Page 38 of The Boss's Hideaway Baby

“Of course,” I say, understanding but still feeling a pang in my heart. I watch as he starts gathering our belongings, efficiency in every movement, making it clear that we’re pressed for time.

“Can you grab your things while I load the car? We need to be quick.” He looks at me apologetically, his eyes silently asking for understanding.

“Sure,” I nod, swallowing the disappointment threatening to overwhelm me. As I gather my clothes and toiletries, I can’t help but feel a sense of loss creeping in. Our time in Montauk has been a whirlwind of emotion and passion, something I never expected to find with Nathan. But life is calling, and we must answer.

We pack our bags in record time, the minutes slipping through our fingers like sand. As we make our way to the car, I steal one last glance at the beach house that had become our sanctuary, trying to etch its image into my memory.

“Ready?” Nathan asks, his voice gentle as he sees the wistfulness in my eyes.

“Ready,” I confirm, taking a deep breath and letting go of my longing to stay. Together, we step into the car and drive away, him behind the wheel.

“Montauk is so beautiful this time of year.” I wistfully stare out the car window, watching the town disappear behind us. The sun is rising quickly, casting a golden hue over everything it touches. “I wish we could stay longer.”

Nathan glances at me with a small smile before focusing back on the road. “You’ll be back.”

Me. I’ll be back. But not him? Does that mean that he’ll never return here with me?

“Yeah,” I choke out.

I’m not going to allow myself to imagine a future where Nathan and I return to Montauk, hand in hand, without any looming danger or pressing deadlines. It’s a fantasy, nothing more.

After all, he seems more than eager to get back to New York. Did what we shared last night really mean that little to him?

His phone rings again. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, answering his phone. “Nathan here.” His voice shifts into business mode, and there can no longer be any doubt that our intimate bubble has burst.

“Of course,” I reply, trying not to let the disappointment show in my voice.

It’s not like he can hear me anyway. He’s already pulled into whatever business conversation he’s having. I’m the past now. A forgotten thing, just like all the women before me probably are.

How could I have been so silly to believe him when he said he’s not a playboy? He probably gives that line to every woman!

I turn my gaze back to the passing scenery, lost in thought. Work is going to be tough now. Especially if Nathan acts like what we had in Montauk never happened.

If being coworkers becomes an issue, I could look for a job elsewhere. It’s not like I’m married to my current position.

“All right, I’ll see you soon,” Nathan says, ending his call. He immediately dials another number, diving headfirst into another work-related conversation. My heart sinks, but I keep my thoughts to myself, knowing that now isn’t the right time to bring it up.

Or maybe the right time will never come.

I don’t want to beg Nathan for a relationship. I would rather die than sink that low.

And if I mean nothing to him, then hell will freeze over before I let him know how much he’s hurting me. If nothing else, at least I have some pride.

The Manhattan skyline looms in the distance, a stark contrast to the peaceful beauty we’ve left behind. Nathan is on his third phone call since we left the cabin, and he shows no signs of slowing down. No doubt, he’s driving us straight to the office, and he’ll expect me to launch into work like nothing has happened.

I glance out the window, my heart aching as I try to hold on to the remnants of our time together. The city’s noise and chaos seem like an intrusion, threatening the fragile connection we’d built.

“Didn’t even last a day,” I whisper, feeling the sting of disappointment. Silly, really, to let my heart take flight after just one night.

“Sorry, what was that?” Nathan asks, having caught my mumble. I shake my head, forcing a smile.

“Nothing, just talking to myself,” I reply, turning my gaze back to the window. I watch as the buildings grow taller, their concrete walls closing in around me.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Nathan says, ending his call and giving me a guilty look. “I know I’ve been a bit preoccupied, but you know how it is. Work never stops.”

I nod, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill over. “Yeah, I understand,” I say. “It’s just… I thought maybe we could talk about last night and where we stand. But it’s okay. You’re busy.”

“Maria, I do want to talk about it,” Nathan insists, his eyes searching mine for any signs of hurt or anger. “Just not right now. Once this meeting is over, I promise we’ll talk, okay?”

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