Sugar Daddy by Rebel Wild

Author:Rebel Wild [Wild, Rebel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rebel Wild
Published: 2022-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Gage

I turn toward the window, folding my pillow before lying on it. As comfortable as this bed is, it’s not our bed. Even if it was, I don’t think it would change the fact that I can’t sleep. McKenzie’s words from last night still ring in my ears. She’s right. I am a fucked-up piece of shit. I’ve hurt the one person in the world who matters the most to me, all because I didn’t trust her with the title. But I’ve realized it too late.

I may have just lost her forever.

The sun isn’t even all the way up yet, but dark clouds threaten rain. It’s a fitting start to what I pray isn’t going to end up being a shitty day.

I manage to get in half an hour before I give the whole thing up and get out of bed at around five. More and more, I find it difficult to sleep alone. Even more so when the one I want to sleep with is in the same damn house, pissed at me. Even more so still when I’m left wondering if that same person will ever get past how I was planning to hurt her—how I’ve already hurt her.

I greet Mrs. Wallace; the help I hired to take over for Vera on her off days. The last thing I wanted was for McKenzie to feel like she had to cook and clean. I shake my head at myself. All these provisions to make things easier for her while making everything worse.

“Good morning, Mr. Remington. What would you like for breakfast today?” Mrs. Wallace asks in the professional manner I’ve come to expect from all of my employees.

Since I missed Vera yesterday, I go over McKenzie’s new eating restrictions with her. She makes note of them to pass along to Vera in her report for Monday morning.

I carry the breakfast tray she put together for McKenzie, hoping she’ll be well-rested and up for talking. If not, at least I hope she’ll be up for eating.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, turning from where she’s perched at her vanity table to watch me come in before going back to fixing herself in the mirror.

It appears she’s been up for some time. She’s already dressed.

“I wanted to,” I say, sitting the tray down on the already made bed. Unsure of how to proceed, I take a moment to study her as she sits with her forehead in her hand. “Do you have a headache?” I try to keep the worry out of my voice.

“No,” she says to my reflection in her mirror. Her response tells me she’s picked up on it. “I’m just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“That’s my fault. The last thing I wanted to do was make things worse for you. I know my timing sucked, but I had to tell you. Seeing what I was doing to you, I couldn’t stand it.”

“I know the feeling,” she whispers so low I’m not sure it was meant for me to hear, but I nod my head just the same.

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