Page 3 of His Curvy Temptress

I can’t lose another parent. No. I can’t. I won’t survive.

“There isn’t, honey,” Mom whispers, the pain in her voice hurts to hear. “We’ve exhausted all options.”

“How long has this been going on?” I ask, wondering how long they've kept this from me. I stare at them, they’re both watching me like I’m crazy.

“That’s not important—”

I glare at Dad. “The hell it isn’t,” I fire back. “How long have you known that she’s dying and didn’t tell me?”

His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. “Don’t speak to me that way,” he snaps. “Your mom and I made a decision to keep this to ourselves, we didn’t want anyone to worry.”

“When did you find out that there was no cure?” I ask Mom.

She sighs. “Six months ago.”

I shake my head. Holy fuck. They’ve been keeping it a secret for a long time. “What did the doctors say? How long do you have left?”

Mom begins to weep, dad continues to glare at me, pulling her close to him. “Let’s not do this now,” he growls.

I jump to my feet, hurt and anger washing over me. “No, let’s do this right now. How long does my mom have left before she dies?”

“We don’t know,” he snarls. “Okay, we fucking don’t know. Could be days, could be months, could be fucking years.”

“So you thought, hey, let’s not tell anyone that she was sick. She could die, and Alexis and the rest of the family wouldn’t know so they wouldn’t be able to say their goodbyes?” My tears fall thick and fast, but I don’t brush them away. I’m too damn angry to do so. I get that she’s sick and that she wanted time to come to terms with the diagnosis, but six months of knowing that there’s nothing that could be done and not telling anyone is beyond hurtful.

Mom pulls in a ragged breath. “Honey, we didn’t think like that. Your father and I, we just needed time.”

Dad nods. “She’s dying, Alexis, and your mom and I wanted to be together. I need to be with her and vice versa.”

“What about me?” I ask, hating how little my voice sounds.

“What about you?” he asks, blinking as though he’s confused by my question.

My heart shatters as he continues to watch me. “I’m your daughter,” I say simply.

He shrugs. Fucking shrugs. “She’s my wife.”

I nod. “Okay,” I say, my tears still flowing. I guess what the kids in the foster homes said was true. Never trust anyone, they’ll always hurt you in the end.

“Alexis?” Mom asks as I move toward my bedroom.

“Maggie?” I reply with a raised brow as I turn and look at her.

She blanches, her eyes widening and her lips parting. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me,” I tell them.

It doesn’t take me long to pack a bag, I don’t know where I’m going, nor do I care right now. I call my boss and tell her that I’ll be working remotely for the next week or so. Thankfully, she doesn’t have a problem with it and tells me that she hopes to see me soon, but to take as much time as I need.

She’s the best, she’s always been supportive of me and for me. I’ve been working for her since I was sixteen, and she’s paid for my courses. Jennifer Layma owns a publishing house, and I work as one of the designers there. So working remotely isn’t a problem, it’s just shit that I can’t be in the office with them. I’ve worked my ass off to become a senior designer, working on book covers, branding, and graphics for our clients.

Walking out of my room, I hear my parents talking. “She’s hurting, Andrew, you were very harsh.”

“I didn’t mean to upset her. But she’s old enough to realize she’s not the priority here. You are. We’ve spent the past six years catering to her, she could at least be grateful for that.”

Mom sighs. “I know you weren’t happy with adopting her, Andrew, but you promised you’d always love her.”

Pain rips through me. How did I not see that he didn’t want me? He just wanted his wife happy. God. How was I so foolish?

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