Being Mia

27 | Puzzled

27 | Puzzled

Wyn

✩───✩───✩

The heavy bedspread beneath me sobs with need as I struggle to sleep, begging me to relieve the tension in my body by crawling under the covers.

It's late. There's a soft blinking light on the nightstand from the hotel clock. Usually I wouldn't stay in something like this, for my safety and comfort, and would find any way back to my apartment. It was only a few blocks from here—ten blocks from the hospital.

The last time I had been in the hospital was a job—Matthew Sparks. I looked great in scrubs. Even better when torturing the scumbag that got a little too cocky when we hired him out for a few jobs in my new pair of borrowed scrubs. He's alive. Walking around this city with the same mark as a few of my enemies. It looked much tidier with the sharpness the scalp provided when I thought of it next to the pocket knife wedged in my clothing.

When I close my eyes, I tried to think about his screams. His, like all the others, were usually the memories keeping me up at night. Although, it seemed tonight was much different.

My hands crossed over my chest as I tried to relax over the uncomfortable bedding, head rested on the stiff pillow. Behind my closed eyes, the greeting of a sinful memory haunted me. Olympia's fearful eyes flashed repeatedly, her yip of fright ringing in my ears. I blew up everything I vowed to avoid in my relationship with the mother of my child to little, itty bitty pieces, all over my uncontrolled anger.

I can't believe I had allowed myself to scare her as badly as I had. Put my hands on her without automatic remorse. I deserve this sleepless night. Every ounce of guilt bubbling inside me, keeping me awake tonight, was nothing less than a deserved punishment from the universe.

I had put my hands on Olympia. My anger almost came between the life of my child's mother and my child's ability to thrive. The ability that child would have to live happily with her mother and escape this horrible generational repetition of emotional abuse and attachment. Olympia was too good—a sweet girl with hope for more than she let on. The child can expect protection, love, and unconditional understanding from this generous-hearted woman. Things I couldn't provide one-hundred percent of the time.

Olympia and this child's safety had to be my key priority. This involved me stepping back from my place when appropriate and only offering her enough to keep her happy and protected. Olympia's involvement in my life was one puzzle piece I didn't need to search for a place for, yet she's become the only thing on my mind.

A piece I didn't need, yet it always had a place. Like it was meant to be here—She was.

Even now, as I lay here, staring at the ceiling, all I can think about is the woman I treated so horribly hours prior. The woman sleeping in the hospital is probably wondering how to dodge my hold on this child after they are born.

Whether she likes it or not, I've already decided how this would play out. I will make sure Olympia and the baby are well taken care of under my hand in marriage, as this child is a Forbes by blood. From the moment my family learns of the child, we're keeping tightly under wraps, I know they'll feel the same. Every second of that child's life will mean more than mine ever did. And every moment Olympia is pregnant will mean everything to my mother—my family's legacy.

That's if she doesn't wish to leave the second she feels better.

"No," I sat up quickly and flared my nostrils.

Olympia wasn't some oven, cooking my only escape from my family's constant questions and pleads to continue their linage. We weren't kings and queens and this child would not take over this kingdom—I would. This was a bubble of lies that I'd feed my family to gain enough power to take over for my father when he was ready.

That mattered—Power. My power. My control. I was the one that held the life of another bigot in my hands. Never would I allow that to be a job for my child.

Losing Olympia to this would mean I was powerless in controlling myself.

Fucking powerless.

Pushing up from the tightly made bed, I didn't hesitate to grab my clothing. I'd collect my belongings in the morning. I need to get to the hospital and nothing was going to delay fixing my stupidity.