Chapter 81
It had been weeks since Amaya's confession, yet Chase still felt the pain in her eyes as he closed the door behind him that day. He had been ignoring her since then; he didn't even bother to see Tommy. Just yet. It was shocking; he had never anticipated nor thought of the possibility, but he was lying to himself if he wouldn't admit that somehow, deep inside him, he longed for Tommy to be his.
Amaya betrayed her. She kept Tommy away from him for so long. She knew that he didn't want a child. He was an heir to his father's curse, but was he sad? was he disappointed? He didn't think so. He was just confused.
He knew the risk of telling him the truth, yet the ache inside him still bothered him so much that he wanted nothing but to turn back time. Could he even do that? That was impossible. Could he forgive Amaya?
Yes.
Was he a hypocrite?
Yes.
So he decided to talk to her today. Going to his mansion again wasn’t the most constructive thing to do, Chase thought, considering the little fixation Amaya was developing and the effort of avoiding him. But of course, he could just reason that he wanted to see their son. Was he excited?
Yes.
Was he scared?
Yes.
Was he an idiot for ignoring the mother of his son?
Yes. And again, he chastised himself.
He thought about how stupid he was. She made a huge sacrifice by raising Tommy on her own. He knew she did everything to raise him well. Then, why was he mad? Why was he scared?
The thought of Amaya hating him and ignoring him was so intense that it ached his heart.
He sighed to himself at the thought of how he could smell her skin, the undertone of her vanilla scent, and her ginger-and-jasmine shampoo on every piece of furniture in Tommy’s playroom. His office, however, screamed Amaya. Her personality jumped out of every corner of the room. Chase saw her in the cider-scented candles lined up neatly on the mantel like soldiers and in the framed pictures—her hugging Tommy with a huge smile on her face. She was in the curtains that were drawn open, inviting the sun to pour into the room, and in the small, organised stack of newspapers and books on the coffee table, as well as the ring stain of a mug beside them that told him her favourite pastime. And in the unlikely picture hanging above the TV of a boy reaching up to a heart-shaped balloon and watching it drift skyward and away from him, Tommy was his son.
Yes. He had a son.
Snap out of it.
His child's mother—she's a hot piece of ass. The world is not running out of pussies. You have a plan. Stick to it. Chase thought to himself. What was his plan anyway? Was he planning on getting her back or what?
“Sir, Tommy bought that picture when we went to the park,” the nanny told him. “It doesn’t go with anything around the house, but neither of us has the guts to take it down. Amaya loves it, so she displayed it here in your office. She had been using this room when she—um, work.”
Chase stopped by the picture, staring at it. He grimaced, knowing how it felt to keep everything while you waited for your loved one to miraculously reappear. Hatred was pathetic. That’s why he didn’t let himself dwell on it. He loved her. Now he knew he was in love with her. He loved her and his son.
"Tommy is brave enough to do anything, but he is a good boy," the nanny added with a lovely smile. “He is smart, kind, amazing, and sweet. His mother raised him well.”
Chase considered that for a moment. “Perhaps guts was not the right word. Just like Amaya, Tommy is very good at remembering. And loving.”
"I know."
The nanny was an impressive woman, he thought. She knew what to say, thought she was tiny, and was strong, silent, and polite—the no-bullshit type. She knew his son better than he did, so he agreed that keeping their marriage arrangement a secret was in everyone’s best interest. The nanny was silent and didn't say anything. Lying to her wasn’t ideal, but they both knew she knew everything.
“Where is Amaya?”
“She went to the public library, sir.”
“Did her father contact her again?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you hear? ”
“Um—I don't think it's my business to—”
“I'm your boss, remember that. And that man is using her. You should have known that by now?”
“Ah,” she said, nodding her head. "Agree, sir, I heard them arguing on the phone recently. I think he is asking for her money again, and Amaya couldn't give him more.”
“The bastard!”
“I don't know if—this is, I mean, she's having a hard time adjusting, sir. Her father is giving her a hard time.”
