Noah - 1

"Ah…"

A pleasured groan naturally leaves my throat while I shake my head in pure delight. The rich and creamy taste of my Eggs Benedict perfectly melts in my mouth, the slight lemony flavor of the warm and yolky sauce lingering on my tongue. My hand quickly moves to scoop up another mouthful to satiate my craving for that buttery yet zesty taste. It's absolutely delicious, and one bite of the dish isn't enough to satisfy my taste buds.

I hold my head up and scan my eyes across the round table at the two individuals seated next to me while taking another bite of my brunch. Sitting to my left is my beautiful companion and renowned supermodel, Jenna Dunn. It's difficult to pay attention to anything that comes out of her pretty little mouth when I constantly find myself getting lost in her gorgeous ocean-blue eyes. And when I'm not being captivated by her brilliant blue gaze, my stare tends to get distracted by her heavenly curves which I have the added joy of caressing every night.

Jenna catches me looking at her and flashes a sexy smile at me before lifting the wineglass up to her lips. My bodily excitement begins to stir as I watch her throat slowly swallow every last drop of liquid in the cup. I'm amazed at her ability to make the simple act of drinking wine look incredibly seductive. She's a huge tease without putting in much effort. And even though the tantalizing model might look and act like a proper lady in public because of all the paparazzi that tails her, she's definitely not the same woman when we're alone behind locked doors and between the sheets.

I can't wait to get my hands on her later tonight.

The ends of my lips curve upward into an extremely satisfied smile as I continue indulging in the savory taste of my Eggs Benedict. Fine dining with good company. There's nothing more a man can ask for when everything seems to be going absolutely perfect. Well, almost perfect aside from one small problem.

My head gradually turns over to my right side where I find my young daughter, Taylor, sitting with an utterly bored expression on her face. She's completely uninterested in the words that are coming out of Jenna's mouth in spite of the fact that Jenna is clearly speaking to her. Instead, Taylor looks much more invested in causing as much destruction on her brunch plate as possible. I bitterly grit my teeth as the noisy metallic clang of her fork strikes against her ceramic dish in random intervals.

"Ahem," I loudly utter.

But no matter how much I clear my throat, Taylor won't stop scraping her damn fork against the plate and making a huge mess of her food. The original display and contents of her brunch are hardly recognizable after the way she cut up and tossed around her food like it's some sort of salad. In fact, the meal doesn't even look edible anymore.

Fucking hell.

"Taylor, stop."

The jangling noise of the fork and plate finally stops after my grim warning comes out. But the unexpectedly loud and irritated tone of my voice causes both Jenna and Taylor to look over at me.

"Is something wrong, Noah?" the blonde model asks with a startled look on her face.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just trying to get Taylor to stop playing with her food," I plainly state with a hint of frustration in my tone while my eyes remain fixated on her. However, the girl simply lifts her gaze up toward me for a brief second before lowering it back down onto her sloppy dish. She clearly acknowledges the disruptive nature of her actions and misbehavior. There just isn't a shred of remorse in her empty expression.

"Kids will be kids," Jenna heartily laughs. "We'll just have the waiter bring her a new meal. It's not a big deal. Anyway, I was thinking we could spend a week in the Caribbean to soak up the sun and then stop by Paris after for fashion week. Wouldn't that be fun for all of us?" she exclaims with an excited smile.

Before I have a chance to answer Jenna's question, my phone starts to vibrate and ring in my pocket. I pull the cell phone out and into my hand and almost immediately feel my spirit and mood dampen as I read the phone number displayed across the screen. It's another work call from the company which can only mean one thing. They need me.

I shake my head and sigh, "Sorry, give me a moment to answer this."

My footsteps carry me away from the table and outside the doors of our private dining room. But as soon as I pick up the call, I already know what it is that I have to do. My secretary doesn't have to tell me twice in that panicked voice of hers that she needs me to show up to the event that wasn't originally on my agenda in the first place. After all, I know how beneficial it is for the company to have the CEO show up and leave a lasting impression on any potential business partners that were invited. I wouldn't be where I am today if I didn't network my ass off and make small sacrifices here and there to solidify my position as the CEO of Bishop Inc.

The stories of my self-built success are what attract people to me. But the demonstration of my dedication and charm is what ultimately seals the deal in regard to people's belief and confidence in me. Though I'm honestly not too worried about winning over the crowd at the event because appealing to the masses is something that I'm used to doing in my line of work. It's breaking the news to Taylor that I'm most troubled with at the moment.

I slowly step back into the room and close the door behind me. Even though a few minutes have passed since I took the urgent phone call, the scene inside the dining room is hardly any different from when I first left it. I might even have to argue that the mood seems a lot more somber than it was before considering how indifferent Taylor appears to look while Jenna eagerly outlines the vacation plans to her.

My reappearance through the doorway and steady approach eventually catches the model's attention as she turns toward me to ask: "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. It's just that some work event suddenly came up, and I have to go over there right now to handle some business-"

"Again?" Taylor abruptly interrupts me without bothering to look up from her plate. A flash of disappointment spreads across her lips in the form of a heavy frown. I can see her try her best to hide her unhappiness from me, but the noisy sound of the silverware is resumed as she begins fidgeting with her fork and plate again. This is exactly what I was afraid of.

