Page 8 of Billionaire Enemy's Baby
All of the sadness and regret melt away as soon as my four-year-old daughter, Mya, comes skipping into the room. Sure, everything has changed and I lost the dreams I thought I would live out, but would I change anything in the world?
No, because the decisions I made when I was eighteen have led me to have the best thing in the world.
A daughter, who I love more than anything else in the world, the child who saved me and made me who I am today. I couldn’t escape Beaufort because of the pregnancy, I couldn’t go and live on my own because I couldn’t financially support myself and Mya like that, but now I’m kind of glad. This was a great place for me to grow up, and it’s a great place for Mya to grow up as well. She loves it, especially living in the guest house my parents let me live in. Being so close to her grandparents means she has her family surrounding her.
Well, my side of the family anyway. It’s all she knows and all she needs.
“Come on then, Mya, you show me what you have been doing.”
I toss my cell phone on the couch and follow my daughter. She leads me to a stack of papers where I can see that she has been practicing writing her name in preparation for kindergarten. Bless her, she’s doing really well. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
“Oh wow, baby girl, that is amazing,” I coo. “Well done.”
She offers me a one shouldered shrug. “Well, I am a big girl now, going to school, so I want to be able to write my name properly like all the other kids.”
God, it’s the end of an era, isn’t it? It’s the end of just me and Mya in our own little bubble. Once she starts school everything will change for me. It’s time for me to start looking for a job and to get a grasp of my own life again.
It’s exciting, but scary as well. All I have known since high school is being a full-time mom. Beingmeagain is going to be hard, but it might be fun as well. I have sent off a ton of applications for all kinds of jobs, but nothing has come back from it yet. I am hopeful though, because I have to be.
I pull Mya close to me and we hug. I hold on to her for as long as I can, letting my love shine through to her. I need her to know how much I love her.
She is my world.
Nothing else matters but her.
She really does make everything perfect for me.
* * *
“So, what do you think?” I ask Mom as I twist side to side to show her my blouse and pencil skirt combo. “I’ve never had to dress for a job interview before, do you think this is alright? I don’t have anything better on such short notice.”
“You look fine,” Mom says as she clucks her tongue and hands me a mug of tea. “You’re going to do great. Where did you say this job interview was again?”
“Err, I can’t really remember. I’ve applied for so many things and I just got a little bit excited when I saw the interview offer. It’s for a receptionist, which I think I can do.”
“You candefinitelydo that. You are a smart woman. You can do anything.”
I appreciate the pep talk, but I appreciate her more for looking after Mya whenever I need her to. I don’t know what I would do without them, honestly.
Her and my dad. They’ve saved me one too many times, and made sure that I don’t lose my mind over everything because it’s so hard to be alone, it really is. But now more than ever it’s great because it means I can take this last-minute job interview, and hopefully even go on to get the job.
Then me and Mya can have the best life ever, right? At least, that’s the dream.
I take a swig of tea as I glance at my watch. “Oh my God, I’m going to be late!”
I find Mya with my dad and give her a quick kiss before waving goodbye to my parents. As soon as I’m out the door, feeling far more flustered than I want to be for this, I check the details of where I need to be. It’s an address on the outskirts of town, not somewhere I go often, so I’m still not too sure what to expect. It’ll be fine though. As long as I park my car not too close to the building so they don’t judge me on the old banger I have to journey around in.
I would like to think that people aren’t like that these days, that everyone is accepting of what other people have to go through, but who the hell knows. If first impressions really count, then the last thing I want to do is make a bad one.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the right address, because nothing is too far away in Beaufort. It’s one of the positives of living in a small town. But just because I’m going to be on time for the job interview, doesn’t make me feel good about it.
“Holy shit.” My heart sinks. Not only is this an edgy, cool motorcycle store where people come to get custom paint jobs on their vehicles, which iswayout of my league, but it’s also owned by someone I don’t really want to cross paths with if I can help it.
Wyatt Macauley.
Brotherof Josh Macauley.ThatJosh.
Notsomeone I can face right now.
