Loving With A Heavy Heart Chapter 66


65 A Perfect Night 2


Meanwhile, at the Hayes family house, guests were pouring in for the annual party. Adam had changed out of the casual clothes he had arrived in that morning and into a a pair of black dress pants, a white button up shirt, and a fitted black waistcoat.

He walked around the room in an almost mechanical way as he routinely greeted his relatives and some of the more important guests. As he was making his rounds Adam realized that there were far more females present than there usually were in his parent's circle. Almost half the party seemed to consist of young girls who were only distant relatives or family friends of the invited guests. After speaking to a few of them it became clear to Adam what his mother had done.

Adam let out a sigh, but he didn't go hunting down his mother just yet. He played the role of the perfect son first; finishing his greetings and the mandatory conversations that came with them before finally going off in search of her.

Mrs. Hayes had been in the kitchen checking on the staff and the food, away from the bustle of the party. Just as she was rejoining the party Adam managed to corner her. He stopped her by a far wall, well out of earshot of the guests. As her son approached her, Mrs. Hayes visibly tensed up.

"So, this is your master plan?" Adam asked under his breath as he came to stand beside his mother.

Mrs. Hayes took a sip from the wine glass in her hand. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said pointedly.

"You're a bad liar mother."

"Well what am I supposed to do?" She huffed. "You never let me intervene, you never go on dates. This time you even ended up being gossiped about in some third rate tabloid while in the company of some obscure model. I want to at least see my grandchild before I die."

"We agreed you wouldn't interfere." Adam reminded her.

"That's because I thought you would handle things in your own time."

"And I will."

Adam's mother scoffed. "Every eligible girl in the city is here tonight. Just go have a few conversations. There must be at least one woman in this crowd who meets your strict expectations, whatever they are."

"I'm not interested." Adam said mildly.

His mother looked at him in surprise. Usually he would go along with her just to placate her, or he would scold her. Right now he seemed to be acting strangely. Almost as if he was deflecting.

"You're not actually seeing that model are you?" His mother asked incredulously.

"I'm not seeing anyone." Adam said sternly. "Either way it's none of your business. Don't do something like this again." He warned.

"Fine." Mrs. Hayes muttered into her glass. She was afraid to push any harder than this. Her son was fairly mild mannered but his temper, when set off, was impossible to handle.

Adam was satisfied with his mother's reply and rejoined the party.

Mrs. Hayes kept a careful eye on her son for the rest of the evening but to her disappointment Adam really didn't seem to be interested by any of the young girls. He barely spoke to a single one of them for more than a minute or two.


But as she watched, Mrs. Hayes began to notice that Adam seemed to be distracted. He hid it well, but the repeated checking of his watch and the occasional glance out the window gave him away. It was rare for Adam to be distracted, especially at an event like this which he considered to be akin to work.

Was he waiting for something? Mrs. Hayes wondered curiously.

Meanwhile, Elle had also been distracted from her party. She had run upstairs to quickly get something from her desk, but her task was quickly forgotten as she opened the drawer. Elle looked regretfully at the small black box inside, wrapped in gold ribbon.

Elle had bought the present on a whim, but who knew when she would even be able to see him next? Would she ever be able to pass it along to him?

As if he could hear her thoughts, a text message from Adam suddenly popped up on her phone. Elle smiled as she read the words on her screen. She quickly put the black box into her dress pocket before heading back downstairs.