I nod my head with an exhale, "Yes. Again."

There's nothing but dead silence from the little girl after hearing my response. She doesn't even try to make an attempt to say anything else despite her obvious displeasure with me. She just maintains her stoic expression while she shuffles and plays with the food on her dish. But I don't have the right to get angry at her because it's no surprise that she would have this sort of negative reaction to my news. Taylor always becomes rather despondent and closed off when she hears that I have to leave her again.

Shit.

How many broken promises has it been already? Five? Eight? Maybe even more than that? I honestly lost count after the first few times, and I can't remember for the life of me when I last kept a promise with her. Constantly seeing that disappointed expression on Taylor's face makes me feel like a huge failure as a parent. I shouldn't be used to witnessing it from a young kid like her on a regular basis, yet her forlorn appearance is something I partially expect when I end up making a promise with her that I know I might not be able to keep.

There's no argument to be said. I know I'm a shitty dad. I've known this as a fact since Elizabeth died.

A sinking feeling quickly builds in the pit of my stomach as I watch my only daughter poorly conceal her sorrow. It's times like this when I can't help but wonder how different things would be if my late wife was still alive. If Elizabeth was here, would Taylor still be making that cheerless and gloomy face? Or would she be able to help our daughter understand that the reason why her father is never around is because he's working hard for the sake of the family? Elizabeth was the only person who could bring Taylor joy and happiness in the midst of bad news. But now that she's gone, I haven't seen a genuine smile on my little girl's face since then.

God, Elizabeth. I wish you were here to tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do because I haven't the slightest clue at all.

The growing awkward tension between me and Taylor forces Jenna to finally speak up. "Don't worry about us, Noah. You go ahead and handle your business. Taylor and I will have a fun girl's day out together." The blonde gets up from her seat and places her hands on Taylor's shoulder. "We can shop, get our hair done, and maybe watch a movie or something? It'll be fun!"

All I need is to take one glance over at Taylor to know that the energy and enthusiasm in Jenna's voice in regard to her seemingly "fun" plans isn't going to be shared or mutual. That kid has never shown any hint or signs of acceptance in any of the women that I've previously dated and Jenna is no different. But I have no choice but to leave my daughter in the supermodel's care for now. It's much better for Taylor to spend some time with actual people instead of leaving her alone in that huge house all by herself.

She has to move on in life. She can't keep living in the past.

My heavy footsteps gradually approach Taylor who still has her head lowered down toward the plate. She won't look up at me even though I'm standing right in front of her, so I put my hand on top of her head and comb my fingers through her long brown locks. Her hair has gotten much longer from when I last brushed it for her, the length of her tresses almost identical to Elizabeth's right before she passed on. I wonder if that's why it's so difficult for me to deal with her sometimes. She resembles her mother way too much for my heart to bear.

"I promise I'll be back later, Taylor. Be good while I'm gone, okay?" I softly speak as I gently pet her on the head. It pains me to disappoint her like this again because I can tell just from touching her head how much she doesn't want me to leave. However, selfishness isn't a quality that Taylor possesses in spite of her age. And it's no surprise that Elizabeth was the one who shaped her into that selfless type of child.

My hands continue to caress Taylor's head for a while until she finally lifts her face up toward me and nods. "Yeah, okay," she answers in that small, childlike voice of hers. But as soon as the light brown hue of her irises meet my eyes, an overwhelming sensation of guilt instantly fills me. It's the first time she's properly looked at me all day, and the reluctant expression in her stare which is clearly telling me "don't go" wasn't the look I wanted to see before taking my leave.

Ugh. How can I not feel guilty when she looks at me that way with those sad eyes?

A heavy and stifling feeling hangs over my head and shoulders as I force myself to smile at her. One of us has to stay strong after everything that has happened, and I don't expect a 6-year old girl to be the one to do it. I place my hands around Taylor's face and give her a firm kiss on the forehead before walking away and out the door. I can feel my throat closing up with every subsequent step I take further and further away from her.

I'm sorry, Taylor -- sorry that I have to do this to you again.

But no matter how much time seems to pass, it doesn't feel like the goodbyes, the apologies, and the constant displays of disappointment are getting any easier to accept. It's been two years and I still don't feel completely all right or okay with the fate that I've been dealt. Not even with the countless warm bodies that have shared my cold bed since Elizabeth's departure from the world. I'm just a shell of the man I was before, an empty robot who functions purely on natural instinct and survival.

Honestly, Elizabeth would definitely scold me if she saw the pathetic state and rut that I'm currently stuck in. Her strong brown gaze would show me no mercy for maintaining such a weak appearance in her absence. I can already hear her voice in my head telling me to get my shit together for Taylor's sake. So I'll do just that. I'll keep on moving forward with my head held high no matter how much it hurts.

Taylor is all I have left now, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect her. Even if it means bringing her pain in the process. She won't understand my decisions now, but she'll learn to appreciate them when she's older. After all, everything I do, I do it for her -- I do it completely with her in mind.