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Blood drains from my face. He’s right. I didn’t think about that—I’ve been paying the rent, and Jean-Pierre left us alone. There was no reason to revise the lease or find somewhere else to live. When he moved out, I was relieved to not have to uproot Ava.
“I have to get to the office,” I say. “You have to get out.”
“You’re the boss. You make the rules. Stay a little longer. Let’s talk.”
“I’m not interested, Jean-Pierre,” I say.
He’s starting to get angry. His eyes blaze, and the charming smile is gone. I back away from him, into the kitchen. I don’t want to be trapped in the small entrance with him when he’s like this.
“That’s all you keep saying. You’re notinterested. You won’t even talk to me. I don’t know you to be so unreasonable.”
“I know what I want,” I say. “And I don’t want you. I don’t want us.”
“So, you think you can keep Ava away from me just because you’re full of shit?” he cries out. He raises his voice, and I flinch. I hate when he starts shouting. The inevitable always follows—he starts throwing things around, punching holes in doors, and breaking plates. He’s never hurt either me or Ava, but his outbursts are scary, nevertheless.
“I can do what is right for my daughter,” I say.
“She’s as much mine as she is yours.”
“You met her when she was two. And you’ve never been there for her, Jean-Pierre. You’re not her father.”
“Don’t you dare say that!” He grabs a kitchen chair and throws it. It flies by me, narrowly misses me, and clatters on the floor. “I’m her father for all intents and purposes. You can’t replace me!”
“Stop it, Jean-Pierre,” I try, but he slams a fist into the new fridge I bought after he left, leaving a dent. “If you break my things, I’ll—”
“What?” he asks and flips over the kitchen table. “What will you do, Raven? You can’t doanything. I’m still Ava’s emergency contact. I’m on all her forms as her next of kin contact. Or have you forgotten how much you needed me once upon a time? Say it, Raven. I’m her father.”
I shake my head. Jean-Pierre comes closer. He grabs my wrist.
“You’re hurting me,” I say in a strangled voice, trying to keep calm. He’s not doing anything too crazy. Nothing’s broken. But it’s the first time he’s put his hands on me.
“Say it,” he demands again. “I’m her father.”
I shake my head. Jean-Pierre looks enraged, and for a moment, I’m sure he’s going to lose his shit.
“What’s going on here?” a familiar voice says, and Jean-Pierre lets go of me, spinning around.
“Who the fuck are you?” He snaps.
When I see him, he’s like an apparition. His cheeks are red, his blond hair a mess, but his blue eyes are bright.
“Noah?” I ask, hoping to God I’m not just seeing things.
“Who the fuck is Noah?” Jean-Pierre demands. “And what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”
“Your apartment?” Noah asks. He glances at me, unsure.
I shake my head.
“I’m her boyfriend.”
“You’re not,” I say.
“Who areyou?” Jean-Pierre sneers at Noah.
“I’m Ava’s father,” Noah answers.
All the air sucks out of the room. I can’t breathe. Jean-Pierre looks like he’s been hit square in the face.
