Page 51 of Offside Devil

My hands fist at my sides, but it doesn’t matter. Zane isn’t looking at me.

“Fine with me,” I spit out.

I storm back to my bedroom. After leaning back against the door for a few seconds, collapsing on my bed in tears wins out.

22

MIRA

Aiden won’t sleep.

I wake him up in the mornings, and he’s exhausted. He goes and goes and goes all day, but refuses to lie down in bed at naptime. Then, sometime in the afternoon, he eventually curls up in some corner or closet and goes to sleep.

I know it pisses Zane off that Aiden sleeps through part of their evenings, but I’m not sure what he wants from me.

It’s the same thing day in and day out, and no one except me wants to do anything about it.

That’s what I’m left to believe, anyway, since I can’t talk to Zane face-to-face anymore and his assistant doesn’t answer my emails.

I skim my inbox for the fifth time this morning and it’s still empty.

“She really hasn’t messaged you back?” Taylor is panting into the phone. I called her in the middle of a workout, but she swears she can StairMaster and talk at the same time. “Are you sure the emails went through? Do you have the right email address?”

I click over to my sent folder to quadruple check all of my emails actually sent.

Hanna,

Aiden is struggling to settle into his new room. I’d like to talk to Mr. Whitaker about my suggestions to make Aiden more comfortable. Could you let him know I want to talk?

Best,

Mira

“Everything sent. And I know she’s seen them because she sent me Zane’s schedule this morning.”

Along with a note. Fifteen cruel, concise words. Mr. Whitaker won’t be at the arena today. He has other business to attend to.

Taylor hums. Or wheezes. It’s hard to tell which. “Maybe his assistant forwarded him your emails and he doesn’t care.”

“Well, he should!” I snap. “Aiden is his son. What does he have going on in his life that is more important than his kid?”

Other business to attend to. Is that code for following half-naked women into coffee shop bathrooms?

Something hot settles in my chest. Before I can stop myself, I shift Taylor to speakerphone and open up my text thread with Zane.

“What are you doing?” Taylor asks. “You’re quiet. Are you still there?”

My fingers fly over the keyboard. “Texting Zane.”

“Texting him what? Have you thought this through? Maybe we should workshop this for a few minutes before?—”

“Too late. I already sent it.” I didn’t even waste time proofreading it.

Aiden isn’t sleeping because his room looks like a hotel. He likes small, cozy spaces like the closet. If you want him to sleep, you need to make an effort to decorate his room. Make space for him in your life.

Taylor exhales sharply. “Okaaay. And are you feeling good about this decision?”

The message shifts from Delivered to Read and anxiety threatens to climb up my throat. “He didn’t give me a choice.”

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