“Yeah. I was wondering—”
“Can I call you back? It’s really not a good time.”
A man’s voice spoke in the background. Her asshole ex was there. What the fuck was he doing there at this time of night? It couldn’t be anything good.
The rational part of his brain knew it was nothing untoward. He and Clare were together, she hated her ex with a passion, and rightfully so. She’d never take him back, not after the level of betrayal he’d inflicted upon her.
They’d both been burned by cheating exes—he knew without a second thought that she would never do that to him.
But a piece of him, a growing, angry, vibrating part of his heart wondered what that asshole needed to talk to her about that was so important that she dismissed Elliott to tend to. He rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand.
What the fuck did he have to do to be someone’s priority for a goddamn change?
Clare
Clare had always thought that being a teenage mother with no friends in high school was the hardest moment of her life. However, watching Mason throw his belongings into a suitcase late at night while his asshole dad stood in the corner with a smirk on his face was, in fact, the hardest moment of her life.
Her heart was slowly splintering inside her body, and as much as she wanted to cry, she didn’t want to guilt Mason into staying. He’d made his choice. And while it tore her apart, she didn’t want him to feel bad for it, for leaving her.
He needed to find his own path and making him feel like shit for owning his tough AF decision would be a dick move. A Sperm Donor move.
She wasn’t lowering herself to his level, nor was she going to hurt her child, no matter how much she, herself, was hurting.
Instead, she jerked up the elastic of her big girl panties with a snap, and helped her baby put his prized possessions in the bag.
“We can bring the rest over another time. But for now, just take what you need right away, okay?”
His sad eyes met hers as he nodded. “Sure, Mom. Thanks.”
“Why don’t you go downstairs and pack up some of your games?”
He left without a word, leaving Clare and The Sperm Donor to pack in silence. As she tucked his favorite Pokémon stuffy into the suitcase, The Sperm Donor grunted. “You know this probably wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t fucking around with the hockey coach, right?”
She wasn’t going to rise to his bait. Ignoring him, she folded a sweater and placed it into the case.
“I know you’re dating him. Mase said as much. Are you fucking him? It’s been a while hasn’t it? I bet you’re fucking him.”
Was that what this was about? The fact that she was finally getting some? Good. Let it bug the fuck out of him that she’d found someone who wasn’t afraid to bend her over the back of the couch and give her a good fucking from time to time.
“It’s not okay, Clare. Needing me to step up and help out with our son because you’re too busy fucking some deadbeat to be his mother. It’s not okay, you hear me? I won’t stand for it anymore. I’m done. I’m drawing a line.”
Huh. And just what exactly would he do about it? Folding her arms, she narrowed her eyes at him, glaring. “Are you threatening me?”
His brows twitched, but his face didn’t give anything away. “I’m simply saying that Mason moving in with me is just the beginning. And that if you’re continually too busy with your boyfriend to take care of your son, perhaps I should file for sole custody.”
Her jaw dropped open for a split second before she composed herself. Would he really declare all-out war over the fact that she was moving on with her life? That she was happy with someone else?
“You cheated on me, remember? You left me. For your secretary no less, like a cliché from a goddamn fucking movie. So what is this? You don’t want me so no one else can have me?” She deliberately kept her voice low so Mason wouldn’t hear her tearing his father a new asshole.
He grunted again and turned his attention back to packing. “We’ll see who wins.”
“And that’s it, right there.” She jabbed an accusing finger his direction. “This isn’t a game to me. This is my life, my son. I’ll do what’s best for him. Not what wins me the most points.” She couldn’t bear the sight of his smug fucking face for a moment longer.
She charged down the stairs, stomping on each one as she descended, it was childish, but she didn’t give a shit. It was her house. Sure, it was falling down around her ears, but it was something no one could take away from her, no matter how hard they tried. She found Mason in the kitchen with an over heaped spoonful of ice cream mid-way to his mouth and a sheepish grin on his face.
“Want a bite?”
She shook her head. She needed something stronger, something much stronger, but she only had a bottle of wine in the house. What she wouldn’t give for some raspberry and Limoncello cocktails and a couple of baskets of mozzarella sticks about now.
