TO LOVE HIM AGAIN:THE BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET CHILD

Sera's POV

"Shh, baby." I rock my wailing son in my arms, my own tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

His cry is piercing, and doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He's been crying all morning, and I don't know why.

"Sweetheart," I murmur in his ears. "Tell mommy what's wrong. Are you hurting?"

Ezra's response is a louder cry. Tears trickle down my own cheeks, and I swipe it angrily.

"You're okay, sweetheart. You're okay." I don't know if I'm telling myself or I'm telling him.

A knock on my door sounds, and I'm glad to see Owen walk through. He takes one look at both of us with tears falling from our eyes, and he laughs.

"When you told me there was an emergency, I didn't know it was two!" 

I roll my eyes and shove Ezra into Owen's arms. He immediately stops crying, and my jaw drops.

I sniffle. "He hates me, doesn't he?"

"Of course not, Sera," Owen replies. "You're both having a bad day."

"What does he know about bad days? He's only four."

Owen grins. "I used to have bad days even in the womb...at least that's what my mom used to say."

Ezra hiccups, whimpering in the crook of Owen's neck. 

"Go take a shower, Sera. You look horrible."

I grimace. "Way to make a girl feel special."

He raises a brow.

"I can't, though," I explain. "I have to submit this article to Wendy before six p.m. today."

"Damn," he whistles, glancing at the digital clock on my desk. "It's already past three. Have you even started?"

"No," I say. "I tried but Ezra kept crying. I gave him food, he said he wasn't hurting anywhere. His temperature is fine, he..."

"Hey, it's okay," Owen cuts in. "He's fine now, look."

Sure enough, Ezra's playing with the collar of Owen's shirt, little hiccups leave his lips. 

I run a hand through his thick dark hair. "Hi baby."

His grip tightens on Ezra's shirt and I sigh, taking a step back.

"Thank you, Owen," I breathe. "Thank you for always coming when I need you. Now, I'm just going to work on this in my room."

I pick up my laptop and soda.

Owen waves at me. "We'll be here."

It's a huge relief to be left alone for a bit.  My reflection catches in the mirror when I step into my room, and my jaw drops in horror.

Blood-shot eyes, brown hair up in a tangled mess, and cheeks flushed. I look like I went through hell... and was spat out.

My clothes are strewn across the room, the sheets in a pool on the floor. The relief disappears, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

Don't cry, Sera. Not again.

I place my laptop on the desk and stare at the blank page, fingers hovering. 

Nothing comes to my mind. No word, no topic... nothing. I'm just blank.

Working as a junior copywriter for Q's magazine has been