Chapter 29
Questions that I’m not ready to answer. And maybe I never will be
To my surprise, Arthur has a kids‘ car seat in the back of his car. It still has a tag on it.
“You just bought this?” I ask, glancing up at him as Miles climbs in
Arthur simply shrugs, his gaze betraying nothing. I can’t help but wonder if he and Selina plan on having children soon. Although I tell myself that I don’t give a shit, the thought makes my chest tighten painfully. I shove the notion away, deciding that it’s not
my concem.
The car ride is mostly silent, save for the hum of the engine and classical music playing on the radio. Goddess, even the music
Arthur listens to is the same as all those years ago; he was always a big classical fan, and we went to more than one symphony
during our time together.
Miles begins to hum in the backseat. Arthur glances at him in the rearview mirror,
“You like this song?” he asks.
I want to tell him not to speak to my son, but I hold my tongue. Miles just nods.
Arthur looks at me briefly, surprise written across his face. I shrug. “Classical music is good for kids. It’s good for healthy brain
development.
If Arthur agrees, he doesn’t say anything. Although I swear I can see the muscles in his face soften ever so slightly. Finally, he says, “Well, if you like this, there are lots of good orchestras in Ordan. I could take you sometime.”
Miles‘ face lights up, and it’s all I can do not to bury my face and groan. If circumstances were different, I might consider going- I always had fun doing such things when we were together–but they’re not.
“That sounds fun!” Miles says, clapping his hands together. “I like to hear the viowins.”
“Violins, sweetie,” I correct. When I notice Arthur looking at me, I add, “Speech impediment. We’re working on it, but it still ships
out sometimes. ”
“There are plenty of good speech therapists in Ordan, too,” Arthur says.
I purse my lips, holding my tongue once more. I half expect him to offer to pay for one, to claim that the heir to the oh–so- esteemed Alpha President should speak well. But surprisingly, he doesn’t. Although he does say, “Are you just visiting
Before I can answer, Miles cuts in, “Nope! We’re gonna live here now!”
Arthur practically comes to a screeching halt at a red light. He looks over at me, his eyes as wide as saucers. I can feel my cheeks heat under his gaze, although I manage to keep my expression neutral.
“Why?” he asks, his voice lower now. He’s not speaking to Miles anymore, but rather to me. “I thought you were living with that
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Brian guy
“You can just call him Brian, for the record,” I reply bitterly. “And what does it matter if I am?”
“You’re going to move in with a whole other family along with your son? Isn’t it going to be a little… cramped?”
For a moment, I almost tell him that Miles and I won’t be living with Brian and his family, but I stop myself. It’s better that he
doesn’t know where we’ll really be living, as I don’t want him showing up at our place for whatever reason.
Besides, I just don’t want him knowing too much about my life. I worked hard to rebuild after what he did to me, and the strides
I’ve made–being able to afford a nice apartment here for me and Miles–are my own.
So instead, I just shrug and don’t say anything else.
A few minutes later, Arthur pulls up in front of Brian’s apartment. The car has barely stopped before I’m getting out and helping
Miles unbuckle from his car seat. Brian and Liam are waiting for us on the front steps, the twins excitedly waving at Miles.
As Miles runs to greet them, Arthur helps me remove the bags from the trunk. I grunt out a curt, “Thanks,” and move to take the
bags.
But his grip holds, refusing to release the bags until I meet his gaze. When I do, his face is grim.
“Why did you really come here?” he whispers. “If you’re trying to get inheritance money, then-”
I gasp, my mouth hanging open. My hand itches to slap him, but I don’t. Rather, I yank the bags away and grind out, “Fuck you, Arthur. I don’t want anything from you.”
Before he can answer, I turn on my heel and storm inside, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk.
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