Alpha Billionaire Series

WILLOW

I cried in the shower, a little more than I should have. By the time I had washed myself the water was cold. Fog on th glass door and the mirror hid my reflection but I didn’t need to see myself to see how hideous I probably looked. Charles would see my red puffy eyes and judge me, but I didn’t care. He'd broken my heart for good this time. I didn’ want details. When I slung the accusation at him of being out with someone, he hadn't even defended himself. It was proof enough to me that not only was he guilty of what I'd said, but he didn’t care.

I was right. He thought of this as my job. And what hurt more than anything else was that he didn’t even try to hide i this time. I'd known it was just a job from the beginning. I had signed the contract with the “no love” clause in it. I was the one who breached the contract—not him. He upheld his end.

I dressed, my hair still dripping as I buttoned my shirt. It was cold out, and my hair would probably freeze in the frigid air, but I didn’t have time to blow dry it. I had to be at Washington Dulles in 20 minutes. I'd planned only enough time for a fast shower and a faster exit. That way I'd avoid as much of the arguing and drama as possible. I had honestly hoped that Charles would just sleep through it and awaken to me being gone without a note. The brief argument and goodbye were more than he deserved as it was.

When I let myself out of the bathroom, he was seated at the foot of the bed with his hands folded in his lap. I held a towel to my hair, squeezing the tips as I shoved my hairbrush and toothbrush into my suitcase. He watched me as I shoved my socks on and slid my feet into my shoes. He was silent as I strolled to the closet and put on my jacket, bu when I picked up the suitcase by the handle and started rolling it toward the door he stood.

“Willow, you can't leave.”

“Hell, if I can’t” I turned around and glared at him. He couldn't make me stay. I'd upheld my obligations. The electior was over. “Try to stop me.”

“I mean, you can be serious. Why are you so upset over this? I had a dead battery and I had to wait on the tow truck. It was a busy night for folks or something. I-"

“Shut it, Charles.” I could have spat in his face. I didn’t know what to even believe anymore. It was like he was two different people. “I have a flight leaving in an hour and a half. I have to get to the airport” I turned and started back to the door again, but I felt his hand on mine, stopping the suitcase from rolling.

“You can't leave, Willow. We have things we need to talk about.”

“Let go of my hand.” The same electrical charge that tingled my skin every time we argued and he touched me was there, coursing through my veins, drawing me like a magnet to him. I didn’t want to look at him because if I did, I'd want to kiss him. “l am leaving."

“No, you're not. You're not going to run away from me.”

“What do you care?” I shouted, peering up at his face. His intoxicating scent drew me in faster than the arm that shot around my waist and pulled me against his body.

“I do care. I care more than you know. I cared enough to buy you that anniversary gift. Why can’t you see that?”

I struggled, trying to squeeze my way out of his embrace. I felt the tears welling up again. He didn’t care. If he cared he'd have said something months ago. He'd have told me he was sorry for leaving me, made me believe that he coul be different now.

“You don't care. You never cared.” I pushed at his chest, my hand leaving the suitcase behind in my effort to push him away. “If you cared so much, why the hell didn’t you tell me at least one time this past nine months?”

He could have asked me the same question, but he didn’t. He stared at me, intense eyes clawing through my mind like he could read my thoughts. “Say something!” I screamed, but he didn't.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

He pressed his lips to mine, an intoxicating kiss. The type of kiss that said more than any words could say, but it was too late. I would not take Nina's leftovers. And how would I ever trust that he wouldn't do that with her again? I swooned, my knees going weak, my hands gripping his shirt. My mouth locked with his in a fitful embrace. My body wanted him, but my heart and mind were done.

I forced him away, slapping him hard across the face. “Keep your filthy hands off of me, you bastard!” Sobbing, I grabbed the suitcase and charged out of the room before he could say another word. He followed me to the door pleading.

“Willow, please. Let me explain. Nothing happened with Nina; I swear it. Please.”

I refused to listen to him anymore. I didn’t even turn around. He thought this time would be like the last several. Where our arguments turned to the passion we had for each other and we f****d like nothing had ever separated us. He was wrong.

The Uber I had scheduled was on time, waiting for me when I reached the parking lot, and he had my bag loaded before Charles even got down the stairs. As we pulled out, I watched him exit the building, running after us. He had ¢ panicked look on his face, like he never believed I'd actually leave. I should have reminded him about the check, but maybe Peter would be a better person to speak with about this.

At the airport a throng of cameramen and news reporters hovered at the drop-off line as if someone had tipped them off that I was leaving town. It was likely they just happened to be covering some of the other congressmen coming to town for the hype of post-election bliss, but I weaved through them without a care. I wasn’t playing Charles's game anymore. It was time to go home and tell my parents everything, the arrangement, the way he broke my heart seven years ago, the way he broke my heart this time, and even the baby. It was just one short 30-minute commuter flight, and I would be taking a cab home for the holidays.

The reporters swarmed me, asking dozens of questions. I didn't care that I had no makeup on and that my face looked like I'd been crying. I had. It was all Charles's fault too. Let them report that shit. I hoped his face was plastered next to mine on every fucking tabloid in the city. I hoped he was hurt by it. It served him right for dragging me back into this mess. My heart never had a chance in hell.

When I crossed through security where the cameras were not allowed to go, I breathed a sigh of relief. I sank into a seat in the terminal at my gate, waiting for boarding to begin and an elderly lady sat next to me. The place was packed, standing room only, and her sweet little smile made me sadder than I'd been in weeks. She was probably somebody's great-grandmother, flying home to see them for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Probably had her own incredible story of how love carried her through her whole life. Probably had a man she was married to for 50 years who made her smile.

I burst out crying and that little old lady offered me a tissue. She smiled as I took it, saying nothing, and I bawled harder. When the plane boarded, she hobbled in line beside me, my silent companion. And when we took our seats, and she found hers three rows ahead of me, I felt a little lonely. Funny how a stranger could make me feel more welcome without any words than the man I loved made me feel for the past nine months with all the hubbub we'd been through.

Going home to Mom and Dad's was the best thing I could do right now. Mel promised to visit me, which encouraged me a lot, and I knew I'd see my little guy Mr. Boots soon too. If nothing more than to find a quiet place to sort out my feelings, I would enjoy the family home, the holidays, and a few family traditions.

I buckled my seatbelt and pulled my phone off, but instead of just turning it off, I took the battery out and decided i wouldn't be put back in. Charles had ways to find me—he’d done it before. If he wanted me, he'd have to work for it, but something told me he wouldn't put in the effort.

And that was okay with me. Or at least that's what I was telling myself.