Page 123 of Yellow
Adam was on the front page looking gorgeous, and underneath was a picture of a Native American woman with a girl in front of her, both looking serious.
“Cleo Stole Adam Away from Me and My Daughter,” the headline said.
With shivering hands, I opened the magazine and skimmed over the article again. Adam was the father of an almost ten-year-old girl named Mary. The mother was a former girlfriend who was explaining how she and Adam had been getting back together when I hooked my claws in him and tore him away from his family.
Only… Adam had never told me he had a daughter or that he’d been seeing someone.
The last five weeks, I’d swung like a pendulum between anger and sadness. I knew it was a natural reaction to everything that had happened in my life these past months, but I also knew what I longed for.
Adam.
I longed for his closeness and masculine scent.
I longed for his company and subtle humor.
I longed for his healing touch that always calmed me down and brought such well-being.
Faith insisted I should talk to him and get some sort of explanation of why he chickened out and just left me, but I had blocked his number and the thought of seeking him out only to be rejected again… well, I couldn’t do it.
We had fought more than usual, Faith and I.
She kept telling me how sorry Logan’s brothers were for the headlines they’d caused. Neither of them had realized the impact of sharing a picture of the three of us to Instagram that night.
I didn’t blame them; they’d done what they could to deny the rumors, but for some reason that part of the story got almost no attention in the media.
Faith and I had also argued about the money I had promised to donate to the wild life foundation.
“You promised,” she scolded me.
“And I was about to. But then he broke my heart.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but maybe he has an explanation. At least admit that you learned a ton too…”
“I did! Onava made me reflect and Adam, he…” I paused. “He did help me feel better and stronger… for a while.”
“You can’t just paynothing,” Faith argued.
“Jane says I shouldn’t pay a single dime.”
“Jane says this, Jane says that,” Faith mocked. “That woman has far more power over you than you realize.”
“She’s my agent. She has my back.”
“No, Chloe, she has her own back.”
“You just don’t understand how Hollywood works.”
“Maybe not, but I love you and when you’re making a mistake, I’m going to call you out on it. You made a promise, and you owe Onava and Adam to keep your promise and transfer that money,” Faith pressed on.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped.
“Well, someone has to if you’re being an ass.”
I hung up on her, and Faith and I hadn’t spoken since that day two weeks ago.
Just thinking about it made me tear up again.
Dragging my feet, I went upstairs to take a shower but as I was roaming through my underwear drawer, my eyes landed on the phone I’d used while I was in the cabin and in Seattle. Too many times I’d looked at the pictures I took of Adam chopping wood. And today was no different. My finger touched his image on the screen.
God, I miss him so much.
With another deep sigh, I put the phone down, hoping that I would miraculously recover from my infatuation with Adam, and get this horrible Valentine’s date with Liam over with quickly.
