially not Preston.

I have to clear the emotion from my throat before I can say, “It’s not about Christian. Just drop it, okay?”

“So, you just want me and Elle to pretend like we didn’t hear the two of you yelling at each other late last night from inside your bedroom?”

“Oh, god.” Crossing my arms on the table, I slam my head into them, burying my face. “You heard us?”

“Yes. Thankfully, just the argument and nothing else.”

“Ugh,” I groan. At least there’s that. “Do you think Finley heard?” I mutter without lifting my head.

“Probably not. He could sleep through a train coming through the house.”

“Good. That’s good.” And it’s exactly the reason why Christian and I need to end things now, no matter how good physically it might feel to be with him. I don’t want my son to grow up hearing arguments, wondering what we’re fighting about.

“Maya, come on. As long as it’s not about s-e-x, you know you can talk to me about anything. Save the other stuff for Elle, will you?”

“Don’t worry. I will never, ever talk to you about s-e-x,” I promise him, before finally lifting my head from the table. “Okay, so, for the past few weeks, Christian has been…spending time with me after Finley goes to bed.”

Preston cringes and slumps lower in his chair. “What did I just say?”

“I’m not going to go into details. I’m just trying to explain what our argument was about. Last night, I told him it was the last night, that we should stop.”

“And he doesn’t want to…stop?” he guesses with a wince.

“He doesn’t. But it’s for the best.”

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