His Personal Assistant

"We'll make it professional"

I haven't heard from Israel nor Everly in three days. Three long horrible days in which consisted of Mr. Hamilton mostly.

She called me. Everly I mean. She said she was okay and that she was staying with that stupid ass kid. When I mentioned her coming back home she declined it rudely and hung up.

I haven't been home alone for just about 16 years. When I was pregnant with Everly and Lorence didn't want anything to do with me nor Ev. It took him 4 months of me being pregnant to actually come around and accept his responsibilities.

Those were the toughest four months of my life. The first two months I had horrible morning sickness. The next two I was emotionally unstable and even suicidal. After that Lorence saved me. I mean he also almost ruined me but I like to think about the saving part.

Lorence wasn't the worst of all people. But he wasn't the best either. He caused me a lot of hardship. We were complete opposites. We disagreed on pretty much everything.

There was never a time where I said let's do this Lorence and he'd say of course Annika. That situation would've been a fairy tail to me.
How we got married? We were drunk and in Vegas. As crazy as that sounds it's exactly what happened.
It went something like:

"I love you so much Annika."
"What?!"
"I said I—."
"No. I heard you idiot. I just don't believe it."
"Well believe it baby. I love you so much I would actually marry you right now."
"Are you proposing to me?"
"Errr.... I don't know."
"Oh my God. Than let's get married already! Why are you sitting here you idiot?!"
*
That's pretty much all I remember and now that I think of it. I might have never gotten married to the man of my dreams if it weren't for a bottle vodka.
Crazy yes. But crazy enough to get me married.

"Ding dong!"

I jump up and rush over to the front door. My baby has co— shit!

"Why?" I say not attempting to waste my breath on this fool.

"I brought dinner." He raises two large brown bags.

"At nine - o - clock pm?" I raise a brow.

"Yeah." He says as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Ah no. My house is a mess and I don't like receiving guest at this—."

"Just let me in." He pushes past me.

Rude ass guy. I glare at him as he enters my home.

"Cute home." He enters looking like a giant in the middle of my living room.

"No need for compliments." I roll my eyes shutting the front door.

"She still hasn't come home?" He places the bags on my counter. He takes out circular containers of food.

"No."

I walk over to him and help him.

"Did you...make this?" I ask looking at the container full of chicken Parmesan. Another with brown rice the next one stewed black kidney beans. In the bag he emptied came out baked chicken, corn bread, red wine, and some weird looking baked potato thing.

"What's that." I point at the container.

"Au gratin potatoes." He explains.
Like hell I know what that means.

"Why so much food?" I ask walking around the counter into the kitchen to grab plates and utensils.

"I figured you wouldn't want to cook considering the situation you're in. So now you have food to stock on." He explains whilst stacking four of the containers on top of each other and opens my fridge finding a spot for them.