Page 123 of My Damaged Protector

And I shouldn't be made to feel terrible for putting myself first for once in our history, which by the way, she's well aware of!

“Auntie, please, just let me go.”

She's in my path, trying to talk me out of leaving the house and the estate because I might run into Peter.

Truth is, I'm actually counting on running into him. If he's so desperate to see me, then I might as well make it easy for him and give him what he wants. Which will only be to tell me that I'm a despicable person for not wanting to help our father again.

It doesn't matter, though. All I'll do is tell him I'm sorry and then inform him that if he so much as tries to come anywhere near me and my daughter again, I'll go to the police. Of course, I won't do that, but he doesn't have to know. And for a man with his history, he would do anything to not have the cops after him again, right?

Shit.

This is a shitty plan, isn't it?

But I've got nothing else, so I'm sticking with it.

I also need to get out of the house. I'm feeling so confined it's a miracle I've not lost my cool yet. I need to take a walk, clear my head, maybe go to the bar and hope Peter finds me there. If he doesn't, it still doesn't matter. I'll at least feel better from the stroll.

“No. I don't think you should leave.”

“So, what are you going to do? Stand in my way all night and not go to bed?”

“If that's what it takes to get your act straight.”

My act straight?

Damn it. She's been coming at me for my decision-making. It's starting to piss me off.

“What's that supposed to mean? If you think I'm so terrible at decision-making, how about you just turn around right now and go back to your house where everything is perfect and you've never crossed a line before,” I bark.

She flinches at my words. A hurt look comes over her face.

“You think I'm judging you?” she asks in disbelief.

“I don't think so. I know you are. And you've been doing it ever since I got pregnant with Olivia!”

“That's not true, and you know it. I've done nothing but support you since you had that girl.”

“Maybe that's true, but how about the way you've been looking at me since I conceived this new child? You want to tell me you're not disappointed in me?”

She smiles at my words. It pisses me off.

“What's funny?” I snap.

She shakes her head, lets out a low chuckle, and then moves out of the way. Turning to watch her move, she goes to sit, and I remain standing, watching her and at loss for what just happened.

Isn't she supposed to be mad at me since I pretty much lashed out at her?

“Come sit beside me, Sarah,” she says, patting the space beside her.

I huff a breath of frustration. “Look, Auntie, I'm sorry that I raised my voice. I'm just so frustrated right now, which is why I need you to let me go. We'll talk when I get back, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods.

“Okay?” I ask her in disbelief. I expected her to argue. Why is she suddenly not doing that?

“Yes, Sarah. Okay. You go out, get some time to yourself, and come back here in one piece, okay?”

Staring at her, I find it hard to gather my words for a few seconds. Eventually, I clear my throat and nod.

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