His Young Maid: A Forbidden Boss Age Gap Romance Daisy Jane (love letters to the dead TXT) 📖

“Britta,” my voice is controlled and smooth, as to not feel dominant over her in her current state.

“Yeah?” she sounds so raw and I wondered how long she’d cried alone up there. I wished she’d have called me.

“Where does your mom live? You mentioned your mom before, the day you broke the glass,” I shift my eyes between her and the road, letting my car’s smart driving take hold as my eyes drift to her like a magnet. I can’t help but look, I want to see the expression on her face when she talks to me, so I can read her. I want to see the feelings there on the surface that she doesn’t want to put in words.

“She’s back home, a couple hours away. Small town, you wouldn’t know it,” she snuggles her chin into the crook of her elbow, still looking out the side window. “Well, her ashes are. She died three months ago. I came here the day of her funeral, after of course.” She went silent again, and held her legs a bit tighter to her chest.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, I’m sorry,” I wanted to hold her, kiss her head and tell her it would be okay. I remembered when my Dad passed away. The loss seems unbearable at first and you can’t imagine not having them there to talk to, share laughs with, get mad at—all of it. But we were driving and she was still purposefully withdrawn from me, and I couldn’t rush her. Especially since I knew at some point, I’d have to tell her about Darcy and the agency.

Not yet though. I just needed a few more good times before that.

“It’s okay,” she turned to me, sending a stream of excitement through my core, like the cold water from a hose.

“I mean, I loved her and I miss her so much but I was taking care of her for so long and,” she paused, sitting up in the seat, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears. She looked so beautiful, I didn’t know I was even capable of seeing this type of life in someone, but I did.

I saw a new life, with her.

She’s so young, I’m old, I should let her have a full life with someone else. I don’t want kids, I’ve already traveled. It was just another sign that pointed to leave her alone. Let her go. But I can’t.

Knowing she will hate me when she finds out about my past, I can’t bring myself to make that hate come any quicker. She’s a new drug to me, I have to have her, she is vital to my existence now. I’m putting off withdrawal for another day.

“And?” I wanted to know the rest.

“And I just got so tired. And scared. Scared that I’d be too tired and I’d mess up in a crucial moment, like changing the IV bag or, or giving hers meds, you know? I was trying to balance school but then had to quit. But I had to work because... I’m sorry,” she covered her mouth with a closed fist, her knuckles pressed hard against her pink lips.

“I want to know, please, continue,” I caught her eyes across the cab, light flitting in and out of the moving car, and she smiled. Small, but still a smile.

“Well, she needed a kidney transplant but they wouldn’t give her one because her illness was related to her liver disease which was caused from the drinking. And she had it in her record she’d been an alcoholic for some time, so it was a preexisting condition. Made all chances at getting help from insurance nonexistent. I had to work to pay lots of bills, pay the minimums on the consolidated bills. I sold nearly everything except the couch I slept on, next to her bed, in the living room. Kept a table and the kitchen things we needed but the rest… gone.” She took a deep, pensive breath, her eyes fixed to nothing on the dash in front of her. Jerking her head up, she spoke again, looking at me this time.

“When she passed, I was relieved because I needed my life back. I was drowning, and I felt so selfish for it,” she admitted, tears streaming down her smooth cheeks, bottom lip trembling. “Who is happy when their mom dies? I’m an awful person. That’s why this stuff is happening.” She pulled her sleeves over her fists, balled up, and put them to her head, sniffling quietly.

“Britta, listen to me. It is normal to be relieved when an extremely difficult situation comes to a close. Emotionally, you are not fit to withstand that type of situation for such an extended period of time. To celebrate and welcome your freedom returning is normal. It does not change the love you had for your mom, at all.” I spoke with authority, my voice solid, raised. She nodded, I saw in the peripheral, my eyes now locked on the road, unable to look at her so close to me. It was driving me nuts. Even in her state of despair, she drove me nuts. I wanted to toss her on my cock and bounce her in my lap until she was screaming my name, no mention of guilt allowed. I’d make her feel better.

But she wasn’t ready for that yet, so until then I had to use my words.

A few minutes of silence passed and by the time she spoke, we were approaching the gate at the bottom of the hill, at my house.

“Thank you. Thank you for saying that. I know you’re right. I guess I’m just trying to feel bad for myself and I shouldn’t. I don’t have it bad. It’s a rough patch and I’m fine. I was lucky to have had her.”

She smooths her hair and tugs at her skirt and it’s only now that I realize she’s wearing a short plaid skirt