Chapter2
1192 Words
Four years later.
Britney
I'm very bad with dates but I know what today's date is. A reminder that I'm officially a divorcee.
September 16th.
Four years ago, I made the hardest decision of my life, contemplating whether I should keep the pregnancy or not.
"Momma!"
My phone was ringing insistently on my bedside table. Without thinking, I fumbled for it, peering blearily at the screen. The moment the footsteps of my four-year-old daughter got louder, I lowered my phone.
"Can I get some more ice cream?" Kyra asked. "Or are you keeping it?"
I guess that question was going to stop torturing me now. A small smile formed on my face as I held my daughter.
"Yes, baby," I answered. "You are going to get all the ice cream you want but just not now."
"Why not?" She asked.
I exhaled audibly, thinking of the best way to tell her it was still very early for that. I checked my watch and then looked back at her pretty face.
"It's still early, baby but I'll tell aunty Mila to get you some chocolates before you head to Grandpa's for the weekend, okay?"
Her face lit up with a small smile hearing that. "Can't wait to see Grandpa!'
"I bet."
"You know who else I can't wait to see?" She asked and my heart skipped. I didn't give myself the chance to ponder over it more. I brushed the anxiety swirling in my gut aside and held her cheeks.
Every day since I walked away from that house, I have always prayed that Kyra doesn't grow up asking questions that would hurt her but here she is—
"Momma!" She hollered. "You are not even listening."
"I'm so sorry baby," I told her. "It's just that Mommy is getting late for work."
"But you have people who work for you, Momma. No one is going to punish you for going late."
"Yes baby, that's right but that doesn't mean I have to go late okay? I have to show good examples to others."
"Including me?" She asked, giggling.
Kids her age have fantastic imaginations, so it wasn't surprising. Kyra is bright and catches on to things fast. Whenever I teach her something, her brain absorbs it quickly, and soon enough, she mimics and asks me questions.
"Momma you said you drink enough water so I can learn from you. Isn't that the same—"
"Yes baby," I laughed. "I am being a good example to you too."
"Got that right, Momma."
An overpowering giddiness takes hold of me whenever she calls me Momma. I have no idea when I'd get used to it but it’s the best thing that’s happened to me after my life took another turn.
Gently pushing her brown hair back, I covered her with the duvet and slowly inched to the edge of the mattress. "I'll see you after school okay? Just before you go to Grandpa's."
"Okay, Momma."
"I love you so much."
"I love you too Momma," she smiled back. "So much too."
On my way to the door, I turned back to look at her and she was still on her bed with a smile as she waved at me.
I love Kyra so much and I'm glad Mila convinced me that I could do this— keep her and raise her with so much love despite an absent Father who would never know about her.
She has kept to her promise of loving Kyra and never bringing up Adrian no matter how many questions she asks.
I got to the office at exactly 7:10 am, twenty minutes from being late and as I stepped into my office, I felt sudden satisfaction.
I am living the life I have always wanted; All thanks to my father.
I have always wanted a life away from his name; one where I can say I made it without my father's influence.
I went back to school— took several courses on cybersecurity and criminology and after my major certifications, I decided to apply for jobs here in California.
I landed one and although it's my second year here, I have been promoted to being the second-in-charge after Mr. Cowell. So yes, my daughter is right about having people who work for me.
A floor-to-ceiling glass on the sixteenth floor of a midtown skyscraper definitely has a way of making you feel like you’ve made it and just maybe I have.
I tossed my bag to the chair and took off my grey blazer. I sat right on the swivel chair about to get into the day's business when the door to my office swung open after a knock I barely heard.
"Miss Botley," My Personal Assistant, a nerd-looking slender IT specialist called from the door. "I knocked but—"
"It's okay, Harry. Good morning."
"Forgive my manners her Majesty." He paused. "You haven't checked your emails?"
"No, I haven't. What's wrong?"
"If you have— you'd know you have a meeting to catch up with in thirty damn minutes."
My jaw dropped. "A meeting!?"
"Yes, ma'am. The Boss isn't available and of course, he knows you are the best fit so he needs you to fill in for him."
"Oh s**t," I blurted immediately losing control. I hate this— to be caught unaware. I have tried every damn thing I know to not be caught off guard but my Boss, Simon Cowell doesn't seem to follow.
"Just fill me in," I blurted. "Like right now."
"Okay, so it's a partnership pitch and Mr. Cowell wants you to oversee how it goes with the board of directors. You know how those old men can be."
"Okay. So what are we looking at?"
"A collaboration with a big firm in New York, three branches across the United States alongside the benefits and of course, the impediments."
"Okay, uh, I think I'm ready."
"The driver is outside. He'll take you there, bring you back, and make sure no man talks to you."
I rolled my eyes immediately and chuckled. Harry has got quite a sense of humor but I love how we can get along like friends and then back to business.
"I'll just take this," I blurted and grabbed the file from his hand. “I'd probably need to glance through it during the drive just so I don't fall short of words during the meeting.”
"Call me if you need anything!" Harry hollered but I already got into the car before I thought of what I may need his help with.
"Are you ready?" The driver asked after we exchanged pleasantries.
I wore a big smile at Tom, Mr. Cowell's personal chauffeur. "What's your definition of ready, Big Tom?"
"Not slow, not hesitating," he answered. "In other terms, prepared for immediate action."
A ball formed in my throat when I thought about it in a general way. I have almost never been ready. I wasn't ready to be divorced; to move on; to be a single mother and uh—
"Miss?"
"Uh" I blurted out, immediately evading the thoughts of my Ex-husband.
Am I ready?
- Writer
