The Wedding Issue

Chapter Eleven - Mommy Issues

Oh Killian, Killian!

Why can't I get you out of my head?

What is it about your eyes that has got me so mesmerized?

Why did our encounter have to be so brief?

I paced around the office with my hand on my tummy. The thought of him was making me feel like my insides were jelly. I have never felt that way before. It was bizarre and confusing. It made me feel sick. My heart was also acting a bit weird; skipping beats and doing somersaults in there. It has never done that before.

I've read about it before; the butterflies that people feel when they liked someone. I didn't really realize how overwhelming this feeling could be. Those tiny rascals playing somersaults in your belly. It was a strange, new feeling that I wasn't sure I quite liked. It made me feel weak all over and I hated feeling weak.

I should've known that man was troubled when he walked in.

I don't remember what happened in today's meeting. I think I must've agreed to everything they suggested. I wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't think at all. Luckily, Monica was there to guide them to what she thought I'd easily agree on and what would work best for this new, extraordinary issue.

The only thought that consumed my head was that of Killian. I felt so stupid. How could one encounter with an engaged man do all this to me? This wasn't me. I don't usually show interest in men unless I've carefully studied them. And even if I did show any interest, it would be momentary and it would pass the moment after. No one has ever made me feel like this before. I wasn't sure what scared me most; the thought of Killian or his effect on me?

And now not only do I have to see him at work, but he will be snapping pictures of me so that he could make money out of them. It felt so wrong. But the thought of him always lurking around was somehow exciting. Maybe I could give him a special one-on-one shoot in my bedroom. I bet there would be a few poses in there that he could personally enjoy.

There was something distressingly wrong with me.

'I'll see my daughter whenever I bloody want to see her', someone yelled outside and snapped me out of my reverie.

What the hell?

The door to my office flew open and walked in the woman who made my life a living hell.

'Is this any way to treat the woman who gave birth to you?', she shrieked as she took off her gloves and her Chanel sunglasses.

Madison walked in behind her, looking as frightened as ever.

'I tried to tell her you were busy...', she began apologizing.

'It's alright Madison. Leave us', I dismissed her.

I went to my drawer and pulled out my cheque-book. There was no need in prolonging this painful, unexpected encounter any longer.

'How much do you need?', I went straight to the point.

She looked at me in awe, but I hadn't a feeling to reciprocate.

Ever since I made a name for myself, my mother saw me as a source of income. Between all her failed marriages and boob jobs, the only time she had for her daughter was when... well, there was none.

My mother was a constant reminder for all that is wrong with the world; abandonment, betrayal and the pain of losing something you never really had.

'Why would you assume that I'm here for money?', she sounded hurt.

'Why else would you be here, Helen?'