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“No thanks to you,” Oliver added gruffly and I nodded my appreciation to the old man for keeping Rosie safe. “She was fine and dandy until you showed up and upset her.”
“Antonio, please.”
“You have ten seconds to get the hell out of this room and out of my sight or I’ll have a judge on the phone within the hour. You are still on probation, aren’t you?”
Outrage flashed in her eyes before she turned her focus to an easier target. Augusta. “What do we have here, Antonio? You got a new girlfriend,” she asked with a laugh. “Banging chubby chicks, now? I told you moving back here was a bad idea.”
Augusta appeared unaffected by her words but the tension in her jaw told me otherwise. I got in Trishelle’s face, towered over her with a scowl. “Better than a strung out junkie who neglects her own flesh and blood. You don’t even care that seeing you is why she’s in the hospital now, do you?”
Her face paled at my words and I knew I hit my target. “How dare you!”
“How dare I what,” I barked out a bitter laugh, “tell the truth? I kept my word to you and I never told anyone why I divorced you, and this is how you repay me? Too bad for you.”
“Antonio,” she whispered in a pleading voice that didn’t affect me at all. “Please.”
“Stop it. Now. Both of you.” Augusta stood between us and nodded towards the door. “Out of this room or it’ll be out of the hospital next.” Her green eyes begged me not to keep this up in front of my daughter and I pointed to the hall for Trishelle and her cameraman.
“Out. Now.”
“Antonio don’t do this. Please.”
“Oh now you want to be reasonable? I guess that means your followers, your fans, the producers don’t know that you OD’d on the sofa while our daughter almost died beside you? They don’t know that the heartbroken mother thing is just an act?”
She turned to the cameraman who had his phone out, recording surreptitiously. “Seriously, Gabe?”
He shrugged. “This is gold and you know it.”
“Gabe,” she squealed.
“This could be great for a redemption arc,” he told her, still filming unapologetically.
She turned back to me with a glare. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because, Trishelle. Because you ambushed me on the street and tried to rope me into your bullshit. Because you did it again, you showed up when you shouldn’t have and upset Rosie. Look where we are and all you’re worried about is your stupid fucking career.”
“It wasn’t me,” she insisted. “That old man wouldn’t let me talk to her. I’m her mother.”
“Only biologically. You lost those rights, remember?”
“You won’t let me forget,” she scoffed, always the victim. It was never her fault, not when she overdosed, not when she screwed up. Never.
“Yet here you are, like you forgot. Again. Maybe you ought to slow down on the drugs.” Her eyes were wide and red and she couldn’t stay still, a clear sign she was still using.
“Maybe you’re here in this shitty little town with your fat girlfriend and you just want to erase me, like I never existed.” Her phony pout left me unmoved.
I leaned in close and got in her face. “Don’t ever come to my town and insult it or the people I care about. The people I love.” The words were out before I could stop them.
Trishelle flicked her hair over her shoulder and scoffed. “Oh please, spare me the fake outrage, you couldn’t wait to get out of this town.”
She wasn’t wrong. At nineteen, I was eager to leave my small town roots behind me. That was then. “This might surprise you, Trishelle, but some people actually grow up. They mature and instead of partying and getting high all the time, they turn into adults with responsibilities and real relationships. They take care of their kids instead of wasting money on designer brands and too much plastic surgery.”
At those last words, she looked to the camera again and sure enough, Gabe had captured it all. “I have not had plastic surgery!” She stomped her feet, a clear sign a tantrum was coming. “I wish I never met you.”
“I wish I could hate you, but I’m glad you left everything that was once good about you, in Rosie. Reality TV can have the rest of you.” I cast one last look at her and sighed. She wasn’t worth my anger or my pity. “Rosie needs me,” I told her and walked off to check on my kid.
She was curled in Augusta’s lap, her little arms wrapped around her as she sniffled. Augusta whispered something in her ear that made her smile through her tears. Rosie smacked a kiss to her cheek and let Augusta dry her tears. “Thank you, Gus.”
