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I peer in just in time to see her scramble to a sitting position. She fumbles with her nightgown, and I wonder if maybe she started exposing herself when she thought it was only Hayes coming to visit.
“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” she has the nerve to ask.
“Don’t you ever call me that again. Don’t you ever pretend there was ever anything normal about any of this.”
“What are you talking about? What did he tell you? You told me yourself. He can’t be trusted. He’s unstable.”
“That’s not what I said, and you know it. He was behaving in an unstable manner, and now I know why. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, Christine. You’ve done well at hiding who you really are, but you weren’t smart enough to keep the evidence from being uploaded to the cloud.”
She looks around wildly, like she’s searching for an excuse, and finally her gaze falls on me. “You wretched little shit. What have you done?”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Hayes warns. “Somehow, even with a mother like you, she ended up being a better person than you could ever be.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of you do.”
Mr. Ambrose barks out a laugh. “I know what I saw. I want you out of that bed and out of this house. I’m turning you in, Christine.”
There it is. I was waiting for it. That horrified victim face she’s pulling. “I’m your wife! I’m going to be the mother of your child!”
“Are you sure about that?” he counters. “Because I’m not. You announced to me over the weekend that you’re pregnant and raised that big stink over wanting to be married before the baby comes. You’ve never offered proof you’re pregnant—and now, even if there is a baby, I have to wonder if the child is mine. Who else have you been with when I was out of town?”
“Nobody! I’m going to have your child. I would never lie about that.”
Hayes steps forward. “Are you sure it’s not mine?”
Oh, my God, it keeps getting worse. I think it can’t, but then it does. No wonder he freaked when she said she was pregnant.
Her mouth falls open, her eyes as big as saucers. Her head snaps back and forth between Hayes and his father. “I—I mean—”
Mr. Ambrose shakes his head. “Maybe you’d better hope it was a scam. Get dressed. We’re going to the police station.”
“No, please. Please, it won’t happen again. I’ll do anything it takes. Let me make it up to you. Let me make you happy. You know how happy we’ve been.”
“It was a lie, all of it. And if you were on fire, I wouldn’t spit on you.”
Her gaze falls on me and she pivots to a new strategy. “My babies. What about the girls? What’s going to happen to them?”
“Already taken care of. They’ll be better off without you.” He makes a big deal of checking his watch. “Either you get out of that bed and get dressed, or I call the cops and have them pick you up at the front door. We can do this quietly, or we can do it the hard way. But we are doing it.”
I can’t stand to be in this room anymore. I go out to the hall, leaning against the wall, fighting for every breath. My mother. I hate her, she sickens me. She’s never been a decent mother. Not a role model, none of it. Just the same, my heart feels heavy.
Hayes meets me out there. “Are you okay?”
“Me? Are you okay?”
“No, but I might get there, eventually.” He flashes a sweet, vulnerable smile, and my heart skips a beat. In the end, this was all it mattered. Making sure he’s safe from her.
His dad steps out next. “We’re going down to the station. You don’t have to come.”
“I don’t think I want to,” I admit. “I’ll stay with Lucy.”
“Good idea. She’s lucky to have a sister like you.”
I give Hayes as much of a smile as I can manage before heading down the hall. He’s got his dad taking care of him. I don’t have to worry.
Lucy’s fast asleep, lucky kid. Now that it’s all over, or at least my part of it, I can’t stop shaking. Even though we’re safe, I know it’s not going to be easy. Hopefully she’s young enough that none of the kids she’ll meet will have any idea who she comes from, but I can’t avoid that. Word’s going to get around. Hayes is still more important, so I don’t regret coming forward.
That doesn’t mean I feel very confident as I lift the blanket on Lucy’s bed and snuggle in next to her. The way we used to when she’d have a nightmare, back when we were at the hotel. “Everything is going to be fine,” I whisper, holding her tight before closing my eyes.
