Mrs Reluctant Billionaire || Eight

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My car grinds to a halt in front of the girls school. Their arms wrap around me from behind, hair tickling my skin as they smother me with kisses I return with equal fervency. I release them so they can get their bags, heart thudding and chest tightening at the realisation I will not be seeing them until the weekend.

Craning my neck to give them final kisses to their cheeks, I murmur, “Love you two.”

The backdoor opens, my insides clench painfully, the weekend went so fast. “Love you too, Daddy.”

They don’t get out of the car, I glance at them through the rearview mirror. Bren nudges Wyn with her elbow, a frown meets my lips and my worry evolves into something bigger. They are hiding something.

“Daddy?” Bren speaks up when Wyn doesn’t, I unfasten my seatbelt and join them at the backseat. Wyn closes the door, Bren climbs to my laps while fiddling with my tie. I grab her hand to stay her movement, my lips move into a smile at how ridiculously small her palm looks against mine. “Are you coming?”

Their anxious gazes make me gulp, I link my other hand with Wyn's. Filtering the activities of the short weekend, I try to remember what I might have missed but my brain draws a blank. “Coming for what?”

“The PTA,” Wyn answers. Her hair sweeps into her face at the sudden jerk of her head, she swipes it with a glare that forces a nervous chuckle out of me. Her eyes narrow to harsh slits. “You promised.”

“Of course I’m coming,” I say in a voice that hides the fact I didn’t remember that promise until now. Yesterday was our only free time together and most of it was spent recounting their skating experience or repeating questions from their maternal grandparents, questions too complicated to be answered honestly. Their faces light up with smiles that can illuminate a room, I ruffle their hair. “What time is it?”

“Now.”

My heart crashes to a stop, then resumes beating erratically. Taking out my phone to check my calendar, I frown at the meetings lined up for me this morning, the first one is by nine. Ed has not replied my emails to resume work, I even promised him a raise. I understand his silence since I was a jackass but he is the best assistant I have got since Danielle’s dismissal. As awful as I might be, I am logical enough to admit I need him back at work to deal with my hectic schedules so I can spend more time with my little girls.

One glance at their beautiful faces, the anxiety spread on them and I swallow the excuse making its way to my lips. I promised. I have never been to any of the PTA meetings because Elna never thinks to inform me, which is kind of okay since I have busy mornings but that has to change. I send a text to Dina, shove the phone into a compartment of the car. If I’ll attend the meeting, I’ll do it without any distractions.

“Okay,” I mutter and it earns me kisses on my cheeks.

They grab my hands once we exit the car as if afraid I’ll leave, I delay for a nanosecond at the sight of the huge brown doors wide open to receive us. Kids race each other to the entrance, the twins giggle when one of them almost trips. A tug on my sleeve reminds me we are still outside, I offer them a reassuring smile and we make our way up the stairs and into a long corridor filled with parents and their wards.

Shame tinged with guilt slices through me at the sight of couples having hushed conversations with their kids. I squeeze their hands at the thought of them never experiencing this intimacy, earning a suspicious look from them. I have never been inside their school, never had to participate in the registration at the start of each session. Elna handles it all without complaints, gives me a summary I never question. I try to focus on Joshua’s words; I can shape the future. It is not enough for us to spend weekends together, I need to do more as their father. I have to be more present in their academics and other areas of their lives.

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