Chapter 115

“I’ll leave you alone with your daughters to talk things over,” Mrs. Pine says to me as she, I, Iris, and Violet convene in the living room of the house for sale that we have been touring.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pine,” I reply.

Nodding, Mrs. Pine steps out the front door, closing it behind her.

I turn to my daughters. “What do you think, girls?”

This house is smaller than Garnar’s. It’s a single story ranch, though with three bedrooms and a finished basement where the girls can play. The backyard is spacious with a big oak tree in the middle.

It’s everything I’ve been looking for, with enough space for my girls to live and play. In the same school district, it’s not too far from Garnar’s house. The girls will be able to visit as often as they want, and vice versa.

Assuming that things between Garnar and I remain cordial.

As perfect as this house is, I brace myself. My daughters, Iris especially, have been particularly difficult during this house-hunting process. While I’ve felt like we’ve patched things up since the fairgrounds, I couldn’t pretend to be inside of their heads.

“I like it,” Violet says, and it’s such a relief I exhale a huffy breath.

Smiling at her, I say, “Thank you, Violet. I’m so glad you think so. I like it too. What do you think, Iris?”

Iris, her hands in her pockets shrugs one shoulder higher than the other. “It’s okay.”

Compared to our previous conversations, this is practically a five-star review.

“Really?” I ask her. “You think you can live here?”

“Yeah,” Iris says, nonchalant. The corner of her mouth lifts upwards into a tiny smile though. She likes it more than she’s letting on.

I’m overwhelmed with happiness. Finally, I can take steps forward for the betterment of myself and my children. Living in that spare room under Garar’s roof has been an unnecessary stress on me, which I’m sure has passed onto my children.

The separation will be good for all of us.

I bend down to my knees, throw open my arms, and hug my two daughters. Violet hugs me back tightly. Iris lightly pats me on the arm.

It’s not perfect, but it’s good.

When our hug is broken, I go to the front door and call for Mrs. Pine.

“We want to make an offer,” we tell her.

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Pine says, smiling wide, her excitement matching my own.

The past few days, since leaving that hotel room where I’d been with Miles, have been a whirlwind of emotion for me.

When I was with Miles, it was so easy to convince myself that the two of us could stand up against the whole world and be perfectly fine. Now that I’m on my own… my conviction is quickly faltering.

Miles has a young man’s confidence. Even though he’s been raised among politics, he can’t possibly fathom how deep the reach of the Whisperers goes. To so blatantly cast aside their demand of me… I don’t know. It feels dangerous.

It makes me worry, for Miles. For myself. For my children that might get caught in the media storm that a scandal would bring.

I shake my head, trying to clear away the thoughts. Since leaving Miles, I’ve become so distracted. I’m sure others are beginning to take notice.

After separating with Mrs. Pine, I load the girls back in my car and start the drive back to Garnar’s house.

“Do you think Miles will like the house?” Iris asks.

I startle slightly, thanking God I was at a stop sign.

“Why would Miles care?” I ask, trying to play it cool. “Why would he even see it?”

“He’ll come visit,” Iris says, matter-of-factly.

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

“He likes you,” Iris replies.

This time I anticipate the jolt of surprise and don’t swerve at all, even though I’m driving again. “We’re friends,” I say.

“Is that all you are?” Iris asks.

In the rearview, I see Violet glance at Iris with curiosity.

“I think you like him,” Iris says.

“Don’t be silly,” I say, focusing on the road.

“Mom, your face is all red,” Violet helpfully adds.

“It’s sunburn,” I say.

Violet looks at her sister again. In a whisper-yell, she tells her, “Mommy’s fibbing.”

Aside from my distraction, the weekend continues on well enough. Mrs. Pine says my offer is being considered. The girls and I have some fun thinking about how we might decorate each of their rooms. Violet insists that she wants a dog.

By Monday, I should be refreshed after a nice weekend with my daughters.

Instead, the bags are heavy under my eyes. I haven’t slept a wink in days. Every time I close my eyes, the worry overwhelms me again.

I don’t want to lose Miles. I want to trust him and his ability to take on the Whisperers. But they are the most powerful secret organization in the entire country, and Miles, though politically affluent, is just one man.

Even with his connections, how can he hope to survive this potential hurricane? And why should he? To preserve a strictly sexual relationship?

The sex is mind-blowing, life changing; there’s no denying that. Even the thought of Miles’s hands on my skin sends pleasant tremors up my spine. And the way he kisses… He could sweet talk me into doing anything for him and he wouldn’t even have to say a word.

Yet, as great, fantastic, wonderful as the sex is, it is just that – sex.

Miles and I are not in love. This isn’t a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship.

For his sake and for mine, I need to stop being selfish and end it.

After driving to work, I discover the main parking garage where I usually pull my vehicle is closed for paving. Annoyed, I turn and try to find alternative parking.

I manage to find another lot a few blocks down. This will make me slightly late, however, because now I have to walk.

Not seeing another choice, I park my car, grab my bag, and start walking toward the office building.

My thoughts remain in turmoil.

If I try to end things with Miles, he won’t handle it well. Likely, if I tell him in person, we will fall into bed together again. He can be very convincing with his body, mouth, and tongue.

Even if I hear his voice, I’m not sure I’ll be able to go through with it. He’d ask me one question, why, and I’d break immediately.

Maybe I could write a letter… Perhaps an email?

God, how terrible could I be? The depths of our passion, and I want to end it with a letter. He deserves better. He deserves –

“Esther! Watch it!”

Suddenly, an arm snaps around my waist, suddenly yanking be backwards against a hard male chest. Ahead of me, I realize now, are moving cars, zooming by where I nearly walked.

Placing both feet firmly on the sidewalk, I’m shocked by my own carelessness.

I very nearly walked into traffic.

Were it not for my savior…

Glancing over my shoulder, I look up into the worried eyes of Hugo Harbinger.

“Esther. What on earth is wrong with you?”