Slaying the Dragon (Deception Duet #2) by T. K. Leigh Page A

and some milk, I tried to ignore the unsettled thoughts floating through my mind. This was the story of my life. Just when everything seemed to be back on track and I thought I’d get over my past, a reminder of what I had been through would show up on my doorstep. I didn’t know how many setbacks a person could possibly endure before it became too much.
    I walked to the living room, noticing her eye the stack of bills on my kitchen table, a look of sympathy on her face. I didn’t want her empathy. It would just be another reminder of how naïve I was.
    “Won’t you have a seat?” I gestured to the couch as I sat down in the spot that had always been mine.
    “Thank you,” she said, sitting down on the opposite end. She glanced to my stomach again, a forlorn expression crossing her face. “Well, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”
    I laughed nervously at the light tone of her voice. “You could say that. In all honesty, I’m scared to know.” Raising my cup to my lips, I took a much needed sip of my coffee, despite the fact it was decaffeinated.
    “May I ask you a question?”
    “Certainly,” I replied, my voice guarded. Placing my mug on the coffee table, I braced myself for whatever she was about to ask.
    “How far along are you?”
    “Seventeen weeks.” I glanced at my stomach, placing my hand over it. “Almost eighteen.”
    “During those almost eighteen weeks, how many times have you tried to get in touch with Tyler?”
    “I’ve lost track,” I admitted, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I didn’t want her to see how much her son’s actions affected me. “I told him to stay away, but I didn’t think he would.”
    “I know, dear,” she said, scooting across the couch and grabbing my hand in hers. The contact was comforting and soothing.
    “I started to think I made him up. I went to his house and…” I turned my gaze from her, the memory of that day still fresh, the feeling I was losing my mind resurfacing.
    Placing her hand on my shoulder, she said, “I can imagine how difficult it is to see the reminders of him–”
    I shot up. “ No ! It’s so much more than that. After I was home for a week, I finally stopped being stubborn and decided to go over there to talk to him about everything. You know who answered the door?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Who?” she asked cautiously.
    “A man who knew my name, who tried to convince me he had been living in that house for years!” I began pacing in front of her, reliving that day from hell. “It was exactly as I remembered. The décor the same. The cars the same. Hell, anchored out back was the same yacht I remember! I was so confused. I was convinced I imagined everything between us! I searched for some sort of proof that what we had was real, that we did know each other, but there was nothing. Photos had been manipulated on my phone so he was no longer in any of them. Not one trace of his existence in my life was left. I couldn’t help but think I made it all up! Even after all the assurances my friends had given me that he was real, that he did exist, I still questioned it. Until…”
    I stopped in my tracks, my hand settling on my stomach. “Until I found out I was pregnant. This is the only proof I have that I’m not fucking crazy and I hate it. I hate that he lied to me. I hate that he did this to me. But mostly…” I fell onto the couch, finding my way into her nurturing arms. “Mostly I hate that I miss him. I hate that I told him to stay away and he listened. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about him. And I hate that I think I still love him, even though I’ll never be able to trust him again.”
    “Shhh,” she soothed, kissing the top of my head like my own mother used to do. “It’s going to be okay. He went after you, ya know.”
    I pulled out of her arms and stared at her. “What do you mean?”
    “He tried to stop you at the airport, but couldn’t get to you in time. Hours later, I found