“I love you!” he wailed, the sound sickeningly desperate. “I love you, Lena! I love Emma! I love Ethan! They are my blood! I’m their father! You can’t take them away from me! You can’t take the house!”
“You didn’t even know their names until you watched the broadcast just now, did you?” I asked quietly.
The silence on the other end of the line was his damning confession. He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t cared.
“Lena, please,” he whimpered, abandoning all dignity. “I’ll leave my mother. I’ll come back to you right now. We can be a family. You, me, and the babies. With the Apex fund, we can rule this city! Just call the bank. Stop the foreclosure. Please, I’m begging you on my knees!”
I closed my eyes, remembering the searing pain of my C-section. I remembered the terror of the fire, the smoke burning my lungs as I carried strangers to safety, knowing that if I died, my babies would be orphans because their father was a coward.
“Do you remember what you said to me before you walked out of that hospital room?” I asked, my voice dropping to a deadly, icy whisper.
“Lena, don’t…”
“You said that life wasn’t for you,” I repeated, enunciating every syllable with crystal clarity. “You said my children were an inconvenience to your future. You looked me in the eye, bleeding in a hospital bed, and you said you needed space.”
