Page 16 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

She blinks at me, clearly taken aback by my harsh tone. For a second, her expression softens, and then, immediately sharpens again.

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission for everything, Nate.”

“You do when it comes to Max,” I snap, more harshly than I mean to. “I’m his father. You can’t do whatever you feel like.”

Her eyes flare, and for a moment, I’m caught off guard by the fire in them. That fire—it’s... captivating. The way her anger makes her cheeks flush, the way her lips press together.

Damn it, she’s even more beautiful when she’s angry, and that only fuels my frustration. I don’t want this attraction to her, not now. Not like this.

“You’re overreacting,” she says, her voice rising.

“We only came to the park. We had fun. It’s not like I took him out of the country, Nate.”

“That’s not the point!” My voice raises, matching hers, and I step closer, the heat between us palpable.

“The point is, you don’t get to make decisions about Max without talking to me first. You're not his mother.”

She stares at me for a moment, her chest rising and falling, and for a split second, I see the hurt flicker across her face. But it’s gone just as fast, replaced by that same fire.

“You know what, Nate? You're right I'm not his mother. I'm sorry for overstepping. I thought I could bond with Max but clearly, I'm wrong.” She steps back; her voice steady but edged with anger.

“I didn’t come here to make things difficult for you. I thought I was helping.”

I open my mouth to respond, but she’s already turning away, her steps quick and determined.

“Liz—” I start, reaching out, but she doesn’t stop.

She raises her hand, hailing a taxi as one comes down the street. I watch, helpless and furious, as she gets into the cab and slams the door behind her.

The cab pulls away, and I’m left standing there. I watch her disappear down the road, the weight of everything crashing down on me. The anger. The frustration. And worse... the guilt.

I run a hand through my hair, turning to see Max still playing, completely oblivious to the tension that just exploded between Liz and me. My heart sinks as I walk over to him, plastering a fake smile on my face as I call out to him.

“Hey, buddy. Time to go.”

Max runs over, a question already on his lips.

“Where’s Liz?”

“She had to go,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. Max’s face falls, and guilt washes over me again. He looks up at me, his small eyes wide with confusion, and I feel like I’ve just ruined something good for him.

We head back to the car, and as I drive us home, Max keeps asking about Liz—why she left, when she’ll be back. I give him short answers, trying to stay calm, but the truth is, I’m not calm at all.

Because deep down, I know I messed up. And the worst part? I don’t even know how to fix it.

***

I pace the length of my bedroom, my mind a swirling mess of anxiety and guilt. Liz still hasn’t come back. It’s been hours, and she hasn’t even called. Every second that ticks by only adds to the gnawing feeling in my chest. I’ve called half the damn town, but no one has seen her.

She vanished after our argument at the park. The thought of her out there alone, angry and upset, sends my heart racing in a way that makes no sense.

I glance at my phone, the screen blank. No calls. No texts. My fingers hover over her contact, but I stop myself. Would she evenanswer if I called? After the way I snapped at her, I wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to speak to me again.

I run a hand through my hair, frustration boiling over. How could I have let things get so out of hand? She was just trying to do something nice for Max, and I bit her head off. I can’t stop replaying the way her eyes flared with anger, the fire in her voice when she told me off. She was right, every word she said.

The thought of her leaving, of her being gone for good, twists something inside me that I don’t really want to examine. It’s more than the fact that she’s Bryan’s sister and I’m supposed to be looking out for her. It’s something else—something I don’t want to name.

I stop in front of the window, staring out into the dark night. Where is she? What if something happened to her? My chest tightens at the thought, and I pick up my phone again, dialing another number. I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve called tonight.

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