Alpha Billionaire Series

WILLOW

My back hurt; my feet hurt, and I'd tried on more sweaters than I cared to admit. Mom carried an armful of bags, all the things I had picked out for my little guy. Everything was yellow or green, neutral baby colors because I didn't know what I was having yet. After the emotional week I'd had following Charles's surprise visit to their home, I had barricaded myself in my room and refused to come out. This shopping trip was Mom's way of coaxing me back to reality.

I passed on the idea of a baby shower. Having hordes of family and friends around me trying to make me talk about all things pregnancy and motherhood just didn’t feel right. I was depressed and angry. All I needed was a few good hours with my best friend and my mom, a large chocolate milkshake which I slurped through the straw loudly, and some time to decompress. I could buy everything I needed myself. I had plenty of money. My salary for the entire year and the check from Peter had set me up pretty well.

“Aunt Sonya is still going to be upset that she is mailing a check to you instead of showing up for some party games and fun. You know that right?” Mom handed me a napkin and I dabbed at the milkshake on my chin. Most stores wouldn't allow me to carry my drink in, but this one had no signs, so we shuffled through row after row of baby clothing and items.

“Aunt Sonya doesn’t get to decide what I feel comfortable with. I'm done with society telling people what they are supposed to do because of tradition or what is expected. If I don’t want a baby shower, why should I be forced to partake of one just because the guests wanted it?” I felt the fabric of a little satin dress. It was adorable, but I was here to buy neutral clothing. If I had a boy, I'd have to return the dress anyway.

“You're so right,” Mel commented, ogling the same dress. “This is so fucking cute!” She grinned. “But yeah, people cal get fucked.”

“Melanie!” Mom scolded.

“It's Melody, Mom, and she has a point. Why do we torture ourselves because of societal expectations?” I pushed Mel's hand away from the dress, feeling the baby move around. “Want to feel it kick?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Yes!” Mel's hand instantly reached for my belly, and I positioned it right where I felt the movement.

“Here.” The movement continued as Mom and Mel took turns pressing their hands to my stomach, and when it calmed, we moved on. “Let's get out of here. I'm starting to feel too tired to walk around anymore. I think we have enough baby clothes for the time being. What I really need is for that bassinet I ordered to arrive.”

“Okay, dear. Let's go back home. Mel, would you like to join us for dinner? I'm making Willow's favorite: homemade tomato bisque and grilled cheese.”

Mel chuckled. “Willow likes grilled cheese?”Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Non-dairy cheese.” I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you should come over. It'll be nice to catch up a little more. And we can talk strategy. The new office won't be open until after this tax season is over, but it will allow us to get a great plan in order.” I slurped the shake, realizing it was almost empty, so I sucked it dry and tossed it in the trash can on our way out of the store.

“Sounds great... I'll have to follow you though. I don’t know my way around rural Virginia. I'm a city girl.” Mel winked and hooked her arm in mine as we headed down the concourse of the mall. We chatted about the new office and a few of the candidates we'd narrowed our search down to. The leader of the new office had to be strong and confiden just like both of us, and finding one was challenging.

As we left the mall, stepping out into the February air, a loud gathering a few stores down caught our attention. Ther were news crews set up, vans parked up and down the street. A cluster of people hovered in front of a store, watching something going down. It intrigued me. Things like this didn’t happen in our small town very often, so it drew our attention just as it had the crowd's.

“I wonder what's happening over there” Mel pointed, heading that direction. I was forced to accompany her because her arm was still locked around mine.

“I'll go put the packages in the car and pull it up, okay? Then we can drive Mel to her car so she can follow us.” Mom wiggled her fingers in a goodbye as she pulled her keys out and walked away. Mel and I advanced on the crowd, a loud male voice beginning to come into focus. I quickly realized whose voice it was and tried to shy away.

“Uh, no. Mel, let's just go.” I pulled at her arm, but she didn't let go. It was like she was trying to physically transport me into hell. My arm was trapped in her iron grip and my heart was pounding. “Please, I just want to go.”

“And so, I'm here today to say exactly that” Charles stood in front of a group of people, most of them reporters. He wore a suit and tie, the same black wool trench that he had on when he came to my parents’ house last week. They vied for his attention, pushing their microphones closer to him.

“What on earth is he doing here?” Mel hissed, turning to me.

“I don't know, and I want to leave before he sees me.” I pulled at her arm, but still she didn’t relent.

“Listen,” she said, shushing me.

“I made the mistake a lot of politicians make. I focused on my career and what was good for me and neglected the things in my life that meant everything to me. I even faked a marriage to better my chances at winning an election that now I regret having even participated in, because it hurt the woman I love.”

