Page 58 of Deal Breaker
My heart is pounding—wild and erratic—as I press the phone to my ear and sink down onto the closed lid of the toilet, my pulse still buzzing with everything I just walked away from.
“Hi, Mom,” I say again, forcing air into my lungs. “Is everything okay?”
There’s a beat of silence on her end, and then, “Everything’s fine, honey. Poppy just wanted to say goodnight. She got a little upset when she didn’t get to talk to you before bed.”
My eyes sting. Guilt coils tighter in my chest. “Oh. Yeah. No—I’m glad you called.” I lower my voice, like that’ll help contain everything I’m not ready to spill. “Put her on?”
There’s some shuffling, the muffled sound of footsteps, and then that tiny, sleepy voice comes through the speaker.
“Hi, Mama.”
My throat catches. “Hi, baby.”
“I made a card for you,” she tells me. “It has a bunny on it. Grandma said we’ll put it on the fridge tomorrow.”
I close my eyes, resting my forehead in my hand. “I can’t wait to see it. Did you have a good day?”
She tells me about pancakes and the swimming pool and how Grandma let her stay up 15 extra minutes. Her voice is soft and sleepy and full of love and here I am, hiding half-naked in a hotel bathroom, caught between the man I once loved and the daughter he doesn’t know exists.
“Are you coming home tomorrow?” she asks.
I blink back the burn in my eyes. “Not yet. Just a couple more sleeps, okay?”
“Okay,” she says. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The line goes quiet. My mom comes back on. “She’s okay now. Just missed you.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Thanks for calling.”
There’s a pause on her end. “Landyn?”
“Yeah?”
“You have to tell him.”
I close my eyes. “I know,” I whisper, and for the first time, I mean it.
We hang up. I set the phone down on the counter and stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my hair a mess, my eyes still lit with the leftover sparks of something I almost let happen. Something I still want so badly it aches.
I exhale, steadying myself, then I open the bathroom door.
Ford is sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, jeans half-undone, elbows braced on his knees. His head lifts when he hears the door. His eyes meet mine, and I know.
He doesn’t understand what just happened, but heknows something’s off, and he knows it’s big. He’s going to start asking questions and he won’t let me dodge them for long. I tell myself I can’t do it this weekend. Ford needs to focus on Cove and putting out the fire from bad publicity. Once I get through this weekend, I’ll tell him about Poppy.
His eyes scan me—slowly, carefully, like he’s reading every line of my face, every inch of skin that’s still flushed from what almost happened.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low.
I nod. “Yeah. Just… my mom.” Not a lie, not the whole truth either.
He doesn’t say anything right away.
“She just wanted to check in. All good.” I force a soft smile, something light, like everything between us didn’t just shift on its axis.
Ford leans back slightly, studying me like he’s trying to decide what to believe. “Everything’s good,” he echoes. It doesn’t sound like a question.
