65. Aarya #2
He shifts from one foot to the other, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. She has no patience when someone is asleep. You should see her on Christmas morning.”
“What’s her name?”
“Giuliana.”
“Pretty.”
He takes a step forward, but I move backward. “Aarya, I owe you an explanation. I know this is probably a bit shocking—”
“You think?”
He grimaces. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Did you want me to find out? Because you haven’t said a word to me about that little girl.”
“I know. Once you told me you wanted to do the whole fake marriage thing, I planned on telling you. But then last night happened the way it did, and...” He lifts his shoulders and lets them fall. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
“Why have you been hiding this?” I dip my head and lower my voice. “The world has no idea you have a child.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.” He glances over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.
“I don’t want her to have to deal with the paparazzi, the media, or anything else that comes along with my hockey life.
I know it’ll happen eventually, but I’m just not ready for that yet.
I want to keep her protected for as long as I can. ”
“Daddy, hurry.” Giuliana sticks her head through the doorway. “Aarya’s pancake is getting cold.”
Alexander flicks his eyes to mine. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I understand if—”
“Come on, kid.” I breeze past Alexander and head toward the kitchen. “Let’s see this princess plate you’re talking about.”
Just because I’m pissed off at her father doesn’t mean I have to upset Giuliana too.
Her eyes light up as she reaches out for my hand. “You’re sitting next to me over here. I always use the princess plate for breakfast, but you’re a guest and Daddy says we’re supposed to treat guests extra special, so I let you have my plate. Who’s your favorite Disney princess?”
“I, uh, I don’t know. I never really liked Disney movies when I was a kid.”
Giuliana freezes as she cranes her neck to look up at me. “Why?”
“I’m not really a princess kind of girl. I don’t like the idea of needing to be saved by a man.”
She tilts her head like she’s processing what I said. “The princesses can do the saving. Elsa and Anna save each other, and they’re sisters. I don’t have a sister, but I’d like one. Do you have any sisters? My friend Makayla has a brother, and he’s really cute but he drools a lot.”
Giuliana rattles off question after question, and I’m not sure which one I’m supposed to answer first, or if they’re rhetorical, but I’m starting to lose track of them.
She climbs onto the stool at the island, grunting as she maneuvers around her cast. Then she pats the cushion of the stool next to her.
“This is your stool.” I sit, and she inches her stool closer to me until it knocks into mine.
“Look! It’s a capital A for Aarya. Daddy let me use a butter knife to cut it out.
He always cuts my pancakes into special letters and shapes. Do you like it?”
I nod. “It looks great. Thank you.”
Alexander steps into the room, side-eyeing me, while his daughter keeps talking.
“I like to dip my pancakes into the syrup like this.” She dunks one end of her pancake into a small cup of syrup.
“But Daddy likes to pour the syrup on top.” When she brings the pancake to her mouth, a string of sticky brown liquid drips onto the counter and her lap, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Daddy is a really good cook. He makes the best pancakes, but we also have a waffle iron.”
Alexander lifts a coffee mug and gestures to the Keurig. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black, please.”
He scrunches his nose. “No sugar, or creamer?”
“Nope.”
“Daddy says I’m not allowed to drink coffee because it’ll give me too much energy,” Giuliana says, now with syrup somehow on her nose.
I nod. “You do seem to have a lot of energy.”
She grins, revealing all of her tiny teeth, as if I gave her a compliment.
Alexander sets down a mug in front of me. “Can I get you anything else?”
I snatch the cup and wrap my fingers around it, relishing in its warmth. “I’m good.”
He turns around and pours pumpkin spice creamer into his own mug that says Number One Dad.
I arch a brow. “You like pumpkin spice?”
“I do.” He clinks his mug against mine before taking the seat on the other side of his daughter. “And I don’t think I like your tone.”
I snort. “I just find it interesting that the big, tough hockey player likes pumpkin spice coffee creamer.”
