Chapter 26
I watched Billy struggling in my arms outside the restaurant. H small body trembled with an intensity that scared me,
anger and hurt.
his usually sweet face contorted with s
“Let me go!” he screamed, thrashing against my hold. “I want Daddy! You’re keeping me from Daddy!”
careft
His words cut deeper than any knife. Five years of careful explanations, of protecting him from rejection, of being both mother and father – all of it crumbled in the face of Henry’s sudden display of paternal attention.
“Billy, please,” I tried to keep my voice steady, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You’re a bad mommy!” The words exploded from him with such force that I nearly dropped him. “You don’t want me to be with Daddy! I hate you!”
My arms went slack with shock, and Billy seized his chance. He twisted free, his small feet hitting the sidewalk with more force than his body could handle. Before I could reach for him, he stumbled and fell hard on the concrete.
For a moment, everything stopped. Then Billy’s face crumpled, not from physical pain but from something deeper, more primal. His next action happened so fast I barely had time to scream.
He bolted straight into Park Avenue’s rush hour traffic.
My heart stopped as I watched my five–year–old son disappear between the cars, his small figure barely visible among the sea of yellow taxis and black town cars. My legs turned to water beneath me, and I could only manage a desperate cry:
“Billy, watch out for the cars!”
Then Henry was moving, his tall frame cutting through the traffic like an arrow. He scooped Billy up just as a taxi horn blared, the yellow cab swerving around them with inches to spare. The stream of vehicles separated us like a river, leaving me stranded on one side while Henry cradled our son on the other.
“Daddy,” Billy’s voice carried clearly across the chaos, “I was so scared.”
“It’s okay now.” Henry’s response was simple, but the gentleness in his tone made my chest ache.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Billy sniffled, burying his face in Henry’s expensive suit. “I won’t run into the street again. I promise.”
Henry’s hand came up to cup the back of Billy’s head, a gesture so tender it felt like witnessing something private. “Good
boy.”
Billy lifted his tear–stained face from Henry’s shoulder. “Daddy, you saved me like a superhero,” he whispered, his small fingers playing with Henry’s silk tie. “Like those stories about brave knights that Mommy reads to me.”
Something flickered in Henry’s eyes, an emotion I’d never seen before. “Knights, huh?” His voice was unusually gentle. “And what do you know about knights?”
“They protect people they love,” Billy said softly, then added with heartbreaking hope, “Like you protected me just now. Does that mean you love me, Daddy?”
Henry’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then his hand moved to straighten Billy’s collar, a gesture that somehow managed to be both distant and intimate. “You’re my son,” he said simply.
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For Billy, it seemed enough. His face broke into a radiant smile and he Daddy.”
nestled closer into Henry’s arms, “I love you too,
When I walked up to them, Billy wouldn’t look at me. He clung to Henry’s neck, his small fingers white–knuckled in their grip on his father’s collar.
The restaurant’s VIP room felt like another world, all soft lighting and hushed elegance. Billy sat between us, completely absorbed in folding his napkin into increasingly complex shapes. The steel pen Henry had given him lay carefully beside his water glass, treated like a precious treasure.
My hands still trembled slightly as I adjusted my chair. The image of Billy running into traffic played on repeat in my mind, each replay bringing fresh waves of terror and guilt.
“Had enough of your little drama?” Henry’s voice was cold steel wrapped in silk.
I met his gaze across the pristine tablecloth, suddenly too tired for games. “Mr. Harding, I’m not being dramatic. I’m serious about the divorce.”
“Are you now?” His lips curved in that familiar mocking smile. “And how exactly do you plan to survive without the Harding name?”
“I’d rather be homeless than continue begging at your door.” The words came out stronger than I expected. “When was the last time you contributed anything to our marriage besides your name? I’ve been using my own money all these years.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is this about Isabella?”
“No.” I almost laughed at the predictability of his question. “This is about me being tired of pretending. You’re a powerful man, Mr. Harding. You shouldn’t waste time on someone like me.” I forced my voice to remain steady. “Sign the papers, and I’ll pray for your happiness with Miss Scott.”
“Pray for my happiness?” Henry’s eyes darkened. “How considerate of you. And what about Billy’s happiness? Have you
considered that?”
“Don’t.” My voice shook slightly. “Don’t you dare use my son as a weapon. Where was your concern for his happiness all these years? When you missed his birthdays? His first day of school?”
“I provided everything he needed,” Henry’s voice was ice. “A name, a future, security-”
“Everything except a father’s love,” I cut in, my words barely above a whisper. “Tell me, Henry, do you even know his favorite color? His favorite book? What makes him cry at night?
Something flashed across Henry’s face – anger? Pain? – before his mask slipped back into place, “You think Dr. S give him a better life? That he can replace me?”
‘No one’s trying to replace you,” I replied softly. “You’d have to be present to be replaced.”
–
rs can
The waiter arrived with our first course pan–seared foie gras that probably cost more than most people’s weekly grocery budget. The parade of luxury continued: lobster bisque, Wagyu beef tenderloin, truffle risotto, each dish more extravagant than the last. I barely tasted any of it.
Henry watched me over the rim of his wine glass, his expression unreadable. “What’s wrong? The food not to your taste?”
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Chapter 26
His voice dropped to that dangerous whisper I knew so well. “O is it my presence that ruins your appetite? Should we call Dr. Sanders to help?”
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