Page 29 of Fateful Exposure

Laughing, for fuck's sake. What had come over me? Did it make sense that I enjoyed the verbal sparring? Even though she was the most obstinate person I'd ever encountered, I couldn't imagine her not being…obstinate?

It was true that Selma antagonized me to no end, but I really wouldn't have it any other way.

twelve

Selma

Oh, my God. Oh, my freaking God.

I leaned against the door as soon as I shut it, blinking through my racing heart. What was wrong with him? Moving in next to me? Was he insane?

I heaved out deep breaths, pressing a hand to my chest in a vain attempt to steady my heartbeat. That was it. He was nuts. Loco. Mad. There were more than a few loose screws in his head. Who in their right mind would buy a new house just so he could torment someone with his infuriating presence?

Neighbors?I scoffed, pushing away from the door and walking to the stairs toward my bedroom. He was out of his fucking mind. Whatever it was he had been thinking while buying that apartment, I didn't care.

I would ignore him. Act like he didn't exist. Stay away from him. If he was crazy enough to buy a house just to keep a closer eye on me, then there was no telling what else his crazy mind was capable of.

I threw my handbag on the bed and took my clothes off. Who did he think he was anyways? How dare he invade my privacy like this? What made him think he could just waltz his way into my life and try to make decisions for me?

The cold water felt like a slap in the face. I suppressed a shiver, shutting my eyes and letting the water cascade around me like a thick blanket. The thought of being naked with him being merely inches away made my skin prickle, but it could have just been the chill of the water.

After what he'd just done, I would be the crazy one to still be attracted to him. God. This was a fucking disaster. I've never met anyone so persistent. Ashton was like a piece of gum stuck underneath one’s shoe. Always there, lurking in the shadows of your mind, taunting you. Every turn, every breath reminded you that getting rid of it would not be so easy.

I squirted some shampoo onto my palm before massaging my hair. The lather began to build as its coconut scent circulated the bathroom. When I was done, I stood under the shower to rinse the lather away. I loved washing my hair, which was why Ididn't do it frequently. Just so when I finally did, the comforting sensation of combing my fingers through my hair would be worth the wait. Plus, I always smelt good afterward.

Ashton wholly forgotten, I washed my body for a bit before stepping out and wrapping a towel around myself and one over my hair.

Feeling better than when I walked through the door, I sighed deeply, heading to the fridge to help myself to some oatmeal and dried fruit. It was my favorite thing to eat after pineapples. I sat at the counter to finish my bowl while mentally debating if today was the day.

I think it was better to break the news to my mother without being in the same room as her. And it was almost 10pm. I doubted she would drive all the way across the city to scold me in person at this time of the night. I would have about twelve hours before she could find me to rest and then I could brace myself for the impact of the reprimand I knew was coming.

I nodded in silent agreement, scooping the last of the bowl's contents into my mouth before dumping it in the sink. Heading back to my room, I retrieved my phone from my bag lying on the bed, and dialed my mother's number.

My heart thrummed inside my chest as I sat down on the edge of the bed and listened for the ringing tone. I couldn't believe how nervous I was. It wasn't like I would get a spanking for being bad. I was a twenty-seven-year-old woman with a successful fashion brand known far and wide. If anyone could afford to getpregnant outside of wedlock by her photographer, who was also a ginormous piece of shit, it was me.

"Hey, sweetie."

My heart raced faster. I didn't realize she'd picked up the call.

I tried to inject as much enthusiasm into my voice as possible. "Hey, Mama. How are you?"

My mother sighed deeply. Matilda Volkov had always possessed a flair for the dramatic. Sometimes, I wondered how she'd managed to give birth to me. We were complete opposites.

"We haven't spoken in two days,” she complained. “I feel like you don't care about me anymore."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I texted you yesterday morning, Mama. Quit fibbing."

She gasped, the exaggerated sound filling my ears. "Are you calling me a liar, young lady? I'll have you know that I carried you for nine months, and it took me twenty-four hours to push your fat head out of my cooch—"

"I'm pregnant, Mama."

"—hie…What did you just say?"

I held my breath for so long that I feared I would pass out. This was a terrible way to break the news to her, I knew that. But was there a better way? After going through life developing a backbone just to survive in the cutthroat fashion industry, I was ashamed to admit that when it came to my mother, I was a fucking chicken.

Bitchy celebrities and greedy collaborators I could deal with. But Matilda Volkov in all her glory? Let's just say it was better to keep my distance until she was calm.

In the fifth grade, I'd been bullied by a bigger girl in my class who didn't like the colorful way I dressed. I'd done my best to hide it from my mother, but somehow, she'd found out and threatened to spank me if I didn't take her to the girl's house.

---