Chapter 112
“Henry? Is everything alright she asked, injecting concern into her voice.
Fine, he answered mechanically, still focused on his phone.
“The croissants look delicious,” she tried again, reaching for the paper bag. “Won’t you join me?”
Henry nodded absent–mindedly, his thoughts obviously occupied with Sophia and this mysterious Harper Davis. Isabella’s attempts at conversation failed as he responded with noncommtal grunts.
After nearly an hour, Henry suddenly stood up.
“I need to go,” he announced, gathering his jacket.
Isabella’s face fell. “So soon? But the doctor hasn’t even made his morning rounds yet.”
“I’ll send Nancy to stay with you,” he promised, already heading for the door. “I have some important matters to attend to.”
Inside Maple Grove.
I discovered Billy had called Henry.
My initial irritation quickly transformed into anger–not directed at my son, but at the situation. Of course, Henry had spent the night with Isabella. Where else would he be?
“Billy, why did you call your father?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady while cracking eggs into a bowl for breakfast.
Billy’s small shoulders tensed. “I just wanted to talk to Dad,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on the table.
I could tell there was more to it, but the hurt in my son’s eyes stopped me from questioning further. Whatever happened during that call had upset him.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he suddenly said, his voice. trembling slightly. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
The genuine remorse in his expression immediately melted my anger. Putting down the whisk, I moved to kneel beside his
chair.
“I’m not angry with you, darling,” I assured him, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “I’m angry with myself. L shouldn’t have raised my voice.”
Billy nodded, but the wounded expression remained. My heart ached as I realized he was caught in this complex situation -parents fighting for divorce, leaving the child in an impossible position.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. Im making your favorite–French toast with extra
cinnamon.
The mention of his favorite breakfast brought a small smile to his face. “Yes, thank you.”
I returned to the counter to continue preparing breakfast, my back to Billy, struggling to maintain composure. The thought that Henry’s absence was affecting Billy so deeply made my chest tight with guilt and anger.
1/3
Chapter 112
Billy quietly slipped from his chair and into the hallway, carefully extracting his father’s business card from his pocket- the one with the private number Henry had given him.
Hiding behind a large potted plant, Billy dialed, his small face set with determination.
“Henry answered immediately. “Billy? What’s wrong?”
“Dad, Billy began, his voice deliberately trembling. “That lady who answered your phone earlier was mean to me.”
“What lady?” Henry’s voice sharpened.
“The one who said she lows you. She said you’ll never love Mommy,” Billy continued, his performance flawless. “She said mean things about me too.”
Henry’s silence spoke volumes.
“She called me a little brat‘ and said you’re always complaining about having to take care of me,” Billy now slightly embellished. “Is she telling the truth, Dad? Don’t you want me??
“Billy, that’s not-” Henry began, clearly caught off guard by this revelation.
“It doesn’t matter,” Billy interrupted him, his voice carrying a maturity beyond his years. “You prefer that mean woman to Mommy anyway. I don’t want to like you anymore either! Forget I called!”
He hung up before Henry could respond.
Henry stared at his phone, troubled by his son’s accusations. Isabella answering his phone? Saying such things to Billy? It seemed unlikely, but what reason would a five–year–old have to fabricate such elaborate lies?
He checked his call history, finding nothing from Billy earlier that morning. This was strange–had Billy called from another phone? Or had someone deleted the record?
With growing suspicion, Henry gathered his things and headed for the door, ignoring Isabella’s protests.
“Henry, you can’t just leave like this!” Isabella cried out, her voice rising with desperation. “The doctor said I shouldn’t be alone!”
“Nancy will be here soon,” he replied flatly. “I have important matters to attend to.”
Isabella watched him leave, her concerned expression transforming into fury the moment the door closed behind him.
“That bitch, she hissed, her delicate fingers curling into claws against the hospital sheets. “Sophia, you worthless whore. Why do you insist on fighting me for my man?”
She grabbed the water glass from her bedside table and hurled it across the room, glass shattering everywhere.
“He’s mine,” she whispered to the empty room. “He has always been mine. I will destroy anyone who tries to tal
n from
me.”
