Paint Me Claimed - Book 2

4 | Baby blues and pinks

Zemira

There is nothing more frustrating than having hope for something. Sure, it could keep anyone afloat when everything else crumbled around. But it also tended to make a person desperate.

Three months after visiting Leo at the hospital, hope kept me going. It also made me do things I wasn't proud of.

I resorted to calling Leo daily and even began bothering his mother. When his voicemail inbox flooded, I kept recording messages in the hope that he would hear them someday. I lost count of the messages I sent or the emails where I poured my heart out.

I scanned through the tabloids to see if there was anything written about Leo. I stalked him on social media, a move I wasn't proud of. The only thing I couldn't find myself doing was barging into the Brenton mansion to meet with him.

Kiera was right about one thing. If Leo was good at hiding from the media in the past, he would employ his best resources to continue doing so.

I wasn't surprised to not find anything about him anywhere. He knew how to cover his tracks.

The only thing I knew about Leo was his arrival in Miami - the news conveyed by Sam's pilot friend, Garry. It was a chance encounter when Rachel chartered the plane and Garry recognized Leo.

Had it not been for Sam and his network of friends, I would presume Leo was still at the hospital.

At one in the afternoon, I began my routine. I dialed Leo's phone number, those ten digits burnt at the back of my mind and waited for it to connect.

The words - calling - displayed on my screen still hitched my breath. My mouth dried with every ring. For the past few months, it was a ritual I did before having lunch. Yet, every day felt like the first. The sound of the phone ringing from his end muffled all other voices and sounds around.

As always, the call went unanswered.

The voices around my office; of staff talking and the printers churning out papers filled the silence in my office. It gave a respite from the phantom call still ringing in my ears.

My reattempted call of shame was cancelled with an incoming video call.

Debby's smiling face appeared on the video call. I was a person who favored a call over a video. But Debby loved a good Facetime chat.

At my therapist's instruction, I was embracing newer things in life. That included doing things I normally avoided including smiling for the cameras, greeting my friends normally over a call then jumping right to the point.

"Zemmmmy, how are you?" Debby's shrill voice blared through the speaker. Next to her, calm Kyle sat and waved at me. "It's like you completely forgot about us."

"You know how work can be, right, Debs." I clarified the additional responsibilities I took on just to keep me occupied. "The New York location is about to be unveiled and Dad and I are-"

"-swamped," Debby added. "I know, hon, but you need to take a break or else you'll burn out. And I don't want my friend to burn out. At least not before she gets to know my baby's gender."

The last time we met, Debby was only a few weeks pregnant.

"Gosh..." I palmed my face, bending my head over the table, only to storm up with a newfound wave of happiness. "I can't believe it. It's happening so fast."

"Indeed..." Kyle took over the phone, nesting Debby's head over his shoulder. "So instead of dying in your office with exhaustion, how about you come to meet us on Saturday for the gender reveal? You'll get to meet others too."