And that’s where I stopped reading. She continued over the week, but I hadn’t read them, until I sat there with time on my hands.
SASHA: You’re such an asshole. I’m not surprised that you refuse to look at anything that challenges your way of thinking. Typical toxic male behavior, I guess.
She wasn’t wrong.
SASHA: When are you going to get your head out of your ass? I miss her too, you know? But I’m not ready to give up on life, neglect everything that matters. You could have lost a lot more that day. You should consider yourself lucky you still have a daughter. She needs her dad. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and be the man she needs you to be, the man your wife knew you were.
That was it. That was the last thing she’d sent me before the message she’d sent earlier, letting me know that she had plans. I didn’t answer, so she called Monica, just as I’d told her to.
I tossed the phone onto my desk and took a sip of whiskey. Leaning back in my chair, letting my head rest against it, I closed my eyes.
The words I’d read stuck with me, and they were heavy. I knew she was right, but I had no idea how to change anything. I didn’t know how to get over my wife. I didn’t know how to be a father. That was something I was supposed to learn over the years by watching my wife and child. When she was taken away, it felt like my whole world had exploded, sending pieces here and there in a scattered mess. Over the years, I’d found some pieces that I managed to put back together, but even then, it wasn’t the same.
My thoughts changed from my wife and child to Sasha. My world had been turned upside down again, but it wasn’t from an explosion. It was from her. She was a good person. She was determined to make me wake up. She wanted to change me, fix me. I didn’t know if I could be fixed. I was broken beyond repair. That was the only way I could explain it.Broken, fucked-up, wrecked.Why else would I have been thinking of her the way I had?
Sure, her text messages had pissed me off, but that’s not the whole reason why I’d been avoiding and ignoring her. That was what I told myself, but deep down, I knew the real reason. She had gotten under my skin. I couldn’t sleep without dreaming of those vibrant green eyes. I imagined how soft and silky her raven locks would feel wound around my fist as I thrusted into that tight body of hers. Just imagining it made my cock ache, and that’s when I was hit with the guilt.
My eyes opened, and my hand tightened on my glass as I brought it to my mouth, finishing off the amber liquid. I found the time on the computer screen and realized it was well past curfew. I grabbed my phone and pulled up Life360, which was tracking her exact location to a rather popular nightclub. It wasn’t the kind of club that a group of college kids could get into. It was the kind of place where everyone was someone: models, influencers, millionaires who were cheating on their wives, actors, and musicians.
Worry settled in my gut as I wondered who in the fuck got her into a place like that? I worried enough when I knew she was with her group of friends from school, but knowing she was getting involved with people who thought they could buy anything they wanted, anyone… My jaw clenched as I dialed her number.
“Hello?” she shouted from the other end, loud music nearly blowing my eardrum.
“Where the fuck are you?”
“What’s it matter? It’s my night off,” she slurred.
“It’s past curfew,” I reminded her.
“Oh my God, Roman. You act like I’m a child. It’s my night off. Why do I need a curfew?” She sounded like a teenager getting called out for breaking curfew.
“If you live in my house, you live by my goddamn rules. Do I need to remind you of the contract you signed? Now, get thefuck home before I come and get you. And I promise, you don’t want me to come after you. I will drag you back here, kicking and screaming. Then I’ll bend you over my knee and spank your bare ass like the spoiled brat you are.”
The threat slipped out. I hoped she didn’t take it the way it sounded, but her pause told me that’s exactly how she took it.
“ I-I’m on my way,” she stuttered, hanging up the phone.
I tossed my phone onto my desk, and I stood, moving toward the drink cart again to pour another glass. I hoped the whiskey helped to cool my anger, and it did—some. But what it really did was make me think about her more, and thanks to being the fucked up person I was, I worried.Maybe I shouldn’t have threatened her like that. I bet nobody has ever threatened her like that, not even her father. Is she scared or worried about me being mad at her? What if she’s in such a hurry to get home that she gets into an accident?
I marched back to my desk and grabbed my phone, pulling up the security feed of the parking garage. My car was there, as was the car she would drive when she had Sophia. Her shitty car was there too. I breathed a sigh of relief the moment I realized that she wasn’t planning on driving. It was obvious that she’d been drinking. At least she had enough foresight to see that before leaving.
I hired Sasha as my daughter’s nanny, but I found myself worrying about her as if she were more than just a staff member. I worried like she meant something to me. And it wasn’t just because if I lost her, I’d be screwed when it came to a nanny for Sophia. It was deeper than that, but I refused to admit it, and I had no intentions of digging in.
There was a part of me that wanted to protect her as I would someone I loved. I wanted the best for her, and I wanted her to be smart and safe when I couldn’t protect her.
On the other hand, the things I wanted to do to her were things that I could never admit out loud. I knew I was fucked up for thinking the things I had, but I told myself that everything would be okay as long as I could keep myself from acting on them.
I thought about what Monica had said about how Sasha was dressed, how no woman would go out like that if she didn’t intend on having a good time, and I had to pour myself another drink. I wanted to see what this looked like.
At the same time, I didn’t know if I could trust myself. Could I see her looking like she needed to get fucked and not do the job myself? I worried about the so-called friends she’d been out with. No doubt they were the same group I saw her with before. I knew for a fact that one of them was interested in more than just friendship.
I could see it in the way he looked at her, at how he let his innocent touch linger just a moment too long. Was Sasha aware of his feelings? And if she was, did she feel the same way? Did she get all dressed up for this guy?
It’s not like it mattered. She was on her way home to me, meaning that I had interrupted whatever plans they had made. Nobody started the night off fucking. That was saved for the end, the part I pulled her away from.
A slow smile spread across my face as I brought my glass to my lips.
I’d really become a prick.
