Divorcing The Billionaire On Valentine's Day

23. Grayson

GRAYSON

The sun streamed through the windows mercilessly. Strange I woke up before my alarm went off. I yawned and glanced at the digital clock and it all made sense.

The alarm went off right on time. I yanked the sheets from my body, every bone in my body ached as if reminding me it was a Saturday. 10am, the only right time to be up on a Saturday. Not too late but indulgent still. I needed a coffee.

I pulled on some sweats and a black shirt, shoved my legs in some flip flops and shut the door behind me minutes later. The house was surprisingly quiet. Johnny usually used Saturdays to watch some cartoons or whatever kids were into lately.

Not even the sound of the tv. Huh, that’s weird. I entered the living room and it all made sense. Johnny was curled up on the couch, fast asleep. Some might consider that a good thing and if I was the one still watching him, I would have. But I wasn’t, so it wasn’t. He just might either slept late the night before or he was up watching cartoons most of the night, none of which I would tolerate.

I searched the space for any signs of Camila. The lounging area just beside the living room, the dining area, the front porch, no where. If she actually left Johnny to sleep and left the house without letting me know, she might as well meet Lila for her next catch because she would have to head back to where she ran of to.

I checked my last guess and was a little sad to see her in the kitchen. There goes my perfect excuse for firing her. She shuffled around the kitchen like she’d lived in it for years and knew her way without actively looking. Her head bobbed up and down to the song she hummed as she did the dishes, almost like she actually enjoyed it, but I knew better. She was here for one thing and one thing only. My family’s money and maybe a little of mine too.

I cleared my throat and let myself fully into my kitchen. She jerked backwards, almost tossing the plate she held but most definitely falling on her ass. I caught her last minute, saving her from a whirlwind of pain and a messy clean up if she bled onto the floor.

“You scared me.” She gasped, swiping her palms on the apron she had on.

I c****d a brow at her. I’m in my house? I wanted to say, but instead I hummed. “What are you doing?” I asked instead and eyed the plates. I had a dishwasher.

She shrugged, “I just felt like doing something nice.”

‘Nice’ would have been not making a mess of my kitchen. Water was spilled all over the sink and the counter. The counter was a safe three feet from the kitchen sink. The dishes were everywhere, I couldn’t even tell which was cleaned and which wasn’t. ‘Something nice’ would have been tossing them in the dishwasher right beside the sink.

“Why?” I couldn’t take my eyes from the mess. My skin prickled anytime I found other nice things she was up to. Why was there a white substance on one of the cabinets?

“Well,” she smiled sheepishly. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at her theatrics, “I felt like surprising you with breakfast in bed to cheer you up. Lila said blueberry pancakes are your favorites.” She smiled wide like any of what she said was supposed to make sense. Well at least that explained the white substance. Flour. I would rather not know how it got on one of the top cabinets. She was like what? 5’4?

“Why?” I asked again. I knew the answer, but I always liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yeah, even I, didn’t believe that. I just wanted her to hear how stupid it sounded saying it out loud.

“Because…” she paused when she finally looked at my face. I found zero humour in what was coming out of her mouth. Zilch. None. “Well because,” she seemed to finally get the message. The smile on her face was gone as she said with a confused look on her face, “Well because, I thought after last time, you didn’t dislike me anymore.”

I couldn’t help the scoff I let out. Dislike was putting it lightly. I couldn’t even stand her, especially when she was trying so hard to force herself into my life and taking a whole new persona to do so as well. I still couldn’t believe I had been stupid enough to entertain her even once.

I leaned against one of the bottom cabinets and made sure I met her gaze as I spoke so there was no miscommunication, “Camila what happened was… fun,” I tested the word on my tongue. It left a bitter taste. “But it was a mistake, one that never should have happened and would never happen again.”

She took steps back till she came in contact with the counter. Her face the picture of distraught. I might not like her, heck, I might hate her guts, but I didn’t like seeing tears and she suddenly had a lot of them.

“For f**k’s sake stop crying.” I groaned, looking away. I should have kept my mouth shut, it only made things worse. I fisted my hands in my pockets. She was a freaking stream in less than a minute and I couldn’t even tell if they were fake or real. Her shoulders raked with each sob.

“You don’t mean that.” She swept her forearms across her eyes, wiping away the endless tears source.

“I do mean it.” I was quick to clarify because I was not going to mince words and let her have misplaced hope. “Can you stop crying?!” I snapped when she only increased the intensity the more I spoke.

That seemed to have shocked her out of whatever had been blocking her ears before. She nodded. “Understood.” Was all she said before she turned back to the dishes.

I knew I was pushing it, like I was ripping the band aid off only to place it back on that spot and rip it off again, but letting things be lost in transmission was not a risk I was willing to take.

“There would be no need for that anymore. I would talk to Lila and she would get you some other job. I think I can handle things with Johnny from here on out.” I tried to get a peek at her face. The eyes always told stories, the mouth would never dream of telling. She didn’t turn back, just kept washing the dishes. Okay that was enough of that.

I moved to help her away from the dishes since she was still in shock. “I can still take care of Johnny, I don’t mind. No need to make the boy suffer for your mistake.” I didn’t miss the bite behind her words when she stressed the ‘mistake’. It didn’t matter. There was no way I could trust her with Johnny. Some women did really crazy s**t when they were mad, who knew what level of crazy she could be. Yeah, I would rather not find out.

“There would be no need. I’d get him another nanny.” She stiffened, stuff as a rod the moment my palm made contact with her shoulder.

She shrugged it off like it was dirt, disgust was written all over her face, a quiet cloud of anger hovered over her as she let the dish go, “Okay then. Have a great day.” She plastered a smile on her face and walked out.

I followed her because who in their right minds would leave their kid with a woman who looked so mad, murder wouldn’t be the craziest thought on her mind.

She didn’t even spare her Johnny a glance as she stormed off and slapped the front door behind her. Well that went well.

I locked the door and headed back to my room, two more hours of sleep shouldn’t hurt. I pulled out my phone on my way just to make sure Alicia hadn’t sent one of her emergency or urgent attention emails.

Thankfully there was nothing of the sort as I scrolled through, but what I did see made me pause at my bedroom door to be sure I wasn’t seeing things.

Two timing wife on a date with mystery man revealed to be Aaron. Has shame become extinct? Or is promiscuity and a******y the new trend?

New catch or New meal ticket for Mr Archer’s mystery wife. I wonder why he kept her a secret.

I shut the door behind me. I didn’t know whether to be mad or worried. The headline wasn’t the worst of it. The blogger had gone on to include details of how Adeline was a hungry slut who would do anything for her next meal. The picture of Aaron and Adeline with about seven trays of junk mostly on Adeline’s side of the table didn’t make it any better.

Why is she so stubborn?!