Page 16 of Billionaire Unbroken - Asher
I took care of my own needs when necessary, and it was getting a little disconcerting that those needs were popping up way more often than usual. It was also more than a littleuncomfortable that every fantasy I had when getting off revolved around my housekeeper.
“Do you need to get out of here?” Sierra whispered in a concerned voice as she leaned closer to me so I could hear her.
The selfish part of me wanted to get up and go.
I’d never had to please anyone but myself after I’d become an adult.
“No. Eat your cake,” I demanded gruffly.
Sierra was excited about tasting the decadent wedding cake, and I wasn’t going to drag her away before she’d had that opportunity.
Besides, Iwasthe best man. I needed to stick around as long as possible, and I wanted to have a few private words with my brother before he left for his long honeymoon.
I didn’t stop to think about my actions or the fact that, for the first time in a long time, I was more interested in making someone happy than my need to escape.
Sierra
“Did you get the money I sent?” I asked my mom later that evening as we chatted on the phone.
“I did,” she said in a rueful voice. “Honey, are you sure you have that much extra money?”
It really hadn’t been a lot of money, but I’d sent her everything I possibly could.
“Things are getting better, Mom,” I said in an upbeat voice. “I’m making money and I have more than enough. Use it for expenses. You need to get your car fixed.”
My mother needed so many things.
A better vehicle.
New clothes.
A new roof and other pressing repairs on her old home.
So many things I couldn’t provide for her right now, but I was working on it.
She’d worked as many cleaning jobs as possible to raise me on her own, and she’d made so many sacrifices for me.
My father had never wanted anything to do with a kid he didn’t want, but I’d never missed having a dad in my life.
Mom had always been my everything.
She couldn’t work anymore.
She’d been forced to retire when her body had given out from so many years of physical labor.
At the age of thirty-seven, I should be in a better position to take care of her, but I wasn’t.
I hated myself for that.
I’d screwed up my life so badly that I wasn’t where I needed to be at my age.
“Are you feeling lonely in Montana?” Mom asked hesitantly.
“I miss you,” I admitted.
My mother lived in Hollister, Texas, a small town not far from Houston.
Once upon a time, I’d had some good friends in Hollister, but I’d screwed that up, too.
