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She gives me the smallest nod, and I release her. She glares at me but lets her arm drop to her side. Her other arm remains pushed against my chest, holding the paperwork in place.

I pull it from her hands and skim it, taking in the words that have fuelled this fury. It’s a demand, in my name, to dispute paternity and a threat, apparently issued by my lawyers, to sue her for slander should she talk about unproven paternity.

This has Pippa written all over it. I’m suddenly unsure if I want to scream at her or just fire her.

“How could you?” Delilah whispers. All her anger is gone, and she sounds broken. The paternity test may be the catalyst for her anger, but I’m sure the hurt is because she thinks I’ve manipulated her, that my words outside Felix’s house were lies.

“I didn’t. I bet this was started by my manager, and I already told her to back off. I have no doubts that Maddie is ours. I wouldn’t have sent you maintenance cheques if I didn’t think she was mine, would I?” I ask.

“I never needed, nor asked, for your money,” Delilah spits, clearly summoning some of the anger from her reserves. She’s flipping from emotion to emotion at breakneck speed, and I glance at her fist again, just in case.

“Money aside, Delilah, I didn’t send this.”

“It’s in your name, Joseph,” she snarls.

How deep is this well of her anger? It dawns on me that maybe she has enough to fuel her arguments for the rest of her life.

“Dee—” I start, but she doesn’t seem to hear me.

“How dare you suggest I was sleeping with anybody else when I was with you. You were the first person I ever had sex with, and you were the only person I had sex with until Maddie was two years old. How dare you suggest there’s a question about paternity, all the while you’re playing the role of a doting daddy in front of Maddie. The fucking audacity of you, Joseph!”

“Listen to me, right now,” I implore. I drop the papers to the floor and use both of my hands to grab hers. She starts to pull away, but I hold her tightly, my big hands wrapped around her small ones. “Maddie is my child. I know that. I’ve never doubted it. I’ve spent the last two years angry as I’ve tried to process what I’ve lost out on, and I wouldn’t have done that if I had doubts that I was her father.”

“What I stole from you, right?” she snipes.

“I realised that spending my time angry about what I’ve lost out on does nothing but bring pain, and it takes away the opportunity I have to have things now. Memories to create and cherish from now on. So, no, I don’t need a paternity test, and no, I’m not playing the role of daddy dearest to win favour. I know she’s my daughter. I want to be in her life, if she’ll have me. If you’ll allow me. And no, you didn’t steal anything from me. I don’t see it that way now. I see that you gifted Maddie a better childhood than we would have provided, even if it cost you everything.”

She doesn’t look convinced. I switch my grasp on her. I let go of one wrist, pulling my mobile out, putting it onto the sideboard in the hallway on the handsfree option, and connecting a call to Pippa before holding Delilah’s wrist again. Her determination to get out of my grasp fades, but she still looks angry.

“Joe, how did it go?” Pippa says as she answers.

“Did you send a demand for paternity testing and a gag order to Delilah?” I snap.

There’s a small silence.

“I told you we needed to verify things before you derail your career on the off-chance that this is genuine.”

“I told you Madeline is my child.”

“If the mother has nothing to hide, it’s just a formality,” she counters.

“I told you to leave Delilah alone.”

“Joseph, it’s my job to get this stuff right for you. I’m not going to apologise for doing what you should have done, to fix the things you’re either too blind or too cowardly to see for yourself,” Pippa states.

“Yeah, I know you’re not the type to apologise, and clearly not the type to listen to me, but hear me now. Madeline is my daughter. Stay the fuck away from Delilah, and me. You’re fired.”

“I’ll speak to you when you’ve calmed down and you’re ready to apologise,” she snaps, and then the line goes dead.

Delilah stares at me. I stop feeling her trying to pull away from me. Instead, everything in her softens.

“You can’t fire her.”

“I can. I never asked for paternity testing, nor have I ever suggested you shouldn’t be allowed to talk about Maddie being my daughter. If it was any other topic and she didn’t listen to me, it would be fine, but not this. I’ve messed up in the past—badly—but I am determined to get things right, and if that means firing somebody for causing this pain in you, so be it.”

There’s another silence between us. I watch her expression as she digests what I’ve just said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.