Page 42 of The Grumpy Billionaire Baby Daddy

She was right. I was such an asshole. It's a good thing I've been making up for it, even though nothing will make up for all the times I humiliated her.

“Sorry about that.”

She drops the empty glass in the sink.

“What about you? It’s like 2 am. You just got back from a trip and you should be resting. Why are you up?”

I climb onto the counter, and she does the same, watching me intently.

“I had another nightmare.”

“Another? So…you have nightmares all the time?”

“Yeah.”

I can’t believe how easy it is to spill things to her that I’ve never told anyone else except my therapist. Mom doesn’t even have an idea.

I peer into her face, observing her blank expression. What’s she thinking about?

“How long have you had those?”

“You don’t even want to know.”

“Actually, I do. Tell me about it.”

She places a hand on my lap and looks up at me. Her eyes glow with tenderness. I fall into these eyes every time I look at her. Do I like or hate the feeling? I’m not so sure.

“It’s been like that from high school.”

She lets out a small gasp as her fingers touch her lips.

“That’s like over twenty years. A really long time. And you have them every night?”

“Well, not every night. But yeah, most nights. On a good week, I could go without one, but that’s rare. Although recently…”

My voice trails off. I want to tell her that I’ve gone months without them thanks to her, but how will she receive it?

“Recently what?”

“They disappeared for a while. I guess they’re back, and I don’t know why.”

Or maybe I have a hunch. For the past month, I have been consumed with the demands of my job, traveling incessantly to establish a new branch of Consco in a foreign country. The days blur together, the endless meetings and negotiations blurring into an indistinguishable haze. In the midst of all this, my thoughts constantly drift back to Fiona, wondering how she's faring in my absence. The moments of respite between work obligations are filled with thoughts of her, wondering if she's lonely, if she's taking care of herself, if she misses me even half as much as I miss her. The distance between us feels like a palpable weight, a constant reminder of what I'm missing out on.

“Maybe they disappeared because you weren’t as stressed?”

You have no idea.

“I guess you’re right. But I don’t know for sure.”

“Please tell me you’re in therapy.”

I let out a chuckle.

“Yeah. I’ve had one since my dad died. That’s like since I was twenty-two.”

She jumps off the counter and makes her way to the terrace. I follow behind her. Resting on the silver railing, she looks up at the sky, almost enchanted. I’m enchanted too, but it’s not because of the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

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