When A Playboy Loves

|| 24.

Utianle

Silence descended the car as King drove out of his estate. Emma and Esther were at the back seat, Bluetooth earpiece plugged in with their eyes glued to a cartoon that was playing on the headrest monitors.

The time on the dashboard read 11:30. I cast a glance at King who didn't seem fazed as he stared straight ahead at the empty road ahead of him. Vincent was aware I would be absent today so I wasn't bothered at all. Maybe a bit concerned for King who insisted on dropping us off before going to his office, irrespective of how late he was.

Sparing a look at my kids in the back, I took note of the clothes they were wearing, it was different from yesterday's. King claimed to have bought the extra set of clothes to avoid them repeating the same outfit this morning. I hissed, flimsy excuse. 

Emma's eyes left the screen to meet mine and his lips broadened into a smile that revealed his missing front tooth. I pinched his cheeks, smiled back at him then turned away so he could focus on his movie. I was still pissed but not at him. It was hard to get that image of my innocent Emma shouting, I like nipus out of my head.

Who in their right mind talks to a five-year-old child about nipples?

King. 

The handsome 29-year-old man in blue tuxedo reclining on the driver's seat with a hand on the steering wheel like he was a model shooting a car commercial. That didn't matter, I wouldn't have to worry about that anymore as he wouldn't be seeing my babies again. 

That thought alone sent a pang across my heart and I closed my eyes in hopes that this strange feeling of misery would pass. I tried to console myself with the fact that I was protecting both of us from future hurt but the heaviness in my chest remained. 

Our conversations from last night replayed itself all over again in my head like a DVD player without a stop or eject button. A particular topic stood out the most, his age.

He was younger than me by six years, how was that even possible? I allowed myself to take a long-lasting look at him, it would probably be the last time we would be in such close proximity again.

His side view was just as attractive as the front. My favourite part of this view was his beards, the way his sideburns connected with the hairs on his cheek, above his upper lip and jaw. I could even see a tiny mole behind his ear, blemishing his near-perfect skin.  

"Do I turn here?" His voice broke me out of my reverie.

"Yes," I murmured, going on to add, "you know the way."

My address had been punched into the GPS of his car and I could see the different paths to reach my street displayed on the screen. Asides from the fact that he had dropped me off twice, he shouldn't have turned off the automated voice giving us directions if he didn't recall the route to my house.

His gaze strayed to my face but it was back to the road almost immediately. "Yes. But this is the only way I can get you to talk to me."

Maybe I was giving him the silent treatment but what other punishment could I administer to an infuriating adult male.

"You should have thought about that before giving Emma sex education," I whispered.

"It's not sex education if I only told him about nipples. He was the one who asked."

Pressing my lips together to refrain from talking back at him, I sighed softly. My left hand wrapped around the seatbelt and my head pressed against the window. He didn't get it. Emma being Emma, this new word would follow him everywhere.