Page 48 of Maid for My Billionaire Boss
I have the best news! I got it figured out, and we can send him to St. Mary’s!
Babe, the economy is shutting down and people aren’t booking weddings or gatherings. Everything is closing. The state won’t let us open.
Lea, it’s been months since I’ve been able to host any events. I think we need to pull Josiah from school.
No, I can’t ask for any more loans. The businesses can’t handle it.
No, you don’t need to get another job. Just focus on our family and help with the studio when you can. I don’t want you to worry.
It’s okay, he can stay at school.
It was gutting to relive all the clues. I couldn’t deny they’d been there, and I felt like a monster. Damion had always made it clear he didn’t want me to worry. I knew money was tight, but I had no idea he was borrowing money aside from the initial investment. Wishing desperately he had confided in me so we could have faced it together, I buried my face in my hands and released more tears. The sobs were rooted so deep they made my stomach wrench, and I had to press my palm firmly on my gut in support.
Flashing my eyes heavenward, I cried,“I could have helped. I would have added more classes and booked more events. I could have taken a side job! Anything would have been better than to find out now you had been carrying this burden by yourself. This wasn’t just your life to fix.”
The more the tears flowed, the more my anguish proliferated, setting even more tears to bloom in my suffering eyes. I sobbed for what felt like hours until I finally felt sorrow’s hold on me weaken, and I let my final cry escape from my lips and whispered,“At least you could have fixed the stupid door.”
Twenty-Five
Trey
Ithadbeenaweek since I had learned how I had broken Atalie. Lucky for me, Robert had gotten back from his honeymoon and completed his on-boarding because I didn’t have the heart to deal with business right now. My business had always been everything, but all I wanted to do was fix Atalie. I also wasn’t stupid. I understood I couldn’tfixher, but I was going to do what I could to make it better. I already extended an offer to the people who bought her house for double its value. They immediately accepted. As for the art studio, that was a little harder.
Okay, more than a little.
Impossible.
The properties had been leveled, and a hotel had been built in their place. I was trying to be creative and think outside the box, but I still had no clue how I was going to fix that. I could buy another building and put another art studio in it, but it wasn’t about having an art studio as much as it was about having a piece of Damion. Then like a gift that floated down from heaven, a seed of an idea implanted into my mind, reminding me of something Damion had given me.
It had to work.
It was the only piece of Damion I had left.
I headed to the attic but paused at the top of the steps because I got that feeling you get when you enter a graveyard. Like you are about to traipse on sacred ground, and your body senses a need to be quiet and respectful. I took another step and let my hands fall on a rusty compass. Memories of Damion and me hiding under the stairs—pretending to be lost on a voyage with only my trusted compass to guide us—flooded my mind. A child’s imagination—so pure and innocent—was always a magical thing. Doubting this hunk of junk even worked anymore because I had dropped it at least a hundred times, ran it over with my bike, and took it swimming in the bathtub, I flipped it over and watched the needle bounce until it rested on true north. Just for fun, I let my eyes follow its direction, leading me tohim.
My purpose for coming here tonight.
The compass worked perfectly.
After my dad had disappeared, I stopped going to school. I would get up in the morning and get dressed and leave, hiding behind the bushes until after the bus had left the bus stop. Then I would walk down to the port and watch the waves while holding my breath, praying one of them would bring my dad home. It felt like that scene inBraveheartwhere that woman was tied to a post, waiting for a rescue, only to understand too late and there was no one coming, and she had to save herself. I had to save myself from my heartache. I didn’t trust I could do it, and I vowed to never love someone enough for them to hurt me this badly. If I was going to be honest, fear of heartbreak was the main reason I had stayed with Tonya as long as I had. I loved herenough,but not enough she could break me.
When the school finally got a hold of my mom to let her know I hadn’t been coming to school, instead of getting mad when I confessed what I had been up to, she started to join me. We spent a month at the port together—doing nothing more than healing—before she insisted it was time to go back to school. I was terrified to leave the port, thinking I would miss his return, but she insisted it was time.
The night before my return to school, Damion manifested on my doorstep, holding a canvas he had wrapped in his pillowcase as a makeshift backpack so he could carry it on his bike. He never said a word when he untied the twine, revealing the oil painting he had made for me.
He had an otherworldly talent that captured my heartache, transforming into an image of beautiful strength. An image of an abstract man kneeling with an extending hand, open in offering. Titled: Forever Bonded and signed with his name. It was an enormous gift to know he cared and took the time to try to understand what I was feeling. Still, I had this beautiful work of art that reminded me, even though my dad had passed, he would find a way to hold my hand and guide me.
Damion’s kind heart and talent were like no other.
A better man than me in every way.
I understood so profoundly why Atalie suffered. I removed the painting from the wall, setting it on the table to prepare it to be moved. It wasn’t an art studio, but I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that this was better.
A piece of Damion holding her hand.
Twenty-Six
Atalie
