12

"I want him," I say, releasing a fearful breath. "I want the baby, and I want his father."

She grimaces, resting her forehead on the mirror in a "God, kill me" gesture that amuses me. I laugh, making her look back at me, and her gaze softens. She gives a small smile and lowers her gaze to my belly. Her smile widens.

"A nephew," she whispers as if she's listening to a fantasy. "Is he treating you well?"

I make a face, not stopping from touching my belly.

"It's a boy," I roll my eyes, and she laughs, shaking her head. "Yes, he's treating me very well. And just as well, he messes up."

"What does he say about the pregnancy?" I loosen my smile, pressing my lips and avoiding her gaze. "Doesn't he want to take responsibility?"

"He doesn't know," I rush to tell her, her furious tone. She bites her cheek angrily. "I haven't been able to tell him..."

"Why not? Do you think he doesn't want to?"

Tears well up, exhaling air discreetly.

It was so painful to think that maybe he doesn't want the baby. I don't know how to tell him, and waiting for my belly to grow more isn't a good option.

Axel's idea of leaving the country doesn't sound so bad.

"I don't know if he wants to..." I murmur quietly and hesitantly.

My hand trembles as it holds the phone, and I squeeze my other hand on my left leg, trying to calm down. I can't keep suffering for him, but it hurts a little.

Talking about him always hurts a little.

"Don't worry, I'll make him find out," she threatens.

I sigh, leaving the tears behind.

"No, that's my issue. Yours is to keep up good behavior and be completely honest with the lawyer, Alejandro," I point out, approaching the mirror in a hurry, licking my lips as I look at her. "Don't do anything stupid."

"How would I do that? You're the only stupid one here," she smiles, placing her hand on the glass, making me imitate her. "You shouldn't have"bothered doing that, Michelle.

"I told you I would do anything to get you out of here, Alejandro," I say, opening the car door and putting the key in the ignition to start the engine.

"Hello?" I answer, confused.

Mon amour.

My body immediately reacts to his voice. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my toes curl at his perfect French. I put him on speaker, feeling nervous.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand French. Wrong number," I say, puckering my lips, smiling.

He grunts from the other side, and I press my lips, amused.

Ah, how I love to get under his skin.

Don't you dare hang up, Michelle?

I raise an eyebrow, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel absentmindedly. I stick my tongue to my cheek, deep in thought.

"Is that an order, Mr. Müller?

"Michelle, please, can we have a conversation without getting on each other's nerves?"

I visualize him in his office, rubbing his temple while holding his phone with a clenched jaw and a rigid body. The image makes me smile because somehow his suffering from not being able to control me amuses me.

"I'm driving, Mr. Müller. Contact my secretary for a possible response," I click my tongue.

I hear him sigh deeply, his tone becoming harsher and firmer when he speaks again. A rough and gruff voice.

Park the car and let's talk.

"Things aren't that easy, Mr. Müller," I turn the steering wheel; I'm near downtown. "Hmm, I'm craving some tacos."

I bite my lip, maybe I'll get some when I arrive. Perhaps Axel will join me for a movie, or we'll continue looking for baby names.

I think for a few seconds, nah, I'm too lazy.

I'll just grab some on the way.

Lily prepares them deliciously, I invite you to some.

I purse my lips, hadn't I hung up on him? I scratch my head, trying to stay calm, exhale with a grumble, and park the car near a flower shop. Through the window, I gaze at some beautiful tulips that make me hallucinate. All of them are in different colors.

"God, they're such beautiful tulips," I whisper, blinking as I pick up my phone. I thought I had hung up on you.

Luckily, you're quite absent-minded, and I could still hear you, beautiful.

I roll my eyes, I hate him.

"What do you want, Arthur?

Right now, a few kisses.

I nod slowly, pursing my lips in thought. I feel my blood heat up at the thought of him with someone else, damn jealousy.

"Fine. What do you want me to do then?

Come over and give them to me.

"The thirsty one seeks the water. I'm not going to make it so easy for you.

With you, things are never easy, mon chéri.

I can sense him smiling mischievously for making me growl with his comment. I huff, fixing my gaze on a guy with his girlfriend. I squint my eyes, the guy just got down on his knees to kiss the girl's belly.

I shudder, feeling my heart pounding rapidly at the damn irony of life.

"Arthur, I..." I fall silent, rubbing my eyes with my fingers. I bite my lower lip, using the call time as an excuse not to think. "Why are you calling me?

I need to see you, darling.

"But I..." I trail off.

I run my hand frustratedly through my hair, irritated by the way he talks to me. He can heat my body and accelerate my heart with just a few words, and it annoys me so much because he's probably calm.

While I'm at war with my mind and my heart. With what I feel and what I should do.

I found out how the journalists got to you. I can't tell you over the phone.

"Okay, I'll come to your office," I start the car.

I begin to enter the address in the GPS when his voice speaks up again.

I'm not at the office, I'm at home.

I furrow my brows, the question escapes my mouth without warning.

"Why? You're a workaholic.

I have more important things to do.

I change the route, biting my lip as I whisper that in a low voice. The phone was close to me.

"What things?" I look up.

I envision his face, completely blue and daring. Analyzing my expression and wanting to capture it when he says that, making me gulp.