A young woman struggles in the modern world when she has to finish university, handle life and take care of her six-year-old son. It certainly doesn't help her situation when she's got things barely figured out. Madilyn Adair is known for being driv...
A/N: I got admit that when I named this chapter I got all the more excited to post it. Your comments mean so much to me and I really appreciate all your thoughts. The character's personalities come more into light the deeper we go into the story.
Get your emotions ready for this chapter because 1. it has the hot Mexican, Bruce 2. and the crushing ex, Finn
| dedicated to efflorescences for being both a fabulous writer and friend |
ENJOY!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
His hand was a little rough but extremely comforting as it stroked my hair, up and down, repeatedly in a steady rhythm. The sob wrecked through me and I was left with this hollow feeling in my chest which caused me more heartache. I wanted to let out another sob, a cry of desperation but every goddamn thing seemed to be stuck in my throat.
"Come on, sweetheart," I heard a gravy smooth voice whisper to me, his lips pressing against my forehead and I ravelled in the warmth that touched me in all the coldness that I felt was shrouding me. "Let's go inside."
I didn't know where I was going or where he was leading me to but I followed the warmth of his hand that was firmly and safely placed around mine, securing me to him. He placed me down on something soft and it slowly registered in my brain that I was sitting down on his couch, in his living room and I was not here for the reasons I thought I would be here for. I was sitting on his couch and I wasn't trying to seduce him, kiss him or make a move. I didn't know why I was here. Was there a reason I came here? In that moment I forgot everything and I stood up to leave because my being here was inappropriate but when I stood up to leave, his warm hand pressed down on my arm, pushing me gently back into the comfort of the couches.
"Wait here for a second," he said softly as if he were speaking to a child before he got up.
I heard him walk away and that's when the pangs hit me, one after the other, as Finn's charming blue eyes flashed across my vision, as I remembered the feel of his broken promises whispered across my skin...as I felt the smoothness of his lips close around mine in the promise of a start, of a new beginning—followed by the realisation that Finn would always be the sun. He kept rising and he kept setting. He was never ever-present. He would never be lasting. He had no idea how much I needed him when I had our son. Riley and I had Noah but it wasn't the same. Riley needed Finn more than ever then but Finn was too much of a coward to face his actions upfront until it was too late—until I took that decision into my own hands.
I felt like I hadn't cried in ages. Even after last Christmas I had held in my tears because I would never cry in front of Riley. Mothers never did that and something about crying in front of my own son made me feel guilty. And suddenly I wasn't just crying about Finn. I was crying about Riley, about my parents, about my stolen opportunities—I was crying for everything.
