Page 59 of The Boss's Hideaway Baby

He looks up at me, eyes squinting. “I’ve been thinking about you, Maria. A lot.”

My breath catches in my throat. I would be lying if I said anything other than that he’s on my mind every minute of every day, but truth just for truth’s sake doesn’t make sense. Not here, not now.

This man shattered my heart into a million pieces.

Or maybe I did that all on my own. I knew who he was, what he was like. He said some sweet words that, for a while, made him seem different, but in the end those musings didn’t count.

“How are you?” he asks.

I look down at my hands. “It’s complicated.”

His inhale is sharp. “I understand.”

I eye him. Does he?

I want to hear more, but I don’t want to get into it out here on the beach. I only came down here for a few minutes to get some fresh air, and I’m starving. If I don’t eat something soon, then morning sickness will get the better of me again and I’ll be vomiting all over the beach.

“How about some breakfast?” I suggest.

His eyelashes flutter. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

I nod, and, without a word, we stand.

The sun lingers just above the horizon as we walk towards the cabin, casting a warm pink glow over the sand. The salty air fills my lungs, and I try to focus on the beauty around me instead of the knot forming in my stomach.

Taking my keys from my pocket, I unlock the door and lead him inside. The familiar scent of the cabin envelops me, bringing back memories of our time together.

“I hope eggs and bacon are good.” I head for the kitchen, already knowing he likes them. In fact, if I’m being honest with myself, that’s part of the reason I’ve been eating them each morning all week long.

My hands shake slightly as I crack eggs into a pan and toss bacon on the griddle. I need something to busy myself with, but I can feel Nathan’s gaze on me, his presence heavy in the room.

We don’t say anything, but he sets about brewing coffee, his movements so familiar it’s like he never left. It’s like he belongs here, with me, doing this normal but so special task of making a meal.

We work in silence, the only sounds in the room the sizzling of the bacon and the percolating of the coffee. It’s strangely comforting, this wordless dance between us, but it’s also a painful reminder of what we once had.

Nathan places two steaming mugs of coffee on the table as I bring over plates of eggs and bacon. We sit down across from each other, and for a moment, everything feels peaceful.

But it’s not, and I know I can’t avoid the conversation forever.

“So, how’s work?” I casually take a sip of my juice, avoiding the coffee. I haven’t had a stomach for it ever since the first-trimester symptoms kicked in.

“Busy, as always.” He doesn’t make a move to eat his breakfast. “We closed the deal on that new building. Remember — the one I was working on before… before everything happened?”

“Right,” I say, trying to sound interested. “You must be happy about that.”

Inside, I’m seething. It’s clear he values his job above all else, even me. My pride keeps me from saying anything, though.

And what should I expect? It would be entitled of me to demand he give me anything outside of his character. I can’t change anyone, and I don’t have the right to ask them to change for me. That’s where I went wrong with him.

“Of course,” he says, but there’s a hesitation in his voice that makes me look up at him. He seems almost… sad. “It’s what I’ve been working towards for so long, after all.”

We eat in silence for a few moments, the tension between us palpable. I pick at my eggs, my appetite suddenly gone. All I can think about is the secret I’m carrying, and how it’s going to change everything between us.

“Maria.” His voice is soft, uncertain. “I know things haven’t been easy between us lately, but I want you to know that…” He trails off, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue. But instead, he just shakes his head and takes another bite of his breakfast. “Never mind,” he mumbles around a mouthful of bacon. “It’s not important.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling both relieved and disappointed. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to tell him after all. But when would it ever be?

“What’s next?” I ask. “With work?”

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