Sigh. Food had been the enemy most of my life. I’d come to terms with my bad eating habits and learned to compromise, but it was so damn hard sometimes. I closed the freezer and opened the fridge. There was fresh watermelon and low-fat cottage cheese, so I scooped some out, dumped watermelon in the bowl and carried it to the couch. I turned on the TV and sank down, taking a bite. I didn’t mind cottage cheese and loved fruit, but a burger with all the fixings sounded so much better.
“Next time,” I silently promised myself.
I picked up my phone and realized Lars had never called me back.
That was odd.
I was a little worried about him after this morning’s media bullshit, so I typed out a quick text.
Sheridan: Hey, just checking in to see if you’re okay. Call me when you get a chance.
The days I went into the office usually started at six thirty so I’d have time to meditate and stretch, but I got up at six since the plan was to walk to work, which would take longer. Vanessa had called last night and offered to walk with me, but this time I wanted to do it on my own. I’d worked hard the last year to get where I was and had gotten a little tired of always needing help. Normally, I’d have Flynn follow me since I did get recognized sometimes, which could create a scene, but I lived in a pretty safe neighborhood, all things considered. And today was just for me. A personal goal.
It probably sounded stupid to other people, the idea that walking to work on my own was something to aspire to, but they didn’t know me and they definitely didn’t know what had gone on in my life the last fourteen months. Hell, even longer than that when it came to my personal life. Getting away from my prick of an ex had proven much, much harder than anything, other than learning how to walk again, and even that was going better these days. But now I’d met Lars and that was a bright light in my somewhat dim existence.
Being a supermodel had its perks, but there was a dark side too. Especially as a plus-size supermodel. People said such unkind things, sometimes without even realizing what they were saying.
“Wow, you’re so beautiful. Even at your weight!”
“I bet if you exercised, you’d lose it all!”
“You should try keto—and then you’d be like regular models.”
As if there was such a thing. A regular model. What the fuck did that even mean? Granted, I was blessed to be able to do what I did, make the kind of money I did, and hopefully show the women of the world that you didn’t have to be a stick to be beautiful. Beauty came in all shapes and sizes and, before my accident, I’d been active and healthy. Not everyone was that lucky, so I did my best to be a positive role model, especially for teenage and preteen girls. I spoke at middle and high schools, gave empowerment speeches whenever I was invited, and was in the process of creating body-positive messages to go with each of our lines of lingerie. But there were only so many hours in the day and I was tired.
My ex had almost broken me; the last year had come close to finishing the job.
I’d risen above it, but much of my charity and outreach work had fallen to the wayside out of sheer self-preservation. Now I was antsy to get back into everything, which was part of why I wanted to walk to work today. Alone. Free. No Vanessa, no Flynn, no anyone. Just me and my thoughts and dreams.
I’d just rounded the corner to my office building when I spotted a familiar figure standing outside and my chest instantly tightened.
What the fuck was Hugh doing here?
Dammit.
I slowed down and took a moment to breathe, but he spotted me and gave me a smarmy smile as he approached. “What? You don’t have your hockey boy toy walk you to work?” He was chewing gum and made a loud smacking noise as he popped a bubble.
“What do you want?” I asked, scowling as I stood a couple of feet away from him.
“What I’ve always wanted. You.”
“That ship has sailed.”
“Not from where I stand.”
I didn’t respond, merely waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.
“You know I’m never going to sign those papers, right?”
I sighed. “That’s up to the lawyers and the judge.”
He took a step closer, his face twisting into a snarl. “That’s up to me. Every fucking thing is up to me. You’d be smart not to forget that. I’ve owned you since you were fifteen years old, and you will always be mine. No matter who you fuck, where you go, what you do. Mine, Sheridan.”