Page 144 of Blue Gold

You see my body every day… when you fuck me, you love it, right? You always tell me I’m so pretty.

Elliot said that himself, and thinking about it formed a knot in my stomach. I placed down the magazine, as there was nothing that would help me written in it anyway. At this pace, I’d never find him. I still hoped the PI would come back with something useful, but if not, and things came to it, I’d search the whole of France myself until I found Elliot.

The sound of a phone ringing pierced through the quiet space, and I looked around in search of it. The room being a complete mess didn’t help in finding it. I checked under the documents scattered on the coffee table, when I remembered I’d left my phone in the kitchen. Going over there, I picked it up right at the last ring, hopeful it was the PI calling to tell me he’d found Elliot.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” I said for the third time with an apologetic smile.

Maya’s teacher didn’t seem to care about any of my excuses for being late and shot me a disapproving look. I completely deserved it, because if it weren’t for her call informing me Maya was waiting to be picked up, I would have forgotten it was my turn to take her from daycare.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she scolded me—again—before walking back inside the school.

Looking to my right, I found Maya waiting quietly. With a cute little frown, she also seemed upset, so I crouched in front of her.

“I’m sorry for being late, sweetheart.” I stroked her chubby cheek when she pouted.

Just like her mother.

“You forgot me.”

My face fell. “Of course not… Daddy was just busy at work.”

She gave me an unimpressed look before averting her stare.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

She glanced at me, eyes narrowed. “I want to go to the park.”

“At this hour?” I checked my watch. “It’s a bit late⁠—”

“Yes.”

Well…

“Okay, then.”

Taking her backpack from her, I hung it over my shoulder, then offered her my hand. “Shall we?”

At last, she smiled at me, then took my hand.

On our way to the park, Maya told me about everything that had happened to her today. About which friends she played with, what book they read in class, and what she ate for lunch. I wondered if Elliot ate today, too. And was his day okay? Or did he spend it thinking negative thoughts⁠—

“Daddy!”

Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked down at an angry-looking Maya.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Her little face scrunched up. “You’re not listening.”

I offered her a polite smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking about⁠—”

“Work.”

What was a bigger sign that I failed as a parent, if not my six-year-old calling me out?

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll listen from now on.”

Squinting her eyes, she seemed skeptical for a mere moment until she decided I was forgiven and went back to her story. This time, I made sure to stay focused and listen to every word until we reached the park. As soon as we got there, she pointed over at a flower bed before running toward it. I followed her, watching as she looked at all the flowers with a child’s admiration, when I noticed the lavender.