Waiting For Forever (Beautiful Surrender, Part Four) by Ava Claire Page A
Authors: Ava Claire
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gaze,
thinking about what happened in your office. We’re both ignoring
the elephant in the room." Her smile wavered. "Delilah."
That word snatched all the air from my sails and
breathed fire into my lungs. The good mood, the false sense of
happiness because Melissa was back and all was right in the world,
was turned to cinder and smoke.
I was no fool. Delilah was more than some looming
thing that I struggled to ignore. There was no ignoring the damn
soap opera my life had become. It started with Amanda's call two
weeks ago, and I'd been barreling down the highway to hell ever
since.
I barely had time to catch my breath
when I found out Delilah James was carrying our child--and she
decided the best way to break the news to me was to break it to the
world. I'd lost my mind a little, punched a mirror like a petulant
boy, and let Melissa run away when she told me what was in her
heart. Truth be told, it was the same thing that was in my heart,
but how could I say those words, change my entire world, after
Delilah dropped the bomb that I was going to be a
father?
No, Delilah was more than the
elephant in the room. She was the poison in my system. Eating away
at the happiness I thought was finally mine. Chaining me to her
forever, whether I was ready for the responsibility or not. At the
end of the day, no matter what lies she told to sell magazines or
garner clicks, I would be a part of this kid's life. He or she would know me and
never want for a thing.
Melissa was watching, waiting for my response.
Expecting a joke most likely. I was no longer in a joking mood.
"What would you like to do?"
Her eyes dropped to the table, then slowly drew back
up to meet mine. "I'd like to know what comes next. With Delilah
and the...baby."
Something in my chest tightened at
the look that soured her face. She could barely say the 'b' word. I
knew it was unfair to expect her to be delighted by the situation,
to overcompensate by talking about baby showers and family trips.
Those things were enough to make my head spin. Considering our whirlwind romance, any
other woman would have abandoned ship. I wouldn't run from my
child, but it wasn't her cross to bear. Yet Melissa was still here.
Hell, she escaped the three-ring circus and came back for
more.
So I calmed the flare of indignation that whipped
inside me and answered her question.
"My people are in contact with her people-"
"Really?" Melissa cut in incredulously. "Isn't that
the standard industry brush off? You don't think you need to sit
down with Delilah, one on one?"
"What a great idea!" I exclaimed, dialing up the
sarcasm to a fever pitch. "I can't believe I didn't think of it
myself, considering I am intimately acquainted with Delilah
James."
Hurt colored her face at my dig. "I get that you're
stressed, but if you're going to be a jerk about it, you can drink
your overpriced water alone."
Apologies weren't my thing, even in
the rare instances where I was wrong. ‘I'm sorry’ seemed like a
weakness. Surrender. Call it ego. It probably didn’t help that I
was surrounded by people too afraid to call me on my BS because it
could cost them their jobs. Either way, there was something
refreshing about someone giving it to me straight.
Melissa Foster was getting a second apology in less
than twenty-four hours. If that wasn't proof that she was good for
me, I wasn't sure what was.
"I'm sorry," I sighed. "You asked me a reasonable
question and I snapped at you."
She dipped her head twice in acknowledgment, her eyes
signifying she was still waiting for something. Sorry or not, she
wasn't letting me off that easy.
"Delilah knows exactly what she's doing," I began,
loosening my tie and putting down my defenses. Slightly. "She's
insulated by photographers who are hungry for scandal and eager to
devour whatever scraps, however mundane and boring they might be.
In every picture, she's clasping her stomach or answering her cell
with an expectant look, hoping her wayward lover is finally
thinking about what happened in your office. We’re both ignoring
the elephant in the room." Her smile wavered. "Delilah."
That word snatched all the air from my sails and
breathed fire into my lungs. The good mood, the false sense of
happiness because Melissa was back and all was right in the world,
was turned to cinder and smoke.
I was no fool. Delilah was more than some looming
thing that I struggled to ignore. There was no ignoring the damn
soap opera my life had become. It started with Amanda's call two
weeks ago, and I'd been barreling down the highway to hell ever
since.
I barely had time to catch my breath
when I found out Delilah James was carrying our child--and she
decided the best way to break the news to me was to break it to the
world. I'd lost my mind a little, punched a mirror like a petulant
boy, and let Melissa run away when she told me what was in her
heart. Truth be told, it was the same thing that was in my heart,
but how could I say those words, change my entire world, after
Delilah dropped the bomb that I was going to be a
father?
No, Delilah was more than the
elephant in the room. She was the poison in my system. Eating away
at the happiness I thought was finally mine. Chaining me to her
forever, whether I was ready for the responsibility or not. At the
end of the day, no matter what lies she told to sell magazines or
garner clicks, I would be a part of this kid's life. He or she would know me and
never want for a thing.
Melissa was watching, waiting for my response.
Expecting a joke most likely. I was no longer in a joking mood.
"What would you like to do?"
Her eyes dropped to the table, then slowly drew back
up to meet mine. "I'd like to know what comes next. With Delilah
and the...baby."
Something in my chest tightened at
the look that soured her face. She could barely say the 'b' word. I
knew it was unfair to expect her to be delighted by the situation,
to overcompensate by talking about baby showers and family trips.
Those things were enough to make my head spin. Considering our whirlwind romance, any
other woman would have abandoned ship. I wouldn't run from my
child, but it wasn't her cross to bear. Yet Melissa was still here.
Hell, she escaped the three-ring circus and came back for
more.
So I calmed the flare of indignation that whipped
inside me and answered her question.
"My people are in contact with her people-"
"Really?" Melissa cut in incredulously. "Isn't that
the standard industry brush off? You don't think you need to sit
down with Delilah, one on one?"
"What a great idea!" I exclaimed, dialing up the
sarcasm to a fever pitch. "I can't believe I didn't think of it
myself, considering I am intimately acquainted with Delilah
James."
Hurt colored her face at my dig. "I get that you're
stressed, but if you're going to be a jerk about it, you can drink
your overpriced water alone."
Apologies weren't my thing, even in
the rare instances where I was wrong. ‘I'm sorry’ seemed like a
weakness. Surrender. Call it ego. It probably didn’t help that I
was surrounded by people too afraid to call me on my BS because it
could cost them their jobs. Either way, there was something
refreshing about someone giving it to me straight.
Melissa Foster was getting a second apology in less
than twenty-four hours. If that wasn't proof that she was good for
me, I wasn't sure what was.
"I'm sorry," I sighed. "You asked me a reasonable
question and I snapped at you."
She dipped her head twice in acknowledgment, her eyes
signifying she was still waiting for something. Sorry or not, she
wasn't letting me off that easy.
"Delilah knows exactly what she's doing," I began,
loosening my tie and putting down my defenses. Slightly. "She's
insulated by photographers who are hungry for scandal and eager to
devour whatever scraps, however mundane and boring they might be.
In every picture, she's clasping her stomach or answering her cell
with an expectant look, hoping her wayward lover is finally
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