It was one thing to believe that agents of DOM didn’t have love lives. It was very much another to live out its opposite to fully understand why that was an issue.
I started listening to the voicemail but it was the last couple of lines in the voicemail that really unsettled me.
“So, it’s done. I’m hopefully pregnant. I just wanted to say thank you.”
What happened to four weeks?
And right then, I realized the stupidity of my thinking. Four weeks was probably the maximum amount of time this process would take. In reality, once I jacked off to the thought of Emily, nothing else fucking mattered on my end. I just needed to claim my prize and get the hell out.
And I had failed pretty miserably at that.
So what did I do now? Just send her my address and banking info by email or letter? Or did I actually reach out? Did I tell her I was sorry for ditching her at lunch and that I kind of want to have that lunch, or did I vanish into thin air?
The contract was more or less stipulated that I vanish into thin air. The courteous thing would have been to bid farewell, but at the end of the day, I would have eventually had to do this.
But fuck that.
I did what I wanted, how I wanted, when I wanted. And I got what I wanted. And right now, I wanted to talk to Emily and get this shit settled.
I dialed her number. The good news was she picked up.
“Hel…there?”
The bad news was the reception was so awful that I couldn’t hear a thing.
“Emily?” I said. “I’m calling to let you know this isn’t over yet. OK? I need to talk to you. I don’t want to not be a part of this. I’m coming to Miami when this is done, and we are going to have lunch okay?”
“…off, you never… Come through.”
Fuck. I should have just hung up now and let the call shit be figured out when I got back.
“Emily, I want you to change the deal. I’ve changed my mind. I think I want to be a part of the kid’s life. Can you hear me?”
No answer.
“Emily?”
I looked at my phone. The call had dropped. I nearly threw my phone in frustration. Instead, rather liking the idea of being able to contact her when I got back to the States, I kicked the ground and cursed loudly.
Liam and Scott didn’t say a word.
I took a deep breath and sighed. I could still salvage the day by killing Snake.
But I wasn’t sure how much of the future I could still salvage, if any.
Chapter 13: Emily
The instant the phone rang and I saw it was from Burke, my heart leaped with joy.
It was almost evening and my day had gone pretty well. I wasn’t particularly proud of the fact that Burke’s calling could throw me back into an emotional state, as if I was some sort of teenager, but I’d deal with that later. For now, my hands started to shake as I grabbed the phone. I took a deep breath, released, and answered.
“Hello there?” I said excitedly.
But there was silence. Then a loud static buzz. And then Burke’s words, barely audible.
“…change the deal … changed my mind … this is done.”
That’s…that’s why he fucking called me? To tell me that he has changed his mind? Hiding behind some sort of impossible to hear static line?
What sort of fucking bullshit was this? Seriously? This was what he fucking wanted to tell me?
“Oh fuck off, you never actually do what you say you’re going to do, Burke,” I said, my emotions starting to get the best of me. “You never come through.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“…coming to Miami... you hear me?”
This was too fucking much. If I stayed on this line for more than another five seconds, I would lose my shit and cuss him out like a fucking sailor. I hung up.
“Hope you have a nice life, dick,” I said, even though I’d already hung up.
I wound up my arm to chuck my phone across the room, but instead meekly tossed it to the other end of the couch, where it bounced a couple of times before falling onto the floor. It seemed like an appropriate metaphor for my relationship with Burke. It started out looking like it would have the potential for a great baby maker transaction (with the hope of firework level fucking on my part), only for it to end on a whimper of a call where Burke had, through static, basically told me to fuck off.
I was suddenly really sad that becoming a mother had become so transactional.
I started to sob.
Was this what I really wanted? Seriously?
This whole “take a couple weeks off” shit had backfired miserably. It was supposed to be relaxing, and instead, it was quite the opposite. Far from escaping the office, I needed to get back to it.
I liked my job, don’t get me wrong, but my job was never my purpose. For the longest time, just living life was. And then this child was and would be.
But this child wouldn’t distract me from feelings about everything. And yes, I knew I couldn’t just run from the feelings forever. But I needed some distance that only time could provide before I could properly handle them, otherwise, I’d feel like I was now.
I called my boss and told him that I’d be back the following Monday. He expressed surprise at it, and I