“I know," he sighed, “but don't worry, just report to me whatever you know. I won't let that bastard use her again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chase had Danny find the bastard, and he asked Eva to keep an eye over Amaya’s phone calls, meetings, and anything that made her busy because he wanted Eva to know everything about Amaya’s plan, and luckily she volunteered herself. Since Amaya’s father was incredibly clinging to his daughter, and for someone with that level of madness and sickness, Chase wondered if he was worthy of his time. And he thought Amaya had pride. Besides, getting help from him again was going to mess with her sense of integrity. She was fiercely independent, and Chase didn’t want this gesture to have the aftertaste of quick fucks and sardonic office whips. Besides, it wasn’t solely about Amaya. He wasn’t a heartless prick. He wanted to spare Amaya the pain and disappointment of having a bad father.
Amaya didn’t ask him many things before in Greece that were related to his parents or anything that made him mad. She didn’t ask him, for instance, his motivations for helping her father in the first place. And so he spared her the real story of him helping the bastard. Just like how he spared her his own real story. Why he hated his own father, why he married her, and the real reason why he tricked her into marrying him. Maybe because a day after their wedding, his tongue was already rimming her crack while his fingers plunged into her pink, soaking wet pussy?
No…he was not that asshole.
Though he didn’t normally eat ass, hers was too sweet to pass. At any rate, Chase did not consider it a compliment worth mentioning to her father.
As far as Amaya was concerned, his help in regards to her father’s sickness was an experiment he’d been offered by the insurance company. It wasn’t farfetched, and this way she wouldn’t have to worry about paying him back or think he was expecting something in return.
This was not about getting his cock sucked either, although, truth be told, based on the way she’d looked at him the evening he hung out with some woman last week, it hardly seemed she’d mind paying in that dubious currency. He knew she was jealous.
After he and the nanny talked about Tommy’s new piano lesson, he played with him for an hour before saying goodbye, but was surprised when Amaya came back from the library with swollen, exhausted eyes.
“What happened?” he couldn't help but ask.
She stared at him and shook her head. “Nothing.”
Chase signed, “Can we talk?”
“About what? I thought you didn't want to talk to me.”
“Amaya, you can't expect me to accept what you told me immediately.”
“So? Why now?”
“Amaya—”
"Please, Chase, I'm not in the mood to fight or to argue. I'm not—”
“I'm not here to argue; I want us to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
"Tommy," he said. “I'm stupid. I'm a fool. Now I realise how difficult this situation is for you. You sacrificed a lot to raise him. I know why you did what you did.”
“Really?” she raised her brow, too tired to even argue with him. She had issues with her father, and right now, all she ever wanted was to cry herself out.
“I was selfish, okay? I was scared. And I'm sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I remember the last time we talked, you hated me. You—”
“I was wrong, okay?”
“Are you playing games? Are you playing with my emotions now, Chase?”
“No.”
“What made you change your mind?” Amaya asked, and she thought she could take the risk and gumble her heart again. Who cares? She loves him. She needs him too.
Her fingertips trailed down his cheek and lingered on his jaw before dropping lower, where she placed her palm flat against his chest, directly over his heart. Claiming ownership. It was hers; it had always been hers; he just never admitted it.
“Tommy. He changed my mind. I tried to forget. I tried to hate you, but I realised I couldn't. I need you. I want you. I can't forget you.”
She paused and massaged his chest gently, as if soothing his soul. “I never forgot you.”
“Same here.”
He settled his mouth over hers, needing this kiss and aching for it. There's nothing like the ache of wanting her again and again when he's been blinded by lust and passion.
Uh-uh, this ache settled right over his heart, exactly where her hand was—the kind of ache that scared the hell out of him. He never wanted to lose her. Amaya and Tommy. He never wanted to lose them.
Her lips parted, so soft, so moist, and he groaned as his tongue touched hers, going a little crazy as he backed her up against the nearest tree, their bodies melding perfectly, his hands sliding under her top, cupping her breasts. “I'm sorry, Amaya. Let's talk. Please.”
“Chase…”