<b>Chapter 75 </b>
~CELINE~
<b>65</b><b>% </b>
The ice cream parlor was exactly what Caesar needed–bright colors, cheerful music, and about twenty different vors to choose from.
I watched him press his nose against the ss case, his eyes wide with wonder as he tried to decide between chocte chip cookie dough and strawberry swirl.
“Can I have both, Mama?” he asked, looking up at me with those big blue eyes that reminded me so much of Hunter it made my chest ache.
“Just one scoop, baby,” I said gently. “We don’t want you getting a tummy ache before the m
He nodded seriously and pointed to the chocte chip cookie dough. “That one, please!”
As the teenage girl behind the counter scooped his ice cream, I tried to push thoughts of Hunter out of my mind.
This was supposed to be my day with Caesar, our special time together. I wouldn’t let Hunter’s touch, his whispered promises, ruin this moment.
But even as I paid for the ice cream and found us a small table by the window, I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my thigh.
Could still hear his voice in my ear, low and rough with want.
“Mama, you’re not eating yours,” Caesar pointed out, chocte already smeared around his mouth.
I looked down at my vani cone, untouched and starting to drip. “Sorry, sweetheart. Just thinking.”
“About work?” he asked, swinging his legs under the chair.
“Something like that.” I took a bite of ice cream, trying to focus on its cold sweetness instead of the heat that still burned in my belly whenever I thought about this morning.
Caesar chattered happily about everything he could see through the window–dogs walking by, cars in funny colors, people carrying shopping bags.
His joy was infectious, and slowly I felt myself rxing, remembering why these moments with him were so precious.
We were almost finished when Caesar suddenly perked up, looking past me toward the street.
“Mama, look! Isn’t that Mr. Hunter’s car?”
My blood turned to ice. I turned in my seat, following his gaze, and sure enough, there was a familiar ck sedan parked across <b>the </b>
street.
Through the tinted windows, I could just make out the shape of someone sitting in the back seat.
Wawatching us? Had he followed y’s here?
we <b>go </b>say <b>hi</b>?” Caesar asked excitedly, already sliding off his chair.
<b>“</b><b>No</b><b>!</b><b>” </b><b>I </b><b>said </b>quickly<b>, </b>grabbing his arm. “<b>I </b>mean<b>, </b><b>no</b>, baby: <b>Mr. </b><b>Hunter </b><b>is </b><b>probably </b><b>busy </b><b>with </b><b>work </b><b>stuff</b><b>. </b><b>We </b><b>shouldn’t </b><b>bother </b><b>him</b><b>** </b>
16:46 Sat, 2 Aug
Caesar’s face fell. “But he likes me. He said I could have pancakes whenever I want.”
My heart squeezed at the hope in his voice. He had no idea that Hunter was his father, but somehow he’d already formed an attachment to him.
It was what I’d been afraid of from the beginning.
<b>65</b><b>% </b>
201
“I know he likes you,” I said softly. “But grown–ups sometimes have meetings and things they have to do. Maybe we’ll see himter, okay?”
Caesar nodded, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
I felt terrible for crushing his excitement, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t let him run over there, couldn’t face Hunter in public where anyone might see us together and start asking questions.
We finished our ice cream quickly after that, Caesar’s mood dampened despite my attempts to
m up.
As we walked to the movie theater, I kept ncing over my shoulder, but the ck car was gone.
Had it really been Hunter? Or was I so worked up about this morning that Twas seeing things that weren’t there?
The movie was one of those animated films about talking animals going on adventures. Caesar perked up during the funny parts, his giggles echoing in the small theater, but I couldn’t concentrate.
My mind kept wandering back to Hunter’s hands on me, to the way he’d looked at Caesar at breakfast like he was seeing him for the first time.
What was I doing? This whole situation was spiraling out of control.
Hunter was my boss, Caesar’s father who didn’t know the truth, and a man who could destroy our lives with a single phone call if things went wrong.
But when he touched me this morning, when he whispered those words in my ear, I felt more alive than I had in years.
For just a moment, I’d forgotten about all the reasons this was impossible and let myself imagine what it might be like to be wanted by someone like Hunter Reid.
“Mama, are you crying?” Caesar’s small voice cut through my thoughts.
I reached
up and realized there were tears on my cheeks. “No, baby. Just something in my eye.”
He studied my face with the serious expression he got sometimes, looking far too old for his four years. “You look sad.”
“I’m not sad when I’m with you,” I said, and that much was true. Caesar was my light, my reason for everything. “Want some popcorn?”
His face <b>lit </b>up, and I bought us a small bag to share.
<b>For </b>the rest of the movie, I forced myself to focus on him, on hisughter and excitement, on the way he grabbed <b>my </b>hand <b>during </b><b>the </b>soy parts even though the movie wasn’t really scary at all. <fnb99b> Content originallyes from f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fnb99b>
AP
movie<b>, </b><b>we </b>walked to the thrift store a few blocks away<b>. </b>Caesar loved looking through <b>the </b><b>toys </b><b>while </b><b>I </b><b>searched </b><b>for </b><b>clothes </b>that might <b>fit </b><b>him</b><b>. </b>
10.40 Sat, 2 <b>Aug </b>
He was growing so fast I could barely keep up, and my maid’s sry didn’t leave much <i>room </i>for new clothes.
“Mama, look!” Caesar held up a small stuffed elephant, gray and worn but still cuddly. “Can I have him?”
The price tag said three dors.
I calcted quickly in my head–we still had enough for the bus ride home and maybe a small snack if Caesar got hungry.
“What’s his name?” I asked, taking the elephant from Caesar’s hands.
“Peanut,” Caesar said immediately, hugging the toy tight. “He looks like a Peanut.”
I smiled despite everything. “Then Peanutes home with us.”
We found Caesar a few shirts and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d fit, all for under twen
As we walked to the bus stop, Caesar chattering to his new stuffed elephant, I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay.
But deep down, I knew nothing would ever be the same. Hunter had crossed a line this morning, and so had I.
There was no going back to the way things were before when I could pretend he was just my boss and nothing more.
The bus ride home was quiet, Caesar dozing against my shoulder with Peanut clutched in his arms.
I stared out the window at the city passing by, at all the people living their normal lives without theplicated mess I’d created for myself.
<b>65</b><b>% </b>
What was I going to do tomorrow? How was I supposed to face Hunter, to work in his house, knowing what his hands felt like on my skin?
How was I supposed to keep protecting Caesar from the truth when every day it became harder to hide?
As the bus pulled up to our stop, I gently shook Caesar awake. “Come on, baby. Time to go home.”
He mumbled sleepily as I gathered our shopping bags and helped him down from the bus.
The walk back to the servants‘ quarters felt longer than usual, my feet aching in my shoes and my heart heavy with worry.
Tomorrow I’d have to put on <i>my </i>uniform, tie my hair back, and pretend to be nothing more than the help.
I’d have to serve Hunter his breakfast and act like his touch hadn’t set me on fire.
But tonight, I had Caesar. Tonight, I could hold my <i>son </i>close and remember why I had to be strong, why I had to keep fighting <b>for </b>the life we’d built together<i>. </i>
<b>Even </b>if it meant breaking my own heart in the process.
16:46 Sat, 2 Aug