Giuliana giggles. “He has dress-up tea parties with me too.”
Alexander gasps, clutching his chest. “My own daughter just threw me under the bus. Whose team are you even on?”
She squeals with laughter. “I’m on Aarya’s team now.”
“You little traitor.” He reaches over and tickles her stomach, causing her to let out an ear-piercing shriek. “That was supposed to be our little secret.”
I can’t help but stare at the scene in front of me.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was contemplating marrying this man for one-hundred-thousand dollars. It was supposed to be a simple arrangement. A business transaction, really.
But now...how am I supposed to live here?
Like this. With them.
A pretend husband is one thing, but a pretend family?
I can’t do this.
Giuliana’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Do you like your pancake?”
I tear one of the legs off the letter “A” and stuff it into my mouth. “I love it.”
She beams. “We’re going to the park today. Can you come with us?”
“Oh, uh, no. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Her bottom lip juts out. “Why not?”
My eyes fly to Alexander’s, unsure of what to say.
Alexander covers her hand with his. “Aarya has to work today.”
“What’s your job?” she asks.
“I work in an art gallery.”
“Do you paint?”
I shake my head. “People come in to look at paintings, and I give them a tour around the gallery. I teach them about the artists.”
“Can I come see your gallery?”
I hike a shoulder. “Sure. Do you like art?”
“I love art. I like to draw and color and paint. We paint at school, and my teacher says I’m a natural. That means I’m really good at it.”
I smile. “Maybe your artwork will be in a gallery someday.”
She whips her head around to look at Alexander. “Daddy, can we go to Aarya’s gallery today?”
“Not today, baby. We’re going to the park so we can spend some time together before I leave for my game tomorrow.”
My eyebrows push together. “Who stays with Giuliana when you’re out of town?”
“I have a nanny. She lives in the guest house.” He points somewhere over his shoulder. “She was one of my mom’s close friends.”
Sadness pricks my heart. He doesn’t have family to help him with his daughter, and she doesn’t have grandparents, or a mother.
I glance down at Giuliana as she dips another piece of pancake into the syrup, getting it all over her fingers, happy as a pig in shit.
Who did he have a child with, and why isn’t she here helping take care of her kid?
After I finish my A-shaped pancake, I ball up my napkin and push back from the island. “Well, thank you for breakfast. I should get going.”
Giuliana shoots up onto her feet. “You’re leaving already? But I want to show you my room.”
Alexander grabs her waist, pushing her back down until she’s sitting on the stool. “Easy. You have to be careful.”
I bring my dish to the sink so I don’t have to look into Giuliana’s sad eyes.
Puppy eyes just like her damn father.
“I need to head home and get ready for work,” I lie. “But maybe you can show me your room another time.”
“You’ll come back?” she asks.
Alexander watches me like he’s wondering the same question.
“Sure. You can give me a tour of your room, and show me some of the artwork you made.”
Without warning, she dives off the stool and into my arms. I stagger backward, catching her so she doesn’t tumble onto the floor.
She wraps her arms and legs around me like a little koala bear, squeezing me with all her might. “I can’t wait.”
Bile creeps into my throat, making it hard to swallow.
Fuck, I have to get out of here.
I set Giuliana down on the stool, and bolt out of the kitchen.
“Have you seen my shoes?” I ask to no one in particular as I lift the blanket off the couch to check underneath it.
“I took them off while you were asleep and put them by the front door.” Alexander grips my elbows to steady me as I spin around and bump into his chest. “Your things are all by the front door.”
I push out of his grasp, and storm into the foyer. My boots are beside the door, and my purse sits beside a tote bag on the entryway table.
“I packed leftovers for you,” he adds, gesturing to the containers inside the tote.
“Thanks.” I shove my feet into my boots and grab everything off the table, rushing as if I’ll be trapped here if I don’t get out of the house right this second.
Without looking back, I tear open the door...and then I’m gone.