My breath caught in my throat. He was talking to the press about me. He was confessing his sins openly on camera. Why would he do that? He was just as private of a person as I was. What would possess him to share our secret with the world? I watched as he fumbled through the details of the election, Peter's advice, the standing in the polls and how things changed when we wed.

“I used Willow as a pawn in my game and in doing so I failed her. I placed my career in front of her personal life and even her physical health. She used to run every single morning religiously, and while on the campaign trail with me she didn’t run once.”

“Mr. Perish, where is Willow now?” a reporter asked him, and his eyes turned my direction. I didn’t know if he saw me or not before that, but when his eyes locked onto mine, I knew he saw me.

My lip quivered as the tears welled up. He was actually apologizing to me, and not just to me. The cameras would carry this later this evening on the news. The entire city, all of DC, most if not all of Maryland would see his apology. “Oh, fuck, he’s looking at you...” Mel's comment under her breath came with a release of her grip on my arm. She too a step away.

“What? No, come back here,” I muttered, reaching for her arm but she backed farther away. Then I noticed Charles staring at me.

“We were in love back in college.” He sighed, gazing at me like I was the only person there. “We were going to be married, but I got insecure. I thought Willow was going to leave me and instead of communicating with her, I put up wall. I pushed her away. I even used her best friend as my rebound, which only ended up hurting her more. And I did the wrong thing.”

Charles stepped down off the curb, walking in my direction. I was frozen, unable to form a coherent thought. The reporters followed him, flashes of cameras and the throng of bodies surrounding us. He took my hand, holding it gingerly.

“It's time I say what I've needed to say for eight years now.” For a minute he said nothing, only stared into my eyes. It was a long silence, but more was communicated to me in that pause of words than a billion speeches could ever say “Willow Rain Perish, I am so sorry for hurting you. You deserve so much better than I gave you. You are such an amazing woman, strong, confident, sexy and smart. I am sorry I took that for granted. Can you ever forgive me?”

I blinked back the tears. I felt the eyes of a million people staring at me, not just the reporters, but the viewers who may watch this broadcast later on repeat. I knew Charles hadn't planned this to pressure me into forgiving him. This was his way of saying he royally f****d up and he knew it. Go big or go home, right?

I nodded, and the cameras flashed again, capturing my sad expression. “I love you,” I mouthed, wishing they'd all go away.

Charles whispered, “I love you too.”

And then there was Mel.

“Alright, you've seen enough. Give these two a minute.” Mel weaseled her way into the center of the mob, pushing cameramen back until Charles and I had more space to talk. It wasn't entirely private, but it was about as good as we were going to get with the way he set this little event up. I didn’t see Peter anywhere, but I knew he had to have had a hand in it too.

“l am not going back to DC unless you say you'll come with me.” Charles pressed my hand to his lips, kissing it softly. “Charles, it will never work.”

“Don’t say that, Willow. We are in love. You admitted to me last week that you love me. When you love someone, you don’t just give up.” He cupped my cheek. “Say you'll come back with me. I need you. I don’t even want the job if you're not in my life”

I sighed. This all happened because of Peter. He was to blame. “You were fine before I got dragged back into your life.”

“l wasn't fine; I was languishing. I was working long hours and burying myself in things I didn’t want to be a part of just to keep my mind off of how lonely I was.” He kissed my hand again, then traced a line on my cheekbone.

My eyes flicked over Charles's shoulder to where Mel stood with my mother. Her car was parked in a no parking zone only a few yards beyond that. They both had stupid grins on their faces, tears in their eyes. “Look, I have plans this evening. Mel is in town, and we are going to discuss the new branch opening.”

“Then say you'll have dinner with me on Valentine's Day.” Charles's hand reached into his coat. He pulled out a large manilla envelope. “I brought the annulment papers. I want to give them back.”

“Are they signed?” My heart felt a strange dissonance. An ambivalence that had me yoyoing between wanting my freedom still and being terrified that he wanted out even though he'd apologized.

“Willow. Do you really think that I would come all the way here, set up this entire thing with the press, and apologize on national television, only to dump you?”

I felt stupid when he put it that way. My shoulders dropped and I looked away from him, down at his hand still cradling mine.

“Dinner on Valentines. But I need space before then. I have a lot to think about.”

It felt odd walking away from him. Something inside me felt like we should have kissed, or at least hugged. The reporters split into two groups, one following me to Mom's car, and the other following Charles. We dropped Mel at her car to follow us and headed home. Mom didn’t say a word. She could probably tell I needed time to process. After everything I'd been through in the past year, my heart was weary. The apology was a good start, but we had a long way to go.