Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“My phone is dead,” I whisper through my tears. Owen is there waiting and I can’t get to him. I feel sick knowing that he is the last little kid on his own waiting for me. How must he feel?
“Do you want to use mine?” she asks.
“Oh, please.” I take the phone from her and quickly Google the preschool’s number and dial them up. It rings and then I get a message.
Hello, you have reached
ABC Learning center.
We are currently closed right now.
Please call back during the operating hours o
f 8am to 5pm,
Monday to Friday.
My eyes widen in horror. “Oh my God, it’s the answering machine,”
I cry.
The lady in the line behind me speaks up. “Do you want me to ring my daughter to go and get him. Where is it?” she asks, concerned.
“This is a nightmare. They wouldn’t let her get him anyway.”
We wait and we wait, and I can’t even ring Jenna because I don’t know her number by heart. Why the hell didn’t I charge my phone properly?
A cab finally pulls into the parking lot and everyone sighs in relief. “Thank you so much for letting me go first,” I thank them as I climb in.
“ABC learning Centre… on… on Russel Street,” I stammer. “And please drive fast. I’m so late.”
The driver nods and pulls out into the traffic and I glance at my watch again. I’m now thirty-five minutes late.
I’m a terrible mother. How could I have let this happen?
After the longest ten minutes of my life, the cab pulls up at Owen’s kindergarten. “Wait here, please,” I tell the driver as run up the driveway just as the woman is locking the front door.
“Oh my… God,” I pant. “I’m so sorry. My car got blocked in and couldn’t get here.”
She looks at me, unimpressed. “He tried to call you but your phone was turned off. Owen’s father came and got him.”
My eyes widen in horror. “What?”
“We called his father and he came and got him. You know what time we close.” She looks at her watch. “Forty-five minutes ago.”
“Yes. I… I apologize about that...” I stammer. I turn and run back to the cab and shuffle through my purse to dig out Cameron’s address on a piece of paper. I hand it over. “Take me here, please.”
The car pulls up outside Cameron’s house and I gingerly climb out. “Just wait a moment, please. I need to see if he’s here,” I tell the driver.
I go over to the gates and push the doorbell. The security guard comes out. “Is Cameron home with Owen yet?” I ask.
“Yes, Ashley. He got home about half an hour ago.” He smiles.
“Thank you.” I smile awkwardly, then I turn and pay the cab driver, not hanging around to watch him as he drives off into the distance.
Cameron’s going to lose his shit, and I close my eyes because I know I deserve it.
I walk up the front steps and knock on the door. Owen bounces in to view through the glass. “Hi, Momma.” He waves.
I smile as relief fills me. He’s safe. Thank God, he’s safe.
Cameron opens the door and glares at me.
“Hello.” I smile as I bend and take Owen into my arms. “I’m so sorry. I got blocked in and I couldn’t get a cab.”
Cameron holds his arm out for me to come inside, and I walk in sheepishly.
“Momma, Dad picked me up and I made him a painting today.” He smiles happily as he leads me through to the kitchen and shows me his painting in its prime position on the fridge.
Cameron is in navy suit pants and a white shirt. His tie and suit jacket have been discarded, and my eyes fall to his biceps and shoulders that I can see through his shirt.
Why does he have to be so fucking gorgeous?
Owen is drinking hot chocolate and there’s cartoons on the television.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask.
Cameron glances at Owen.
“Alone,” I add.
He points to the stairs. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I gulp. Shit. “Okay.” I turn to Owen. “I’m just going to talk to Daddy for a moment, darling. Watch your cartoons and then we will get going, okay?”
“Alright,” he calls, distracted by the television.
Cameron walks upstairs and I follow him like a naughty child.
Fuck’s sake.
He walks to his bedroom and I follow him in as he closes the door behind me.
“Cameron, it was a nightmare. I got blocked in by some inconsiderate asshole, and then my bloody phone was dead and I couldn’t get a cab. I didn’t know anyone’s number by heart.”
He glares at me. “Do you have any fucking idea how angry I am with you?”
“I know.” I shake my head. “I’m angry with myself.”
“He was there by himself. You should have seen his face. He was so worried.”
My face falls.
“Why was your phone dead?”