It was already our sixth night in Paris, but Dylan was busy. Really busy. He’d be gone at exactly 8 in the morning, then he’d be in the penthouse past midnight. Thankfully the jetlag didn’t have any say because of my pregnancy, but it was very disappointing to find an empty bed when u woke up. I missed him. He promised every night that he would show me around but because of his business, it was impossible. One thing that I noticed every time he came home, was that he seemed upset, to the point that he couldn’t even looked at me in the eyes whenever I talked to him. He seemed so occupied, but I had to understand that he’s busy with his business. But deep inside me, I was wondering if there was any business meeting that held past midnight? My gut was telling me something was off, but dammit.
