Page 127 of The Spring in My Heart

She’s right. I frown at her, wondering why she’s telling me this.

As if she can read my thoughts, she says, “It’s my last day on the job.”

My jaw hits my chest as the cork pops from the bottle.

“You’re leaving him?”

“Yes.” She pours us glasses and hands one to me. “And since this is also your last day on the job with him, why don’t we make a pact? Let’s get through it together. Tonight, after it’s over, we fuck up the town. Wait, you may want to get back to your boyfriend.”

My gaze dips to the floor.

“Oh.” She sighs. “You’re going through a breakup. And we’re putting you through this shit. No wonder you’re pissed.”

I refuse to let her pity me. “I’ll be okay.”

“Of course you will. So will I, even though I’ve been through the wringer the past few months. I’m doing a palette cleanse after this shit. You can join me in Positano. House on the hill, the beach, and no Mateo or the ex in sight. Plus, plenty of hotties to help you cleanse your palate too.”

I think of how, for the first time since Cam moved to Baltimore, I don’t want to go back there, even though all the people I love are there. I need to get away. I need to figure out how to live in the townhouse Ollie made beautiful for me.

The last thing I want right now is the memory of us everywhere I look. I can work from anywhere. And Maeven has always been cool. Even though she’s on Mateo’s payroll, she has always taken care of me too. She made sure to divert attention from the media and kept his side chicks away from me at events.

“Best offer I’ve ever had.”

“You can play this interview in whatever way you want, as long as you’re cordial. Tonight, you can host the ball and ignore him in your revenge, fuck-me dress. I have a contact at Clotho who will find you a number that will leave their tongues wagging. After that, you’re done, all while making your Baltimore bae so jealous he’ll want to throw himself headfirst into the Inner Harbor. I will make sure my media contacts show the world how happy, beautiful, and desired you are.”

That’s what I want. I don’t want anyone to pity me. Even if I die inside, I want it to look like I’m on top of the world.

We shake hands and throw back our glasses. She pours refills, and we throw them back.

“Let’s put this asshole to bed, for the last time,” I say, wishing I could do the same with the ache in my heart and my love for Ollie.

Oliver

The sky opens on my way to Mrs. Morales’s house. The raindrops splat on my windshield. It’s raining hard, but I swear if I stood under it, I wouldn’t get wet. It would sizzle off my skin. Because on the way to this suburb, all I can see is my baby’s face and hear Adri’s words. Maybe Lux lied because she couldn’t stand to see Ayla in pain. But still, it bends me that she kept this from me. I can’t forgive her.

Because here I am, standing outside this fucking house, looking for Noris.

Again.

The last time I came looking for her, she had walked out of the house and left Ayla alone while I was on my way from work. She called to tell me she was leaving and that I needed to come home.

That day, her mother had stood at the door and told me she needed time. She asked me to come back in the morning. She felt I needed to give her daughter some time. She thought it was postpartum depression. The next day, I had to stand there as she told me, with red-rimmed eyes, that her daughter had left and handed me the envelope with divorce papers.

I loosen my grip on the steering wheel and throw the door open, the rain immediately making its way inside my truck. As it turns out, I was wrong. The drops fall over my head and start drenching my clothes. I make up my mind quickly, pushing off the seat and slamming the door shut. I’m in front of the suburban house within minutes, knocking on the door.

Mrs. Morales’s eyes widen when she sees me, her mouth slack.

“Ma’am, you know why I’m here. Please tell your daughter to come out.”

She recovers fast, clearing her throat. “Oliver, it’s pouring. You should?—”

I shake my head. “I’m not coming back another day. I’m here to speak to Noris. I know she’s here. Please call her.”

She nods. “Come on in, then.” She turns away from me. “I’ll go get her.”

“Wait,” I say, waiting until she stops. “I trusted you. I never kept Ayla away from you. I let you have access to her without restrictions, and here you were, letting your daughter talk to the child she left behind.”

“She’s my daughter, Oliver.” She says my name now like she used to prior to Noris leaving me—with soft disdain.

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