Michael Taylor was sure- he was in love with Lydia Saunders, even if she was engaged to someone else. He had been for years and no one else came close. Not until that kiss happened.
Suddenly, Lyanna Saunders- the woman he vowed to hate forever- was...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Since Lydia cruelly revealed Max's true parentage, I've been walking on eggshells around him. Even though he said that he was ok with it all, part of me was worried that he was just saying what he thought I wanted to hear. Knowing him as well as I do, Max can be extremely sensitive behind the bravado and what he says is often the opposite of how he truly feels.
For days, I've been tiptoeing around him, being one of those helicopter mothers that I swore I would never be. Max was getting more and more annoyed but I couldn't help it; I wanted to make sure he really was ok and if that meant spoiling him and smothering him with too much love, then so be it. As long as we avoided the topic of Lydia, we were ok. The both of us.
"Mum, seriously, have some boundaries," Max whined when I tried to tidy up his hairstyle. Pushing my hand away, he grunts as he shovels another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "I'm fourteen, not four."
I frown. "I know that."
When I rang Clark Reiss to tell him that I needed a few 'personal' days, he readily agreed. According to him, I can take as many personal and mental health days as I want, so long as I don't quit. Reassuring him that I only needed a week, I said that I'd be on the other end of the phone if ever he or anyone from the office needed me, something that Clark dismissed instantly. Thanks to mine and Andie's efforts, we have a team that is more than capable of functioning without me for a few days. Now, with Max at his wit's end over my hovering, maybe I should go back to work before his eyes roll their way permanently into the back of his head.
"I'll go and get dressed," I announce, draining the last of my bitter tasting coffee and wincing. "Seeing as you're fourteen and not four, I trust that I can leave you here while I go into work?"
"Wait, you're going to work?" Max asks, dropping his spoon with a clatter. He looks to his left where Michael has been sitting, silently watching, and frowns. "Are you going to let her go back to work? Shouldn't you stop her or something?"
Michael holds up his hands and says, "Keep me out of this. But talking of work, I should probably head off."
Ever since Max's birthday, Michael has spent more and more time at the house. It started with him coming here straight after work, before going home and then coming back first thing in the morning, but by now, he doesn't even go home, he falls asleep in the spare room. I've told him that he can sleep with me in my bed but out of respect for Max's house rules, he tells me that he prefers the room down the hall. He has more closet space in there, apparently.
