Ellis
Yes! Let’s get back on Ford’s case and forget about breaking my face.
Hayes
Not a chance.
Burkley
Nope.
Adler
I’ll pray for you.
I chuckle with a head shake and set my phone on the nightstand, checking the time as I plug it in.Shit, already 4:00 in the morning. No point in sleeping now when the little one will be up in two or three hours. I’ll just nap on the plane.
I head into the bathroom and take a shower, get changed, and pack up my suitcase for later. Then I head downstairs, get the coffee machine started, and decide on what to make for breakfast.
It’s 6:00 in the morning when I hear Gracie’s babbling through the monitor. I quickly take everything off the stovetop, not wanting to ruin all my hard work, and take the stairs two at a time. I quickly grab my little girl, change her diaper and pajamas, then go back to the kitchen.
I try to keep Gracie as quiet as possible by handing her small pieces of fruit until I finish making breakfast. I know Em had a rough night, and I want to let her rest as much as possible.
An hour later, footsteps sound from above, and I know Emma’s awake. I warm up her food, set her plate out, and make her coffee in a heart-shaped mug she got during her birthday trip.
A few minutes later, she comes into view, and I hate what I see. Her face is red like she viciously rubbed it clean, probably to hide her red, swollen eyes. Even the tip of her nose is red. She was clearly crying this morning too…
But that’s not what guts me the most. No. It’s the look of indifference she carries even with all the evidence that points otherwise. I know it’s a facade, a blank mask to hide how she really feels, but it still sucks to see it.
I walk over to Gracie’s highchair and pass my fingers through her messy hair that I haven’t taken the time to brush yet. “Look, Buttercup, Mommy’s finally awake.” Gracie squeals and claps her hands when she notices Emma, stretching them out toward her for her morning cuddles.
Bunny visibly stiffens at the name, pain flashing in her eyes before she shakes it all away. She takes the few steps toward our girl with a stern look directed at me. “Don’t do that. Don’t say something one day and then change your mind the next. You’ve made it clear I’m not her mother, so don’t start acting like I am,” she spits harshly in a low tone.
“But you are.”
“Stop. Please. I don’t want to fight. I’m here to do my job, which is taking care of Gracie, nothing else.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back from saying anything else…for now.
She wants me to stop, but she should know better. There’s no way I’m stopping. No way I’m letting those nasty words lingerin her mind any longer than necessary. No, I’m going to keep telling her how I feel, keep showing her until she finally believes it. It will probably piss her off, but I don’t care.
Em comes to stand before Gracie, her face transforming to one of adoration as her hand cups our daughter’s cheek. “Good morning, Gracie,” she says and kisses her crown once. She then quickly straightens and looks away, letting go altogether and walking over to her seat where her plate waits.
She doesn’t look over as Gracie continues to try and get her attention. Instead, she keeps her eyes trained on the food in front of her. She didn’t pick her up or hug her like she would normally do. She didn’t say something silly or tell her how beautiful she looked this morning. She didn’t call her Little Tulip.
I know what Em’s doing. She’s distancing herself from Gracie because she feels it’s what she needs to do. And it fucking devastates me.I won’t tolerate that.
I remove Gracie from her highchair since she’s been feasting for the past hour and set her down with her toys in the living room, hoping that will distract her from Emma for the time being.
“I see you have a theme going on here,” Em says as she picks up her fork. She’s right, I may have overdone it, and it may come off as cheesy as fuck, but I don’t care. I’m trying to get a message through.
Her plate contains heart-shaped pancakes, heart-shaped eggs, and heart-shaped bread. I also made heart-shaped fruit kebabs, heart-shaped strawberry cream cheese pastries, and a white chocolate and raspberry smoothie. Along with her coffee in a heart-shaped mug.
I think the message is pretty clear.
“Only the best for the woman I love.” I stand on the opposite side of the island and watch her as I sip my second coffee.
She doesn’t look up at me as she speaks in an uncertain voice. “What are you doing, Greyson?”
