Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
“God, why do you still remember that? I’ve already buried the memory deep in my brain. I’m not even sure that actually happened. For all I know, maybe it was something you and Peter came up with.”
“You know what young kids say today? Denial is a river in Egypt.”
“Young kids? Adrian, there’s really no need to show your age. Just say Gen Z.”
He ignores the jab. “Still an expert at steering conversations, I see. Well, let’s talk about the time you—”
A sudden knock at the door interrupts us. Adrian’s forehead furrows, and he sighs, setting his mug down. “Be right back. Must be one of my employees.”
I smile at him and keep eating, biting a big piece of bacon and absentmindedly listening to his footsteps. He makes a pretty mean breakfast. Yet another thing I admire about him. He can have an early start at work, but he always, always makes sure to have Thomas’s breakfast ready when he wakes up.
The door creaks open, and I wonder if he’ll need to leave for an emergency issue on site. It won’t be the first time it happened.
After he opens the door, there’s silence, which is pretty weird. Did he get out or something? Did the neighborhood kids ring the doorbell and run?
But no. Adrian’s speaking. His voice is low, clipped, and sharp.
I freeze mid-bite and blink slowly. It’s not a tone I’ve heard from him before.
Raw, unfiltered anger. It’s way more menacing than when he confronted the other dad at the game. I can feel his fury all the way from where I’m sitting.
My stomach tightens as I set my fork down, the food suddenly unimportant. Slowly, I rise to my feet, straining to hear. Who’s he talking to? Adrian’s not quick to anger, so there must be a reason.
His voice is firm, unwavering. “You shouldn’t be here, not after all this time. ”
A second voice responds, but it’s too low for me to make out the words.
Adrian again, sharper this time, like he’s trying to keep a lid on his temper. Very unusual for him since he’s one of the most patient men I know. “I don’t care. I stopped giving a damn about you the day you walked out on our son. Get the hell off my porch.”
A chill runs down my spine. Oh my God. It’s her.
I move cautiously toward the hallway, my pulse quickening with every step, taking care not to be seen but close enough to finally make out what they’re both saying.
“I just need money, okay? Then I’ll be out of your hair. If you want me to stay away, just give me a couple of thousand dollars. It’s not like you’re not loaded, and it’s not as if you’re ever short on funds.” Her tone is enough to make me dislike her. Smug, arrogant, and cold. She’s not even asking about Thomas, not begging to see him.
“No. You don’t even bother to send him cards on his birthday or call to let him know you’re still alive.”
She scoffs. “Stop being dramatic, Adrian. You’re the one who wanted a child, not me. Listen, I won’t disrupt your day again, just give me money, and I’ll run so fast you’ll forget I’m here.”
Adrian pauses, and for a moment, I’m scared he’ll give in, that she’ll get her way. But he answers with a firm, “No.”
“I’m going to fight for custody. That’s going to be more expensive, don’t you think?”
“You just said you didn’t have money.”
“Not at the moment, no, but if I really want to be vindictive, I can always find a way to make you suffer.”
Adrian lets out a sound that’s part laugh, part growl. “You want to put our son through all that? Leaving him when he can’t even sit on his own isn’t enough? You’ll go to great lengths to hurt him? Jesus Christ.”
“I told you. Give me money and I’ll be gone. What’s ten thousand to you? It’s just the price of the kid’s day care, I bet.”
“The kid.” Adrian’s voice has taken on an even more dangerous edge. “His name is Tomtom. He’s your son. You don’t refer to him as ‘the kid.’”
“Is that your answer? Because I can go to the cops right now and tell them you’re keeping my kid away from me.”
A beat of silence. And another. And another. I don’t even remember when I stopped breathing, but my palms are sweaty. I’m terrified for Adrian and Thomas.
Adrian has been doing his best to juggle his business and be a full-time father. He didn’t get everything he has now by sitting idly and asking people for money.
When he finally speaks, his tone is flat. “You see this thing by the door? It’s a camera. I’ve just recorded you trying to extort money from me in exchange for staying away. It’s gonna show the kind of mother you are. We’ll see how any judge thinks of that.”