Page 66 of Baby For The Billionaire Silver Fox

“Better than I was so that my parents would love me,” I said softly, not looking at him.

He stilled.

“But, I guess that only worked in Pinocchio when he wished he could become a real boy. Maybe I needed my own Jiminy Cricket to make my wishes come true,” I said brightly, trying to back-pedal from the serious shit I just laid at the poor man’s feet.

“Nik,” he side-hugged me, somehow knowing I didn’t want his pity right now. “What was the deal with your parents?”

“Eh, you don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. I really do.”

“They didn’t abuse me if that’s what you’re thinking. They just pretty much ignored me. They got married because they ‘had to’”, I said, adding air quotes. “And they’ve spent every minute of their lives being miserable. They hate each other, but they’re still married. I honestly think they get off on tearing each other down as often as possible. I was the reason they got married, and they never forgave me for it.”

“So they got you to the age of being able to open a cereal box and feed yourself and then left you to your own devices?” he said, and I could feel his rage wafting off him in waves.

“My father spends his time working, and when he’s home, he’s either arguing with my mother or holed up in his home office. I think he would have been a tiny bit less disappointed if I had been a boy. My mother spends her days complaining about him, or her health. And she is very concerned about her health.”

“Child Protective Services should have been called.”

“No doubt. But I was more inclined to stick with the rotten known than risk a horrible unknown.”

“I can understand that.”

“It wasn’t always the worst. My friends would invite me on their summer vacations, and their parents sort of looked out for me if I really needed help with something. When I was a kid, anyway. When I was older, I had my pride.”

“Did your parents buy you clothes? Coats? Shoes?”

“Yes. Well, they paid for stuff, but I was the one who went out and got it. If I grew out of my clothes or my shoes didn’t fit anymore, I would tell my mom, and she would grudgingly give me money. I’d take the bus to Walmart and get what I needed.”

“Did they pay for nursing school?”

“Hell no,” I snorted. “I didn’t even ask. I’d stopped asking for anything at age 16 when I got my first after-school job.”

“Do you see them now?”

“Rarely, and not if I can help it. It’s exhausting to listen to them argue and complain.”

“What a couple of fucking selfish, self-absorbed losers. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No kid deserves that.”

“I can’t wrap my head around anyone not loving your own child.”

“Scary thought, right? Apparently, it happens,” I commented.

Lord knew my own fears of being able to love my baby enough. I didn’t want to be like my parents. I wanted to love my baby fiercely and have a strong bond with her. I didn’t know what that looked like, but I was going to make damn sure it happened. She would feel wanted.

“That’s enough talk about my sad childhood. I bet you wish I hadn’t opened my mouth.”

Dan turned me gently to face him and tilted my face up so he could look me in the eye. “I don’t understand people sometimes. I’m sorry you had such a shitty childhood. And I’m truly in awe of how well you turned out—despite what you went through.”

He leaned down and gave me a tender kiss on the lips before folding me into a warm embrace. I breathed him in and fed off his energy and compassion.

“Are your parents around?” I asked him.

“My dad lives in Chicago. My mom died four years ago. She was a remarkable woman, and I miss her,” he said.

“That’s sad. I wish I could have met her.”

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