👱🏻's POV
By 3.30 we're already at her place to wait for the call. Pao is still at the party with Hugo and Alex, the hot date.
It's Saturday but I asked Hugo to take Pao today and tomorrow so Precious and I would be able to spend the entire weekend be it to celebrate a good news or mourn a bad one. I must say I'm grateful for having a considerate ex like him.
"Let me take the call okay," she tells me upon hearing her phone ringing, "Alone." Then she slips into her bedroom and shuts the door.
I'm nervous, like jumping-the-cliff-without-parachute nervous.
If she's not pregnant, she's gonna repeat IVF for the fifth time, and I bet she's gonna use the donor's sperm since she's been telling me a million times how sh
👱🏻's POV Two days after the blow up, on that Monday morning, my lawyer contacted me about a letter sent from a certain family lawyer demanding for my presence the next day regarding the custody of Paola Harris Ortega. She sure worked fast on getting back the time she lost with her daughter, and silent too since I heard nothing from her until that morning when I was slapped with that letter and a thick proposal. I spent the entire day with my lawyer consulting the terms and each point of her demand, but the gist from our discussion was that, she wants Pao for four days four nights a week while the remaining is up to me and Hugo on how to divide it. From having five days five nights a week, she's demanding 90 percents of my time with my baby. I called
Four days into October and I've been texting Owen since last week about wanting to meet him. Requesting to meet him. I even called him multiple times but none were answered, it's obvious he's avoiding me.But I can't email him, because then we'll have to involve our lawyers. That means jeopardising the four days I have with Pao. So no, I need to talk to him without them.I have no choice but to ambush him that Tuesday afternoon when I went to the school just to catch him in time picking up our daughter. Fine, I actually have been waiting here since an hour ago, afraid if I'd miss him so the moment I see him walk into the school compound, I ditch my stalking spot and tail him for an encounter."Mama!" Pao calls me cheerfully the mo
It's Thursday morning. I couldn't sleep at all after he left last night. By 7am when Pao wakes up and barges into my room, I decided to leave my problem aside so I can focus with what I have now; spend quality time with my daughter. We cook breakfast and eat together, change our clothes then off we go to the school.I know I shouldn't run from him but I can't. I can't see the lawyers. I'm not willing to handover the four days I have with my daughter to him. The best case would be for me to get the weekend, but I don't want just that. I want my four days. I want to have bedtime story with her every night, and see her face first thing in the morning. I want those.That's why I hide at a cafe nearby the school. I'm so sleepy from the lack of sleep, at the same time my body hurts from sitting since the morning until it's time to pick up Pao from school, but I can't
Back to the office after five months, being dragged from one meeting to another since 8 in the morning, with hardly any break even during lunch hour, I feel energised instead of demotivated by knowing how much these people need me for important, crucial matters that can't be moved forward unless they get my view or approval. It feels awesome, to be needed, to be used for my expertise.Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love spending time with my daughter but knowing I'm being valued at my potential, to my maximum capacity, is liberating.Or to be short, I love working. I love being in the corporate world. I love, love, love my job and yes, I'm the definition of workaholic.All in all, I'm super glad and relieved to be at the office again, mingling with people my age, my crowd, talking about important things that matte
👱🏻's POVIt's been rough since I saw her last week, on the day she ran after me to ask for a mere five minutes of my time.It was so hard to be heartless with her but I had to do it, I had to make a stand before she bullies me into taking the one day I have with Pao; I had to be heartless for my daughter.That's why I kept a minimal contact when it comes to her. I didn't reply her texts, just keeping it as formal as I could which is to send a few pictures and be done with it. Or to avoid saying anything to her if it's unnecessary.I punch the code of the digital lock while hearing her laughter. My heart drums to the sound that I miss so much I had to stop for a while to take a deep breath before stepping into the apartment.
Mondays and Tuesdays are the only days I allow myself to indulge in my workaholic trait, but not to the extend of risking my pregnancy.My assistant makes sure I eat my meals, and before she leaves the office on these two days, she'd always bring my dinner at 7pm sharp. Just so I won't forget to eat in case I'm too absorbed with work.In short, I've gotten the hang of this, of my new routine.Around 7.50 in the morning, my baby daddy would reach on the doorstep of our co-parenting apartment in a pair of jeans, hoodies, sometimes with a cap, to take care of Pao since I'd leave for work before 8. He'd go straight to his Princess, getting busy with anything, literally anything so he can avoid me.
I don't know where did I get that sort of bravery (or cowardice, it depends on how you see it but I'm choosing bravery) when I walked away from him, feeling like a warrior, like a modern Mulan, escaping him and his expensive car with the built in driver, because no means no.But yes, I do want to be his breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or all of them. My battery operated boyfriends know how much I want to be his meal.I chose no not because I'm challenging him so I'd get to be his meal. I'm saying no simply because I'm tired of being ignored, of being treated as if I'm invisible.It's my day off, I
I'm super grateful that the following day is Saturday so I don't have to see him for the next four days. Though at the same time I've been scrolling through our past photos and videos, especially during my personal time with my boyfriends. Girl needs inspiration, okay.But that Wednesday afternoon when I arrive home, dinner isn't ready yet. It's weird, because normally around 6, everything's already on the table.He's standing behind the island, punching a dough with his daughter. Looks like we're having pizza today.I return to the kitchen once I've changed into another one of my boring loose sweater and maternity leggings, wanting to participate in the pizza making. If it were up to me, I'd rather chill with Nancy, watching Netf