“Presley,” he chastises. “Please let me sort that out.”

I turn over onto my back. This Eloise thing is the only thing stopping us from being together. From being a family. Why can’t he just admit why he was…still is (in my eyes) marrying her?

“I need time to take all of this in,” I confess.

“Take what in?”

“You, not answering my questions about Eloise. Everything about the past. I’m just…overwhelmed.”

No more words are said tonight. And maybe it’s for the best. He moves his body to a sitting position, then leans in to kiss my cheek. “So tomorrow, you’re bringing Masen into the office?”

I simply nod, followed by the only smile I can muster. A fake one.

Entering the office building feels like visiting your home after a long vacation. I had missed everything about it, from the hustle and bustle of the corporate world, to the office attire, and even the politics. Vicky greets me downstairs in the lobby, running towards me in new Louis Vuitton pumps. Bitch! Where did she get those?!

“Ahem, what’s going on south of your kitty?”

She gladly lifts her feet, proudly showing off her new attire. “Oh, you mean these? Well, Patrick bought them for me. Kind of like an ‘I want you back’ present.”

I shake my head at her willingness to accept extravagant gifts from a dickhead who can’t keep his pants shut. I drop the subject, not wanting to get into an argument.

“So,” she says, taking the stroller off me and pushing it towards the elevator. “What’s happening tonight? Are you still meeting Jason for dinner?”

The whole week I went back and forth about cancelling my dinner with Jason. Things were going so good between Haden and me that I didn’t want to create any unnecessary drama. But last night, after his confession, I thought long and hard about what I wanted. Having dinner with Jason was just that—dinner. I’m not planning on having sex with him, but although we ended on friendly terms, there is a sense of closure that I need from him in order to be able to move forward.

“Right now, I’m still deciding. But if I do, you’re still okay to babysit?”

“Of course! Can’t wait to hang out with my gorgeous soon-to-be godson,” she coos at Masen.

“And about that. Don’t mention that to Haden yet. I don’t think he is religious, at all.”

Vicky slides her finger along her mouth, then flicks it to the side. “My lips are sealed.”

Bringing Masen to the office is extremely overwhelming. Every woman and her overactive ovaries are fussing over him, all fighting to have a cuddle so they can smell his skin. It was only announced last week that Dee was expecting a baby with Sugar Daddy. Four months along, according to Mr. National Inquirer himself, Clive. She seems happy, asking me questions about pregnancy and birth. I’m not here to judge her, despite her sugar daddy being old enough to be her grandfather.

Clive is doing his thing, making weird sounds at Masen and trying to make him smile.

“Jesus, Pres, he looks exactly like the Jerk.”

“I would question her if he didn’t.” Haden is standing behind an embarrassed Clive.

Haden moves into the circle and my eyes move up his body and land on his torso. He’s wearing a navy, fitted business shirt with a thin black tie and he has rolled the sleeves up like he always does. Fucking kill me now…. Kitty just wants to dry hump his arms. His face has broken out into his trademark smile, and his glasses…argh! Why the hell does he look so irresistible today?!

Because you made a promise to not touch him while he was still engaged to Eloise.

“Motherhood agrees with you, Pres.” Clive raises his eyebrows and cups his chest, motioning to my huge breasts. “So, Masen drinks breast milk only?”

I nod. “Haven’t had the need to start the formula yet.”

“Have you tasted it?” Clive attempts to whisper.

“Clive!” Vicky scolds, followed with, “Yeah, have you?”

I shake my head at the both of them, trying to hold in my laughter. “No. But I heard it’s supposed to taste like—”

“Cantaloupe juice,” Haden interjects. “It was on an episode of Friends.”

Mortified, because he must have tasted it the other night, I lower my head so as not to reveal my flushed face. Vicky and Clive snicker as Haden continues to stand there with a wide smirk on his face, rubbing his chin with his stare fixated on me.

“Well, there you go,” I say. “Cantaloupe juice. Not that I know what that tastes like, but I imagine it’s sweet. Anyways, look at the time!”

Haden kisses Masen before telling me he has a meeting that is expected to turn into a dinner since it’s one of our stakeholders from London. I say goodbye to him before he disappears.

“Okay, so let me know about tonight?” Vicky reminds me.

“Thanks Vicky, I will. I probably won’t go ahead with it, but I’ll let you know either way.”

Vicky and Clive head back to their cubicles as I make my way to the elevator. It opens and Eloise exits.

Shit.

Stepping out of the elevator, looking like a supermodel, she spots me and plasters on a fake smile. As usual, she is dressed to the nines in a perfectly pressed pantsuit with nine-inch pumps. Her blonde hair is styled (yes, straight out of the salon) and her skin looks nicely tanned and extremely clear. She makes it impossible to hate anything about her. At least if she had a giant mole on her nose and a long chin, I could refer to her as a witch.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…with the baby.”

She peeks her head into the stroller and finally gets a glimpse of her soon-to-be stepson. There, I said it. Pulling back instantly, her fake smile makes another appearance. “He’s pretty.”

Pretty? She called my son “pretty”? No one calls my son pretty and gets away with it. I may have been polite to her before, but this time she has something I want, and I’m not in the mood to play nice.

“Masen is a boy, so I’m not sure ‘pretty’ is the correct word.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She shrugs it off. “My mind is all over the place. Since Haden postponed the wedding and all. The caterer is booked for the next six months so I’ve been running around trying to find a new one. It’s just been a mess.”

“I’m sure you’ll find one.” This time it’s my turn to bring the fake smile to the table.

“We’d better. The wedding is next Saturday.”

“You’re getting married next Saturday?” I almost choke.

“Uh huh. This is it. I told Haden no more postponing and he agreed,” she squeals. “I hope you’re free?”

“I…uh…Masen will probably cry and stuff.”

Did I just say that? Excuse me while my heart throws itself onto the ground so it can continue to be stomped on, along with any self-respect and dignity I have left.

“Well, that’s another thing. We’d really like it if Haden’s mom pushed the baby down the aisle. Actually, I bought this little outfit for him and my mom decorated my old carriage with lace and flowers.”

She pulls out her cell and flicks through photos while I continue to stand here, shell-shocked. The wedding is still going to happen and everything Haden said was nothing but empty promises. Lies, to be exact.

And just at that moment, the realization that maybe I’m living in denial in this sick and twisted game is like a sword piercing my heart, continually stabbing me till I am out of breath. My hands have clasped onto the handle of the stroller and all I can see is my knuckles turning stark white. My breaths are few and far between, and all the while, I hear the echoes of Eloise’s laugh taunting me, naming me a fool.

“Oh! Here it is!” She places the cell in front of me and I push it away, unable to control the fueling rage inside of me.

“He is my son,” I grit. “I don’t care what you do. But don’t you dare expect to have my son attend your wedding!