Page 44 of Worship Him

Destiny"

Guilt gnaws at me, but I can't face him right now. Not after last night.

Avery stirs in my arms as I sneak out the front door. The cool morning air hits my face, an icy contrast to the warmth of Adam's bed.

I hurry to my car, buckling Avery into her car seat before sliding behind the wheel. The car’s interior is warm and welcoming, but it feels so much colder than the bed I chose to leave like a sneaky thief.

The drive home is kind of a blur. My mind races, replaying every moment of last night. The passion, the urgency, the way Adam's hands felt on my skin. I can still taste him on my tongue, a bittersweet taste that lingers longer than I want it to.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

Back in my apartment, I settle Avery in her crib and collapse onto the couch. What have I done? How could I let this happen?

My phone buzzes, startling me. Mom's name flashes on the screen. Shit. I forgot about their visit.

"Hey, sweetie!" Mom's cheerful voice fills the line. "Just wanted to confirm we're still on for next week. Your father and I can't wait to meet little Avery!"

I force a smile into my voice. "Of course, Mom. Can't wait to see you both."

"Is everything okay, Destiny? You sound stressed."

"I'm fine, just tired. You know how it is with a newborn."

"Well, if you need us to postpone?—"

"No!" I say, too quickly. "No, it's perfect timing. I could use the distraction—I mean, the company."

Mom hesitates. "If you're sure..."

"I am. Really. It'll be great to see you."

As I hang up, relief washes over me. A week with my parents might be exactly what I need to keep my mind off Adam and this mess of things.

I drag myself into the kitchen, determined to salvage this disaster of a morning. Flapjacks. That'll do it.

My go-to comfort food, drizzled with honey. I can almost taste the sweetness on my tongue.

The familiar routine soothes my frayed nerves as I whisk the batter. The sizzle of the pan fills the air, and for a moment, I can pretend everything's normal. That I didn't just sneak out of my almost ex-husband's house after a night of... No. Don't think about that.

"Focus, Destiny," I mutter, flipping a golden-brown flapjack onto the growing stack.

The honey bottle gurgles as I drizzle a generous amount over the steaming pile. The rich, sweet scent wafts up, usually enough to make my mouth water. But today…

I settle at the kitchen island, fork poised over my creation. One bite. That's all I need to get my appetite going. But as soon as the flapjack touches my tongue, I know it's hopeless. It tastes like cardboard, the honey cloying and artificial.

"Dammit," I growl, shoving the plate away.

With a frustrated sigh, I grab the plate and dump its contents into the trash. The clatter of dishes in the sink echoes my mood—discordant and harsh. I scrub furiously, as if I could wash away last night's memories along with the sticky remnants of honey.

I tiptoe into Avery's room, my heart softening at the sight of her peaceful slumber. Her tiny chest rises and falls, a soothing rhythm amidst the chaos in my mind. I brush a curl from her forehead, marveling at how much she looks like Adam.

"Sweet dreams, little one," I whisper, reluctantly tearing myself away.

Back in the living room, I grab my laptop, determined to lose myself in work. After opening it, a folder catches my eye.

The slideshow. The one I made for Adam, sharing memories of Avery. The one I haven’t had the courage to show him yet.

My fingers tremble as I open it. Images of Avery's first moments flood the screen. Moments Adam missed because of my choices.

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