Page 34 of Plus-Size Pregnant Mate

I wiped at the canvas and growled as the paint only smeared around. I grabbed another rag, wiping more and getting some of it off. I could paint over it, but I would need to let it dry first.

I tossed my brush into my jar of water and grabbed my phone. I could see another message from my father asking me to come home.

I pinched my forehead, feeling a headache forming. This was the last thing I needed right now.

"Why don't you shut it off?" Owen asked.

"Because," I said, scrolling down quickly while reading the other messages. They were all the same. My folks wanted me to come home. They were sorry and wanted what was best for me. They just wanted to help. On and on they went.

I tossed my phone onto the couch and turned. "I can't turn it off. I need to keep it on in case it's something important."

It was a little lie I was telling myself. Mostly because my folks asking me to come home was better than nothing. The silence would be worse.

I closed my eyes and tried to push everything aside. I needed to get ready to head over to grab my stuff anyway. I just hoped it all went well.

I pulled up in front of my folk's house, and my friend Zenna made a sound in the seat next to me. "You know, for someone that's broke, your folks have a pretty large house."

"It's paid for," I said with a shrug. "My folks got it from my grandparents. It's been in our family for generations."

Zenna shrugged. "I imagine the taxes are still a lot."

I thought about it and suddenly wondered how they could afford it. If they were going through money that fast, when did things become difficult? When did they start to realize the money was drying up?

We both got out of the car, and I looked around. It felt odd coming back, knowing I wasn't staying. This place used to be my solitude, and now I was nervous about even stepping inside.

"You okay?" Zenna asked, giving me a sympathetic smile. She had really been the only friend I had told everything to. She knew about my breakup with Owen and she knew about my relationship with my folks. She'd quickly because the person I leaned on after Owen and I split, and I wasn't sure I would be doing this if she wasn't here.

"I'm okay. Thank you again for agreeing to come."

We headed up towards the front, and the door swung open before we could even knock. My eyes widened as I took in Logan. My stomach dropped, and I suddenly felt panicked.

"Welcome," he said, leaning on the door. "Your folks invited me over for dinner. I'm glad you decided to come."

I scowled, watching as my father came around the corner, spotting us. "Ashley, come in."

I looked at Zenna, who had her eyes on Logan. I didn't want to, but I needed my art. If I was going to do this, I needed to make some money.

I straightened my back and stepped inside, Zenna following me in.

The entrance was grand. It was a large open space with an unused piano in the corner. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, where the five bedrooms, including mine, were.

I could smell my mother's cooking, and I knew that the small hallway would lead to the kitchen and the large living room.

The space felt small as my father patted Logan on the shoulder. "He was free, and we figured this would be a good time for you to get to know him."

I frowned. "I came for my art, and then I need to leave. I'm not staying for dinner."

"You can stay for dinner," my father said. "Your mother is just finishing it up. It's your favorite, Roasted salmon over eggplant with pesto sauce."

I looked at Zenna, who scrunched up her nose.

I looked back at my father. "My favorite food is pizza. And I don't have time. I have a busy schedule."

"Besides, we made dinner plans," Zenna quickly added, smiling sweetly. "We are going out of town, and it took me months to make this reservation, so I think you can understand why we do not want to lose it."

Zenna grabbed my arm, hooking it around mine. "Now, where is your room?"

"I'll show you," Logan said, heading up the stairs.

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