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HELEN
There was a knock at my door. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who it was. After Brenton had left with his “stuff” this morning, I spent the rest of the day packing my things back up and emptying my stomach into the toilet. I wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy or the betrayal that had me hurling. Probably a bit of both.
I also spent some of my time scouring those damn journals again, hoping there was something in them that hinted at how I could stop my family from getting ahold of this house without stealing Brenton’s patent. It was a last ditch effort to at least piece one part of my life back together. I knew I wasn’t going to steal Brenton’s idea, and frankly, I didn’t want this house anyway. I just wanted the inheritance to help me care for this child, but it seemed I wasn’t going to get it. Dudley’s journal contained nothing useful about stopping my family from getting ahold of the house either. I sighed in denial and frustration.
When he knocked, I debated not opening the door. He didn’t deserve the time of day after all we’d been through. I decided to let him in if only to curse him out one last time before leaving.
“Helen,” he said the moment I turned the knob.
“What do you want now? Have any other lies to spew at me? Any more children to tell me about?”
“He’s not mine. I promise you.”
“Right.”
“I mean it. This was all just a huge misunderstanding. Sabrina was just aiming for me to pay her child support.”
“So you’re telling me you have two crazy exes who are trying to get child support from you?”
“I know how it sounds, but—”
“It sounds like the blame is never on you. It sounds like you can’t be trusted.”
I watched his face fall and his hands make fists at his side.
“I can be trusted. I told you about my two children. Not as soon as I should have, but I told you everything. Now I’m telling you again, Brian is not my kid.”
“You’re doing a lot of telling. Why don’t you try your hand at listening? I have zero trust for you after everything you’ve lied about. Zero.”
The conversation halted as Brenton racked his brain for the right words to say. I waited, desperately wanting to hear him say something that could make me trust him again, that could make me want to share this child with him. I knew those words didn’t exist.
“Helen, you have to believe me.”
“Why on earth would I believe you?”
“Because I have enough children,” he tried to make light of the situation. “I don’t need anymore.”
His joke fell flat. It rested at the bottom of my newly pregnant belly and made me nauseous all over again. I had pretty much already made up my mind to leave upon Sabrina entering my home, but this blow solidified my plan.
“Get out,” I told him, turning my back and storming into the kitchen where I still had some packing to do. Instead of leaving, he followed me.
“Helen, wait.”
I walked to the other side of the room, letting the island separate us. I couldn’t let him touch me. One taste of our heat, and I might be begging on my knees for him again. I wasn’t going to let that happen this time.
Brenton looked down at the open leather journal on the island.
“What’s this?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Before I could reach over and grab it, Brenton picked it up, sifting through the worn yellow pages.
“Did Dudley write this?”
My face had gone pale white. I gulped and nodded. It was the second half of the journal, the one that detailed most of Dudley’s plan to steal TruFruit’s patent.
“To you?” He asked, continuing to scour it.
