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Despite the increasing pressure from her clients’ high expectations, despite having to come home late feeling tired and hungry, despite having to sleep a few hours each night while she struggled to find a balance between work and family – she didn’t regret one bit of it.
Even with her heart still broken, even when she could still cry at the drop of a hat just by thinking about Kyr, she could not stop herself from feeling proud, couldn’t stop herself from feeling happy and accomplished every time she saw how her work made other people smile and bring tears of joy to their eyes.
Life was almost perfect.
Almost.
She just had to stop loving him first, but it was something easier said than done.
Her first day living in their Athens’ home, Kyr had asked if he could drive her home from work, and – in a moment of weakness as well as being partly motivated by guilt over reducing the amount of time he had with their children – Pollyanna had said yes.
She had thought it would be a one-off thing, but instead it had become a daily occurrence. What time she finished with work didn’t matter. He would always be there, waiting, and he would never complain or ask why she was late.
There were times when she would childishly make him wait, hoping that he would get tired and leave. If he did, it would mean he was a jerk, and she would have more reason to hate him.
But he never did go away.
Like now.
She joined him in his limousine, mumbling her apology while her cheeks flushed with telltale color.
But Kyr only shook his head. “I don’t mind waiting.” And as the car started to move, he looked at her and asked, “May I take you out to dinner?”
It was a question he had never failed to ask her, every time he came to fetch her from work. It didn’t seem to matter that she had refused him from day one and had continued to do so.
And tonight wasn’t any different.
Shaking her head, she said tonelessly, “I’m sorry, but no.” Because wasn’t that what any self-respecting woman was supposed to say? He had kissed another woman. He had taken her virginity on his ex’s bed. And he had lied about loving her.
She could never forgive him then.
Right?
“Did you get the flowers?” His voice was stilted.
“Yes.” Hers was cold, but only because Pollyanna believed that this was how it was supposed to be. Even when she was still hurting, even when she was still confused about how she felt for Kyr, she believed that she owed it to her children to be strong, and strength, in her mind, meant being cruel to the man who had hurt her.
“And, it’s getting embarrassing, to be honest, the way you seem so clingy, so could you stop sending them to me?” But in truth, she felt the opposite. Every day, Kyr would send flowers to her office, and every day she would cry at the sight of them. But when her tears had dried, she would also hate herself twice as much, thinking she was so damn weak, for still loving him after what he had done.
“I...see.”
In the periphery of her eye, she saw the way Kyr’s hands clenched and unclenched, and she knew she had hurt him.
And that wasn’t wrong, she told herself. Whatever pain he felt now, it was nothing compared to how he had hurt her.
The ride continued in silence, and a part of her hoped it would stay that way. But it didn’t.
“Remember that show you told me about before?”
She shook her head, thinking desperately, Shut up, Kyr. Just shut up.
But he didn’t.
“Teen Wolf,” he said. “Remember?”
Damn it, why was he so masochistic?
“No,” she said shortly.
“Well...I finally found the time to watch it, and it’s great.”
“Oh?” And this time, she heard Kyr suck in his breath at the obnoxious note in her voice.
But it was his fault.
It was his fault!
She didn’t want to be a bitch, but he was forcing her to be one, with the way he just kept playing nice. Didn’t he know that this was the only way for her to survive? Didn’t he know that this was the only way she could prove to herself that she was strong enough to be a proper mother to their children?
Only a weak woman would forgive and forget, and she didn’t want – couldn’t afford – to be weak.
She had to be a strong woman, and a strong woman was someone who would make people who hurt her pay.
Even if she didn’t want to.
When Kyr started to talk again, Pollyanna found herself bursting out, “Will you stop it?” Her voice was shrill and harsh at the same time, but it was only to hide her guilt. She was so, so tired of this constant struggle within herself, of having to continuously remind herself that Kyr was the enemy.
