“How are things with your parents?” I reroute my thoughts back to work which is a difficult feat when I’m with Flynn. She’s wearing a loose dress and every time she crosses and uncrosses her legs I catch a glimpse of her white panties. I’m sure she’s doing it on purpose.
“Things with my dad are better. My mom…not so much. I don’t think either of them are even talking to each other yet, which is going to be very interesting in the next few weeks.”
“Why’s that?”
“Lucas’ wedding is coming up.”
“I see. What do you want to happen with your parents?”
She rolls her neck like she’s rolling the question around in her head. She’s contemplative and starts toying with the gold necklace adorning her neck.
“I don’t want them to separate. As pissed as I am at my mom, I’ve already lost so much because of all this bullshit. I mean, my siblings are only half my siblings. My dad isn’t my dad. My identity, though already thin, has shattered. I understand where my dad is coming from and that he’s furious with her. I don’t blame him at all, but…I also want it to be over with, you know? I’m a little sick of the fighting and the subsequent indifference. I want them to hash it out and move on. They’re strong enough, I believe that. They’ve been together a million years already. I think they can get over this hiccup.”
“And what if they can’t?”
She huffs. I know she hates when I answer her with a question and even more so, she hates when I make her dig deep down into her feelings.
“I’m afraid if they separate I’ll lose my connection to my dad.” Her voice is low. She’s vulnerable and her hands fall clasped together into her lap. She doesn’t want to look at me, but I push her.
“Flynn, from what you’ve told me, your father is a good man. He loves you and he told you he’s always going to be your dad. I know it’s hard for you to do, but you need to trust him. Have some faith.” Though she nods, it’s not confident. “Look at me,” I tell her. “No matter what happens, everything is going to be fine.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“In this scenario, I can. Because even if things go sour with your family, you have me. I’m here for you.”
A sweet smile pulls at her lips. She still hasn’t told me she loves me back, but that’s okay. I’m not going to push or pressure her. I know emotions and relationships are difficult for her. Plus, with the possibility of her family splintering, things are more precarious than ever. Flynn’s health could take a hit here. I want to drive to her parents’ house and tell them everything, how they’re putting their daughter at risk by not putting her first. How all of this could affect Flynn and take her ten steps in the wrong direction. But obviously, that would be a massive overstep and a violation of HIPAA to say anything to them.
“Tell me about your new living situation. How’s that going?”
She offers me a cheeky smile, grateful for the change in topic. She licks her lips and by the glimmer in her eye, I can tell she’s about to say something dirty. But she doesn’t get a chance. We’re rudely interrupted by my ex barging through the door with my secretary in tow.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Whitmore, I tried to stop her.” I want to be mad at my secretary for doing a shitty job, but I know it’s not her fault. My ex-wife is relentless and a general nightmare on a good day.
“Miranda, you can’t barge in here, and especially not while I’m with a patient.”
“A patient? Please. Your fuck buddy is hardly worth calling a patient.” With that, Amanda leaves with a grimace. Sonofabitch. I suspected she knew about Flynn and me, but she didn’t need to hear it like this.
The three of us are in a standoff in my office. Flynn looks ready to kill Miranda while Miranda sneers at both of us. I step in front of my ex in a not-so-subtle way of shielding Flynn from her. She laughs without humor and my blood starts to boil.
“You need to leave. This is not the time or place,” I tell my ex-wife.
“Please, tell me when would you prefer? You’ve been dodging my calls, not returning my texts, and I haven’t even been able to catch you at home. I assumed you were spending all your time here or with the tramp.”
“Flynn, maybe you should go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so stubborn.
“She should stay. She’s part of the reason we’re here anyway, right?” Miranda walks over to the gray couch in the center of the room and makes herself comfortable. “So, tell me. Do you have my money?”
“No, I don’t. You think I’m just going to pay you because you threaten me?”
“If you know what’s good for you.” She’s smug, one leg crossed over the other, her foot bouncing in the air. Her arms are sprawled across the back of the couch. She has not a care in the world.
“Miranda—”
“Allow me.” Flynn struts over and my ex makes an almost imperceptible change. She doesn’t want to appear intimidated, but she sits up slightly straighter. Flynn braces her hand on the back of the couch, right beside Miranda’s bicep and leans down to get right in her face. “I don’t give a shit if you film us having sex just to leak it the fucking tape, you psychotic bitch. You are not getting another dime out of this man.”
Miranda sits up, not one to be trifled with. “We’ll see about that.” She pushes off the couch and storms out of the room.
