Reluctant Love, Part One

Chapter Eight

Sophia

Another week had gone by since that night and I’d realized that I was craving Alex’s presence more and more every day. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to miss him, but I was beginning to. I found myself looking forward to my lunch hours and became even more fond of the times when he would pick me up after work.

I would have to end whatever we had going on soon.

I didn’t want to and I didn’t think that Alex wanted that either but …

I glanced over to the front of his ranch that was visible from the kitchen of the diner to see him standing there with a woman.

A woman? My stomach immediately sank and started twirling in its place.

As subtly as I possibly could, I walked over to the window and pulled the blinds down a bit.

The girl—whoever she was—stood close enough to him that I knew she wasn’t there for business.

Though I couldn’t see their faces, I could tell that they were sharing a laugh from the way that Alex was bending at the hips. That coiling feeling in my stomach grew deeper.

“Y’know,” someone startled me by speaking, “I’m no relationship expert, but I’m pretty sure that spying is a surefire way to ruin any good one.” I turned around to see Katelin, one of the waitresses, smirking as she came to stand beside me.

“I’m not spying,” I replied and cleared my throat.

“Miss Sophia,” she said, raising her eyebrows and gesturing her head to the small window. “You’re spying. But it’s okay. I would too if I saw my man talking to someone and laughing like that.”

I shook my head and returned my attention to the window. Katelin had been one of the people who I confided in at this diner. One of only two. She knew exactly what was going on between Alex and me but chose to continuously mock me about him.

“Should I go over and see what’s going on?” I asked her when she started spying alongside me.

“I don’t want to play devil’s advocate,” she replied, “but yes. Yes, you should.”

I would have breathed a small chuckle, but I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. Who was the girl, and why was she close enough to Alex that she could laugh with him?

“Isn’t your lunch in like five minutes?” I looked at her as she spoke. “Take it early and find out.”

I considered it as I turned my attention back to him in time to see them hug. I stopped breathing. The woman was leaving now and he was headed inside, more than likely to get the keys to his truck to come pick me up.

I nodded. “Alright then.”

I did as Katelin suggested and took my lunch early. Though I rushed out of the diner to walk the rest of the way to Alex’s ranch, my stomach was fighting against me. What if the girl was simply someone that he had known—an old friend or something? The thoughts were going through my head at a speed that shouldn’t have been legal by the time I made it to the doors of his house.

Should I knock? This was stupid. I had no right to be reacting the way that I was because he wasn’t mine. In fact, I’d been a couple minutes away from breaking off this agreement. Why was I reacting like this to seeing some woman talking to him?

I was about to walk off his porch when the door opened.

Shit.

I spun around in time to see him standing at the door.

His face immediately went pale, like he’d seen a ghost.

I grinned humorlessly. “Hey …”

He was quick to come out onto the porch, closing the door, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by me.

I knew Alex.

A part of me knew that he would never do anything to hurt me.

I trusted him that much.

But I also knew what I’d been through.

And I knew that people were good liars.

I furrowed my brows at him. “What’s inside, Alex?”

“Nothing,” he replied too quickly and rubbed at his forehead. “Wanna go get something to eat?”

I squinted my eyes. “What’s inside?”

“Nothing.” He squared his shoulders at me.

“I’m not leaving.”

He was about to reply when the door began opening. My heart sped up and slowed down at the same time.

I looked at the door half expecting a woman to be standing there. I knew that my heart would’ve broke had my guess been correct.

Instead, I saw a little hand pulling open the door.

A little boy—about five or six years old—stood there, a tablet in his hand and glasses on his small face. Even from where I stood, I saw the golden-brown color of his eyes. They were Alex’s eyes.

“Daddy, Grandma says that I shouldn’t be having this much screen time,” his high voice said.

Grandma?

Daddy?

Alex sighed and turned to him. “She’s right, bud. Go get your Legos.”

“Daddy?” My own voice seemed foreign.

Alex turned to me with parted lips and slightly widened eyes. “Sophia,” he breathed and turned to the child. “This is Ethan, my son.”