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“Shaw. Pl-please. You need to give us another chance. Please. I’ll do anything.”
Shaw’s Adam’s apple bobs at her words, emotion clogging his throat too.
“Please. We can make it work,” she begs again, her eyes imploring his.
I wince at the desperation in her tone, and my heart races with panic at wondering how he will react. Internally, I’m begging him not to.
Where will this leave me and bump and ultimately, Shaw. There’s far too much at stake.
I step forward to interject. “Shaw?”
His sharp eyes snap toward mine. His jaw tics in annoyance, making me take a step back at the cruel glare behind them.
“Emi.” He drags a hand through his hair and exhales loudly. “Just give us a fucking minute, would you?” His voice booms, making me and Lizzie jump, but as I hold onto the desk in shock at his reaction, she clings onto him.
I stare back at him and open my mouth to apologize.
“Just go, will you?” His voice is low, and he averts his gaze, hurting me in the process. He can’t even look at me.
My pulse races, laced in sadness as I rush toward his office door. I don’t miss the thank you that Lizzie sniffles into his chest as the door clicks shut behind me.
I take a deep breath and walk to the waiting area, taking a seat on one of the couches with anxiety coursing through my veins, making me bite on my fingernails and bounce my leg as I unravel in despair.
Minutes tick by but I can’t bring myself to knock on the door.
“Can I help you?” A lady stares down at me with a polite smile. I think she’s one of the receptionists.
“I... I.” I cringe at my inability to form a sentence. Before taking a deep breath, straightening my spine, I start again, only this time as the Mafia princess who doesn’t show emotion.
“I’m waiting for Shaw, thank you.”
She glances toward Shaw’s office, then back at me before bending down and lowering her voice. “Between you and me. He’s in there with his girlfriend, so he’ll probably be in there a while, if you catch my drift?” She gives me a sultry wink before walking away. A wave of sickness rolls through me, and I squeeze my eyes closed at the hurt in my chest.
My throat feels dry at the thought of his staff not being aware that he’s now married.
To me.
And yet I’m the one sitting outside his office while he does god-knows-what with his ex beyond the door. Disappointment and dread fill my stomach. I’m the other woman, the one that gets used for them to pump and dump inside.
Bump takes this moment to kick, and I feel the force right in my gut, making me suck in a sharp breath. It’s like a reminder of what I’m doing here. A reminder of who I am.
Snapping my eyes open with renewed vigor, I check my watch. Staring back at the door, I realize we need to be leaving to get there in time for the scan.
I tell myself to not let the anxiety creep in. The horrible ache inside my chest is burning and spreading like a wildfire through my entire body, burning away any semblance of a relationship we were developing behind the office door.
A throat clears beside me. “Miss. I’m sorry to interrupt you, but if you want to make the scheduled appointment, we need to be leaving now.” One of my additional security men points out delicately, as if sensing my unease.
I glance at my watch again, disappointed that another fifteen minutes has gone by and they’re still in there. The receptionist’s words come back to me. “He’ll probably be in there a while.” Followed by Shaw’s words, “You don’t have to knock, family doesn’t knock.” Lizzie didn’t knock, and the realization sends a feeling of sadness through me. I hug myself for comfort.
Is this what it’s going to be like? Him, her, me, and the baby. Like all the other Mafia families, I guess. I was hoping for so much more.
I bite my lip to stifle the threat of my emotion spilling over.
“Should I see if Mr. Varros is available?” my security suggests, making my heart swell with hope that I don’t have to approach the door.
“Please.” I stand and brush down invisible lint to steel myself.
He knocks on the door.
