Indulge Me

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

MIAWhen we left St. Barbars, the sky was a midnight blue already. I slid into the passenger side of Michael’s car and let him drive aimlessly through the city. He rested his hand on my thigh and took an exit we hadn’t ever been down, but I didn’t complain. I loved going on adventures with him even if it was to the grocery store at eleven p.m. It didn’t matter to me.

“I have a dinner party with some people from the office on Friday night.” He turned onto a dirt street and drove into the wooded area. He paused for a moment and glanced over at me. “Do you want to come with me?”

I gulped. Michael worked as a principal architect on the Vestige Towers Project in the center of the city, which was projected to become the next hub in the nation within the next few years. I hadn’t met anyone from his work before, and to say I was nervous was an understatement.

He glanced over at me and chuckled deeply. “It’ll be fine, Mia. It’s just dinner.”

But I couldn’t stop imagining about what his coworkers would think of us. Those ladies at the assisted living center surely had their opinions on our relationship. Hell, the receptionist had thought I was his daughter, for Christ’s sake. What would his coworkers think?

I grasped his hand and squeezed it tightly. “Do they know about me?”

“Of course they do.”

“No, I mean … do they know about my age?” I asked, sucking on my cheek.

It was one thing to tell his coworkers he had a new girlfriend. It was another for him to show up at a fancy dinner party with someone half his age.

He sighed through his mouth. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t care what anyone else thinks of this age gap between us? I’m not going to let them make my choices for me. It’s me and you, Mia.”

There was a small clearing ahead. He drove into it and parked his car. My eyes widened at the entire view of the city—the sparkling lights from the Vestige Towers, the hum from Market Square, even some city workers exiting their buildings this late at night.

I glanced back over at him and smiled. “Me and you,” I whispered.

Michael thrust a hand into his left pocket and fumbled around for a few moments, staring out the windshield at the entire city glimmering against the dark night sky.

Between our seats, my phone buzzed, and Mason’s name flashed on the screen.

Mason: Let’s meet up.

I froze on the spot. Michael tensed next to me, his hand on my thigh tightening.

“Meet up?” he asked me, trying to keep his voice steady, but I could hear the hurt in it.

I parted my lips. God, what is with us and crazy exes?

“Why does Mason want to meet up with you?” Michael asked, pulling away from me.

When his hand left my skin, I felt like I had betrayed him. I should’ve told him about Mason sooner, but with the drama with Melissa’s mother, I had forgotten. Or maybe I hadn’t had it in me to add another problem to our relationship.

“Have you been texting him?” he asked.

“No,” I said strongly. “He has been texting me, and I have been ignoring him.”

“Why haven’t you deleted his number?” Hurt crossed his face. “Or blocked him?”

“For Melissa.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, it sounded like such a shitty excuse. But it was the truth. I glanced at the stars, then back at him.

“I want you and Melissa to speak again. I want you to have a good relationship because my dad and I have a shitty one. She needs someone who will support her emotionally.” I held his hand and trailed my finger across his knuckles. “I don’t care if she never talks to me again. We have our own problems. But I still want her to be safe, and if this”—I held up my phone and scrolled to the hundreds of unanswered messages from Mason—“will prove it to her, then I’m going to use it.”

I didn’t want him to worry or to think I was cheating, but I had to be honest with Michael. This wasn’t about me. I didn’t give a f**k about Mason texting me, didn’t need to keep his messages or pictures to reminisce on old times. I needed them to try to protect Melissa whenever she wanted to talk to me again.

Michael took his hand out of his pocket and rested it on the steering wheel. “Okay,” he said cautiously.

I frowned at him and cupped his face in my hand, trying to figure out how to prove to him that Mason meant nothing to me.

“If you want me to block him, I will,” I said.

But I knew deep down that blocking his number wouldn’t stop Mason from bothering me. He’d take it out on someone else like Melissa, or he’d show up at Michael’s front door to try to get me to talk to him again.

Michael stayed quiet for a while and clutched my hand tightly in his. “Promise me you love me more than him,” he whispered.

“I love you, Michael, more than I have ever loved any other man.” I pushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

It hurt me to see him hurt. It was usually men who hurt me. Being on the other side of the pain sucked almost as much for me because I knew what it felt like.

“I would do anything to keep us together.” I pressed my lips on his and crawled into his lap, resting my knees on either side of his legs. “Anything.”