WORTH
Morning finds me with Mya in my bed and a knot in my chest.
She’s asleep on her side, facing me, wearing my T-shirt and smelling like my soap, hair a loose halo on my pillow. If I were a smarter man, I’d just lie here and let this be what it is: a perfect, stupidly domestic moment I wasn’t supposed to get. Instead, my brain does what it always does and skips ahead to endings.
Because the truth is, the arrangement is technically over. We did what we said we’d do. Mya could pack up and walk out tomorrow and no one could say she didn’t hold up her side.
But last night didn’t feel like two people wrapping up a deal. It felt like a couple coming down from a hard day together. It felt real. And I know that scares her.
I watch Mya breathe for a minute, my hand resting on the curve of her hip. I don’t want to let this go. I don’t want to go back to a house that’s tidy and silent and doesn’t have her laughter in the kitchen or her curls on my pillow. I don’t want to see Brianna’s face when she realizes Mya is no longer coming down for breakfast anymore.
So I tell myself maybe we don’t have to rip the Band-Aid off in one clean pull. Maybe I can buy us a little time. Let her seemore of my life and what it looks like when my family loves someone. Maybe if she sees she fits, she’ll stop trying to outrun it.
I brush a piece of hair off her cheek. “Kitten,” I murmur. “You awake?”
Her eyes flutter open. “Mmm. Barely.”
I smile. “I need to ask you something.”
“That sounds serious.” Her voice is rough from sleep, and it does things to me I don’t want to name. “What is it?”
“My mom’s birthday is this weekend,” I say. “We’re going up to Nantucket. I want you to come.”
Mya blinks once, twice. I see her guard go up as she pushes up on an elbow, T-shirt sliding off one shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I keep my face neutral, even though irritation flickers under my ribs. Of course she’s pulling back. “Why not?”
“Because,” she says, gesturing between us, “the arrangement is over. Meeting your family makes things… blurred.”
“They think it’s real,” I remind her. “My parents have been asking to meet you for months. If I show up without my wife, they’re going to have questions I don’t want to answer yet.”
Mya chews the inside of her cheek. “Then tell them I’m busy.”
“That works once. Maybe twice. Not when it’s my mother’s birthday.”
She sighs and falls back against the pillow. “It’ll just cause more trouble. First they meet me, we get attached, then we separate, and I’m the villain.”
“It doesn’t have to cause trouble. We go, we celebrate, we come back. Simple.”
“Nothing about this is simple, Worth…”
I lean on the piece I know she won’t ignore. “Bri will ask why you’re not coming.”
That lands. I see it in the way her eyes soften, the way her shoulders sag. I don’t love using Bri as leverage, but it’s the truth. My daughter is attached. She’s going to want Mya there. And if Mya suddenly isn’t, she’s going to be crushed.
I inch closer, prop my head on my hand. “Please come to Nantucket. Meet them. We’ll keep it light. No heavy talks. No future stuff. Just living in the moment.”
She stares at the ceiling for a few beats, jaw working. I can tell she wants to say no. I can also tell I’ve found the crack in her facade.
“Okay,” Mya says finally, exhaling. “But we’re counting this as my last contractual event obligation.”
I bite back a smile. “Last one, huh?”
She narrows her eyes like she doesn’t trust me. Fair. “Yes. After that, we go back to the plan.”
After that,I think,maybe you’ll see what I see and the plan won’t look so good anymore.
Though I don’t say it out loud. If I push, she runs.