Gabriel
The em pulls in the comb and I open the dom
Have a nice day.”
“Maksays and climb out of the car.
I walk in though the front doors of the Terrata Imilding and stri to the elevator. Roderick the attendant gives me a polite nod as he pushes th butten. “Good morning, Mi. Terrain.”
Morning
1 stare at the hoops as I straighten my tie, Lean feel all eyes on me as I wait.
“Beautiful day today.” Roderick says, trying to make polite conversation..
Why is this elevator so slow?
Looking forward to getting to work today, sir?”
My unimpressed eyes rise to meet his. “Why are
Why are you so chai
130 chatty?
“Oh.” He gives me a lopsided smile. I think it makes things less awkward.”
My eyes hold his. I disagree.”
The doors open and I walk past him into it and turn toward the front, I see his face fall as the doors close.
Tigh, every morning he annoys me with his perky can–do attitude.
I dont want to talk to you.
Fuck off.
I push the button and begin the climb to the top floor, the elevator stops on level three and exhale heavily.
The doors open and two men are waiting to get in, their faces fall when they see me and
“Sorry. Mr. Ferrara.” They stay where they are.
I push the button to close the doors. I need a private elevator to this godforsaken place.
Once upon a time I would get here earlier and train before work, I haven’t done that since.
an eyebrow
I run at home now before I come, the urge to get into the office early has left along with Miss Whitmore. It’s no fun getting dressed in front of Grego fact, it’s no fun with Greg at all.
He’s the most boring person I’ve ever met. Actually, the entire office is boring now.
I’ve always been a workaholic, prided myself for my dedication to Ferrara Media.
But lately I hate coming here.
I hate walking past her empty desk, I hate that nobody rolls their eyes at me or talks back and gives me cheek. I hate that I can’t feel her eyes on me as I get dressed. I hate that I don’t feel my dick tingle when she chews the end of her pen.
Thate that she left me
The doors open and I walk through reception “nod morning. Mr
Ferrara.”
“No visitors Inday “
“Yes, sir
Lopen the doors and walk through the desks, I see a few people standing and talking in the photocopier room and my blood boilt, what do they think
I march over, their faces fall when they see me “This isnt a tea party
Get back to work”
Yes, sir.” They scatter like mice.
I walk into my office, slam the door, throw my briefcase onto the table and fall in my chair
This place is fucking ruined
Arla
Debbie’s wide eyes hold m
Leath
“Like twin twins, like two babies twins?”
Yep.
“Hmm.” Deb has been shocked to silence, she sips her coffee as she chooses her neat words carefully. Well. This is great,” the Lies.
I stare at her deadpan “And how is this great?”
“Well.” She holds her hands up all animated like. “Your family is done, you can stop after this if you want.
The stopping, one hundred percent Ell be stopping.” I sip my stupid decal coffee as I think, even my coffee is ruined now. “A household where the children outnumber the adults is. Busy Deb cuts me off. Youll be busy.” I nod, not wanting to be a downer.
“Oh my gosh, I saw the cutest thing in the shop in the way here. I getting it for you on the way out
“What is it?”
“A memory box.”
“What’s that? I frown
“You know, like a cute little box that you put memorabilia in for your pregnancy. Your ultrasound pictures and any little notes or cards you get along
the way.
“I don’t want a memory box”
“Why not?”
“Because the way I’m feeling, all I want to write it is how this is all so unfair and I don’t want my child…” “Children.” Debuts me off.
“Ugh, children to ever find out that I was crushing on my boss. They can never know about Gabriel and our one–night stand.”
You are not fatal attraction. She rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic”
Isip my coffee, annoyed that she’s right, Jam so overdramatic at the moment, I can feel myself doing it but can’t seem to stop.
“Fine, I’ll buy you two One for the kids to find with all the cute fluffy stuff, and the other memory box a dumping ground for your heartbeak crap.”
“Why would I want a dumping ground for my heartbreak?”
Mayhny Hubby. I’m DONE
E Being Your Submissive Wife!
28.5%
It will be therapeute to write everything down and when you’re past this stage of your life and happily in love, you can throw this one out. Nobody will ever know and the kids will still have their fluffy feel good motorny him in Jork through “
“Maybe.” I sigh distincted.
Tvery time you put sunsethin
: sunsething in the happy memory boot, you need to put something in the dumpster fire hor”
I smile, something about that name tickles my fancy. “We’re calling it a dumpster fire hox?
“Why not? You love life is a complete dumpster fire, let’s be honest,” she mutters dryly.
I giggle and hold my coffee cup up to cheers her. “You’ve got that right”
The afternoon glow begins to bounce off the water and I smile. My favorite part of the day is here. Igrali my notepad and pen and slide the glass door open. “You coming out. Bads? Ill
My toffee colored fluffball comes toddling down the stairs, life is bliss, I have a dog now. Huddy is the cutest thing that I never knew I needed. I went to the shelter to get a puppy and came home with an old man, not that I’m complaining, he’s perfect in every way. We wander down the stairs and t
The sun setting over the lake is magical and so of the main reasons I bought this house. Although small and quaint, my home is like a fairy tale, filled with character and to do projects. It’s a cenovator’s delight.
My dream home.
As soon as I saw it I knew that I had to make it mine. Three acres of land situated on a point of the lake with one hundred and eighty degree water views on three sides. There’s a long, sweeping driveway lined with the most beautiful oak trees you have ever seen, and one day I’ll save up enough money to do a proper drive; for the moment it’s dirt road.
At the front of the house is a sweeping veranda, a separate garage, and a garden, then the back of the house is all glass. It’s like a Swiss chalet with the upstairs inside the shingle rood with beautiful arbor windows.
But the real magic of the house is the private wharf.
My very own private piece of paradise. You walk out of my back sliding glass doors and onto the veranda, down six steps, and then I’m on the wharf looking straight over the lake.
1 have a deck chair and I sit our here every afternoon and watch the sun set over the water. For now I drink tea, but I can imagine having an afternoon glass of wine while the children play.
I put my hand protectively over my stomach. I’m six months pregnant
And life is good.
My dumpster fire box has worked a treat and Deb was right, venting on paper and putting it into the box is cathartic. Lately, I’ve turned my venting into poetry. I just write whatever whenever and none of it makes sense, but somehow it makes the feel better. As if releasing all the negativity from inside makes room for all the joy.
I open my notepad and chew on my pen while I think, what will I write today? I think for a
a moment
Iran forgive him for not loving me. What I cant forgive is
is myself, for ever believing that he could.
I close the notepad and the evening breeze whips my hair around, the birds begin to chirp as the beautiful pink glow lights up the sky. It really is a
ht to behold.
The magic is here.
Gabriel
The sound of the engines rear around the cirut, the car pulls in and the pit crew jump into action.
Monaco, the Grand Prix
I’m in the marquee that’s overlooking the track. “Here you go, sir.” The water delivers my scotch on a tray.
“Thank you“The atmosphere is electric, the crowd huge with beautiful people everywhere you look.
So where are you hated? the beautiful blonde asks.
“New York”
“My favorite city in the work
We have something e in common.” I raise my glass.
I’m sure we have a lot in common. “She gives me a sexy smile and look over her shoulder and see the unmistakable asburn hair.
Is that
I watch the woman from behind, wearing a red dress and laughing as she talks to someone. My heart skips a heut.
Chapter 46
Aria.
