“It’s from Nastya. She knows how much I love forget-me-nots, so she asked her sister to buy it for me in Minsk.”
“Can I?” I reach forward but pause an inch from her throat. “I saw flowers like this when we were on tour in Europe. Your eyes arethe same color.”
Those gorgeous blue eyes sparkle as she leans in, pulling her pendant forward so I can look at it more closely. Each of the flower’s petals curves gently, as if caught in a light breeze. In the center, a golden bead perfectly contrasts the blue enamel and little diamonds around it. It’s elegant and beautiful, and it suits Riley to a tee.
“I’ll keep in mind that they’re your favorites.”
She lets out a small huff, as if she doesn’t believe me.
Jaw clenched, I will myself not to argue with her, not to defend myself. She doesn’t trust me, and I can’t blame her. I have to put in the work to prove to her she can count on me.
“I actually love just about any kind of flower. I always have a bouquet at home.” She fiddles with her pendant. “But blue flowers are my favorites.”
I lean back, grinning at her. “Figures. Goddess of flowers and all that.”
A short laugh bubbles out of her. “Goddess of flowers?”
“Uh-huh.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Persephone’s got nothing on you.”
She blinks, and the air between us shifts, grows thick. “You know she wasn’t just flowers, right? She was the goddess of spring growth.”
“And queen of the underworld too.” I cock a brow and smirk.
She rolls her eyes, though her lips tip up. Then, she checks her phone and clears her throat. “We better go. I need to get my things from your place before I meet Nastya for lunch.”
A sharp pain pierces my heart, and bitterness fills my mouth. All the playfulness disappears. I hate the idea of her leaving, but I need to respect her wishes.
So, I stand and pick up both of our cups before I guide her toward the car.
It’s beena week since our visit to Dr. Bell, a week since I last saw Riley.
We’ve texted, nothing more, and I’m dying to see her. So, I begged her to have lunch with me this afternoon.
At ten, Glenn’s name flashes on my phone. I’m not in the mood, and I want to finish my coffee, so I contemplate letting it go to voicemail. But with a sigh, I answer, “Hey.”
“The word is out.” Glenn’s words are sharp, cutting through me like a knife slicing cake.
My pulse spikes. “What word?”
“About the pregnancy.”
Every muscle in my body locks up tight. I swallow the bile rising in my throat. “Anything about the mother?”
“Not yet.”
Those two words send me spiraling. The media was relentless after Owen’s suicide, and I know this news will be like a fucking explosion.
“I’m sending you an email with a list of outlets running the story,” Glenn continues. “Brace yourself, Hade. Paparazzi are going to be hounding you, and if they find out who the girl is, they won’t leave her alone either.”
Riley…
I slip my fingers into my hair, tugging at the roots. This is a fucking nightmare. She doesn’t want attention. She wants to avoid being in the public eye. The mere thought of cameras flashing in her face makes me want to put my fist through the wall.
“I’ll handle it,” I grind out, heading to my bedroom to change my clothes. There’s no way I’m waiting for our lunch date. “Thanks.”
“Anything you need—just let me know.”
I hang up without saying goodbye and call Wyatt, pacing my walk-in closet like a caged animal. “Hey. How fast can you meet me in the underground garage?”
