3. Five Whole Years

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~~~OLIVIA - five years later~~~

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"Kelsey Jennifer Smith, you really need to get up now or you will be late!" I walked into my baby's room, a spatula in hand to find that my baby girl who had to leave for kindergarten in half an hour was still in bed and with the blanket over her head.

"I don't want to go to school!" She whined from under her space blanket.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and placed my hand on where I saw the bump of her head. "And why is that, monkey?" I asked her, lighting tapping on what I assumed to be her forehead.

Kelsey threw the blanket off her face and pouted. "I will go to school if you give me something that I am going to ask you!"

Oh boy. This was never fun.

My baby girl, no matter how much I hated to admit it, was a product where the sperm won the gene battle. My genes didn't even try. Except for hair color and face shape.

So she was stubborn as an ox, like her biological father.

And she always got what she wanted, like her biological father.

And that never went well for me, like it was with her biological father.

"And that is? A kiss? More chocolate syrup on the waffles? Don't say a puppy." I grinned at her, hoping she would not grab onto the puppy that I had let slip from my tongue.

"A Daddy."

I froze.

"Huh?"

Kelsey sat up on her bed. "I want a Daddy, Mommy. Everyone at school has a Daddy, except me. Why is that?"

Maybe, the puppy was a better option.

"Uh... Jasmine has two Mommies." I tried, squirming uncomfortably in my seat.

Kelsey was only four. And she had never mentioned her father before and I never brought it up. I thought that when she was older, I would be able to make her understand. But now? At four years? This was going to be a task.

"Then get me one more Mommy." Kelsey scoffed.

"Am I not enough?" I pouted.

Kelsey narrowed her eyes.

I know I know. I should not be emotionally blackmailing my own child but what else was I supposed to do? Where was I supposed to get her a Mommy or Daddy when my last relationship had ruined relationships for me?

But hey, another Mommy. The idea wasn't too bad. If only, I developed an attraction towards women.

"Mommy!" My kid brought me out of my useless train of thought.

"Yes, monkey?" I smiled sweetly at her.

"I want a Daddy. You suck at running." She said.

I gaped at her. "I run faster than you."

I know I know. I should not be comparing myself with a four-year-old but what else was I supposed to do?

"You don't run faster than other Mommies and Daddies at the parent sports meet!" She pointed out.

Should I just spend more time at the gym because her need for a Daddy seemed to be rooted in being good at athletics?

My heart stung. Her biological father really was good at sports though. Except, he could never be her Daddy.

"Honey..." I started but sighed. What was I supposed to tell a four-year-old? "It's complicated okay? You are too small to know and understand."

"I want a Daddy." She said stubbornly. "And I want a brother."

"Where did that come from?" I spluttered.

"Mommy, please?"

"Monkey, I won't say it again. Get out of bed and brush your teeth. Then we will get you ready for school."

"But I want a Daddy!" She screamed.

"I will get you a Daddy for Christmas," I said. Wow, Liv, nice going!

"Really?" She grinned. That look of victory that she got copy-pasted from her biological father.

"Yes really."

"That is, in two weeks?"

Oh shit.

"Bad word Mommy!"

Did I say that out loud?

"So in two weeks?" She held up two fingers, up on her feet, and bounced on her bed.

"I meant next Christmas!" I tried to placate the situation. Where was I supposed to find a Daddy in two weeks?

"Nooo!!"

"Fine! Two weeks." I sighed. I sucked at this parenting business.

Leaving Kelsey to brush, I walked back to the kitchen, massaging my temple with my free hand.

What had I done?

What was wrong with me?

I was going to disappoint my daughter in the worst way possible in two weeks. Unless I put an advertisement in my newspaper for a Daddy for rent or something!

Huh. That ain't a bad idea! Maybe I should do just that!

I smacked my head.

That was a terrible idea.

A horrible idea.

One that would inevitably blow up in my own face in the worst way possible.

Where do I come up with such stupid shit? This is because of this dumb brain that I got the many heartbreaks of my life!

I paused.

Let's not go into details of all that because it is far too depressing.

"Monkey! Do you want waffles or pancakes?" I called instead.

"Monkey waffles!" I got the reply.

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A lump formed in my throat as I read the headline.

Fashion mogul dies at 56.

Lily Reign was dead.

My ex-mother-in-law who was like a mother to me, my baby's grandmother, was dead.

A lone tear trickled down my cheek and I hastily wiped it away.

No, Liv. Don't cry. These are people of your past! They don't hold any importance to you!

She had not once tried to contact me after the divorce. She was on her cheating son's side. There was nothing for me to feel sorry or sad about.

Or so I told myself all morning.

My head hurt like a bitch and I had no choice but to take my afternoon off.

I walked into the apartment, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed on the couch. I needed a good cry. A hard cry. The kind of cry that would rip my soul apart. But, no, I shouldn't do that. I promised myself that I would not do that.

Tears streamed down my face.

Ugh, when will my eyes ever listen to me?

Instead, I decided I needed a bath. And a nap before it was time to pick Kelsey up from kindergarten.

But before I could even do that, the doorbell rang.

I groaned. Who could it be?

Dragging myself off the couch, I walked to the door, peeking through the peephole.

My heart stopped.

Jackson Reign.

The man who had crushed my heart into a million pieces was standing outside my door.

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