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I’m having my bosshole’s baby.
Safe to say that’s not ideal…
Especially because he doesn’t even know.
As a matter of fact, Kirill is clear across the country, and I’m pretty sure he’s never coming back.
That’s fine.
My daughter and I will be a-okay without him.
At least, that’s what I thought.
But five years goes by like pulling teeth.
And I learn something:
It hurts to do this alone.
It hurts to do this without him.
It hurts to know what could have been, if only we hadn’t both been so unbelievably stubborn with our hearts.
Then, one day, just one I think I can’t bear to hurt anymore…
He’s back.
And I have the chance to say all the things I’ve been waiting five long years to say.
But before I can say it…
Kirill drops a bomb of his own.
