Page 24 of Worship Him

A pang of something—jealousy?—stabs through me.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the unwelcome emotion. It’s ridiculous to feel this way. I swallow hard, but the bitterness lingers like bad coffee.

We talked about this once, Destiny and I. The future, kids, a family. And she threw it all away for someone else’s child. The thought ignites a fire of resentment in my chest.

“You got this!” A man’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

I glance up to see the dad smiling at his son. “You’re doing great, buddy! Keep going.”

The kid giggles, and the sound twists the knife deeper. My jaw tightens as I turn away from the scene.

Destiny chose all that with someone else. She betrayed everything we had for another man’s child. My fingers dig into my palms as I unlock my car and slide in behind the wheel.

The leather seats are cool against my back, but they do nothing to calm the heat boiling inside me.

She was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be… wonderful.

I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. “Screw this,” I mutter to myself.

As I start the engine, the growl of the car drowns out the sounds of laughter from outside. I reverse out of the parking spot and drive off without looking back at that picture-perfect family.

I hit the road with more force than necessary, every bump and jolt feeding my frustration. How could she do this? How could she destroy everything we built together?

The road ahead blurs as thoughts of her and that child fill my mind. Resentment simmers just below the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

But deep down—buried under layers of anger—is something else: a sense of loss that refuses to be ignored.

I drive on, each mile taking me further from that courthouse but no closer to peace. The city blurs past in a smear of colors, but my mind is stuck on her.

Barrett’s hand on her back. Her tears. That baby.

“Cheating,” I mutter, the word sour in my mouth. It’s the only explanation that fits. But the nagging doubt remains, scratching at the back of my mind.

I pull into the parking garage of my office building and park in my usual spot. The concrete walls close in around me, but it’s a familiar pressure, a welcome distraction from the chaos outside.

I stride into the lobby, nodding at Maria, our receptionist. She gives me a worried look but says nothing.

“Morning, Mr. Ryder,” she finally says as I pass by.

“Morning,” I reply curtly, heading straight for the elevator. Work. I need to bury myself in work.

The elevator doors slide shut with a quiet hiss, and I jab at the button for my floor. As it ascends, I force myself to think about anything other than Destiny and the child.

The doors open to reveal the buzzing hive of my company. People scurry about, phones ring, keyboards clatter—a symphony of productivity.

“Adam!” Derek calls from his desk as I walk by. “Got those reports you wanted.”

“Awesome,” I say without breaking stride. “Bring them to my office.”

My office is a sanctuary of glass and steel. The view of the city skyline does little to calm me today, but it’s better than staring at the walls.

Derek follows me in, clutching a stack of papers. He lays them on my desk and stands there awkwardly.

“You alright?” he asks after a moment.

“Never better,” I lie, flipping through the reports. “What’s this?”

“Financial projections for the quarter,” he says. “And an update on the newest app launch.”

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