I grab their bags out of the trunk before crouching down to give them the biggest, tightest hugs. I take a moment to whisper to both of them, “Call me, okay? You need anything, you call me.”
Ginny’s confidence has fizzled in the face of the strange situation, her eyes big and watery. “You’ll come get us, Momma? If we want to come home?”
I squeeze my eyes shut at the bittersweet moment, loving that she already thinks of the new house as home but hating that she’s feeling even a little bit of insecurity. “In a heartbeat,” I promise.
I turn to Mase. “Look after your sister,” I request quietly, very much aware of the two adults hovering beside us. “I know you guys bug each other sometimes, but look after her tonight.”
“I will,” he vows solemnly, shooting a dark glare at his father. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, baby. Both of you.” I give them one last squeeze, and then they’re gone, slamming the car door behind them as they get into Christopher’s back seat. I slowly stand, turning to face them, finding him shooting Angelica a death glare like she’s the problem here.
“What the fuck?” I demand. “Are you actually fucking kidding me? Why is she here?”
Angelica has the balls to look offended. “Hey, you don’t?—”
“Shut up!” Christopher yells. “Go wait in the car, like I told you to do.” She buttons her lip, looking thoroughly shocked, but scampers off.
I watch her go, shaking my head. “Never thought you’d go after someone so young,” I mutter. “And to actually knock her up.”
It’s like I’ve dropped a bomb right in the middle of us. “How do you know that?” he says forcefully. “How do you know about…” He goes a little green, and I step back, worried he’s about to lose the contents of his stomach. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I know you must have a PI or something, given you’ve found every-fucking-thing.” He sounds a little bitter, and I hide my amusement, loving the way the power has shifted between us. He never expected that I would ever fight back against him, just taking every single little indignity that he laid at my door. And now he’s sulking like a toddler who’s been caught sneaking cookies.
“I’m not with her,” he tells me a little desperately. “It’s not my baby. I got a vasectomy, remember?”
“They aren’t foolproof, obviously.”
“It’s not mine,” he insists. “She won’t agree to a paternity test until the baby is born, but?—”
“But I don’t give a shit about that.” My voice is cold enough to freeze, and he stares at me like I’m a stranger. “I care that she’s here when you’re picking up our children. What the hell were you thinking?”
Christopher pushes two shaking hands through his hair, the carefully styled blond strands going up on end. “She… She… Fuck, I don’t even know, Lynnie.” He sends me the most pitiful glance. “She keeps turning up, talking about the future and how we’re together now. The lawyer said I need to keep her onside until we know if the baby is actually mine or not.” He glances at the car, sweat dotting hishairline. “She showed up this morning, but I told her I had plans. I asked her to leave, but her car wasn’t working, so she asked for a ride.” He grimaces, turning his back to the vehicle and stepping in front of me, blocking my view. “It was too late to drop her off first, but I told her to stay in the car. To stay out of it.” He reaches out like he might grab my hands, but I pull mine away, shooting him a scowl. “She’s not anything to me, Lynnie. You need to know that.”
“Pretty sure I just told you I don’t care.”
His jaw goes slack. “I don’t get this at all. You’re not acting like the woman I married, Lynnie. You’re not even willing to try to work on us?”
“You killed that woman when you cheated on me. Repeatedly.” I shake my head. “Christopher, you were fucking my sister. How do you not get how wrong that is?”
His mouth twists, his expression turning ugly. “It was just sex, Lynley,” he snaps. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even like Caroline. You need to let it go. I married you, didn’t I? I gave you a good life. You’re throwing everything away over a few meaningless orgasms. You need to grow up and start living in the real world, where people make mistakes.”
“Grow up?” I repeat curiously, my brows lifting. “Okay, sure.” He blinks rapidly, looking unsure, but I don’t look away. “I’m guessing you haven’t told your parents.”
“I was waiting…” He trails off, but I hear what he doesn’t say.For you to change your mind.
“Mm, thought so.” I clasp my hands together, a cool smile tipping my lips up. “I’ll make you a deal,” I say pleasantly. “You give up complete custody of the kids. They can visit you when—or if—they want to, but you will no longer have any rights to them.”
He goes still, eyes narrowing. “Why would I do that?” he asks curiously, and it’s another damning sign. Any of therighteous anger he should have at losing access to his kids is missing, but I’m not even surprised at this point. The man I married ten years ago was obviously a carefully constructed mask. I could probably spend years pulling apart every detail of my life, trying to figure out how he managed to fool me for so long, but I won’t.
None of this is my fault, and sometimes, you only see what you want to see when you love somebody.
“If you don’t, I tell your parents everything. I show them every shred of evidence I have, including all the videos and the money you’ve been squirreling away. I’ll tell them about your relationship with Caroline, and how you allowed yourself to be blackmailed into supporting her and her husband.” With every word, he’s losing a little more color in his face. “I’m sure they’d be really interested to know about your pregnant little friend over there, and how she was an intern at the firm. And your boss’s niece,” I add as an afterthought, before finally adding the last nail to his coffin. “And then I’ll tell them about how you lost your job.”
The silence that falls between us is thick with tension as Christopher’s pulse thuds frantically in his neck. I don’t blink, letting him see the resolve in my stare. After a drawn-out minute, he’s the one who looks away, throat bobbing on a swallow.
“You won’t get child support if you do this.”
A soft sigh escapes, knowing he still doesn’t get it. “Christopher, I don’t want a damn thing from you. The sooner you realize this, the better off we’ll all be.”
He looks doubtful, but he nods. “You’ll let me control the narrative with my parents,” he confirms.
