Page 96 of Get Me to the Starting Line
There was no way he could spin his decision to walk out on me after the pregnancy test came back positive. He broke the spell when he left, and I’ve never given him enough power to try to get me back.
Especially not after he slapped me when I dared suggest he was a horrible person for walking out on his child.
Never again.
He had the audacity to try to claim fathership last year when I was in the hospital after a drunk driver hit my car. Levi was fine, but I suffered some major injuries. The hospital called Ian, and he met Levi while I was on the operating table.
Thankfully I have Paige in my corner, though she doesn’t quite know the extent of his abuse. But she stuck up for me and Levi and told the hospital she’d sue them if Ian left with Levi.
And now he’s here. Aftermywork andmyson.
“Ian is a bioengineer as well. We met in undergrad.” My voice is still so shaky.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Julien reassures me.
“I want to,” I whisper.
“I’m here for you,” he says softly.
“We hit it off right away and started dating. I’d never had a serious boyfriend before, and he was—well, he was my first.” I hope he catches my meaning. Ian was my first sexual partner. First and only.
I haven’t been with anyone since he left us, a fact I’m acutely aware of right now.
“Once we were in the same PhD program, I started noticing little things. He would get possessive of my work if I was doing well. Offering me help—making me think I needed him so his name could go on my paper. And his name was listed first because we considered ourselves equal partners, and his name came first alphabetically.” I roll my eyes, even though it still stings that he got most of the credit for my early work.
“Finally, a female supervisor saw what’d been happening and put a stop to it. She tried to get me to fight to remove his name from my past publications, but at that point we were engaged and I didn’t want to upset him. He was going to be my husband. What was mine was his.”
Julien’s arms tighten around me, and I’m not sure if it’s to comfort me or as a reaction to my history with Ian.
“I can see the pattern now—when I was successful or on the path to success, he would dote on me like the best partner ever, a truly perfect man. But when things stalled or life wasn’t going our way, he would distance himself, postpone the wedding.”
Heaviness weighs me down as I let out a long breath. It still hurts sometimes to think about how weak I was. How could I not have seen it? But years of therapy kick in and I do not blame myself. It was all I knew at the time, and he had wormed his way into every facet of my thinking.
What would Ian think? What would Ian do? Would Ian be mad? I hope this makes Ian happy. Every thought, every decision surrounded him.
“It’s not surprising he’s sniffing around now.”
I push back a little so I can see Julien’s face. He loosens his arms but doesn’t let me get far.
Taking a deep breath in, I explain, “This project ... Well, it’s huge. The applications across the board in this field is quite vast. I’ve already been approached by companies wanting to buy it from me. It’s ... It’s worth a lot.”
“Money can be poisonous,” he says, nodding like he understands. And I think he might. I have a rough idea what he makes as the top NHL goalie. While it’s not as much as athletes make in other sports, millions per year is still a lot.
“Ian is obsessed with money and fame in our academic circle. His research was always subpar, and he was jealous I ‘got lucky’ morethan him. He took credit for ‘inspiring me,’ saying things like, ‘You wouldn’t have anything without me.’ He could never admit that I was better than him.”
Julien shakes his head. “What a weak man.”
My chest purrs. Ian is a master of manipulation, and people so rarely see him for what he really is.
“There was an article in a scientific journal about my research and this project. It outlined how much I was being offered and how much I could make off of the licensing deal, which is what I’m leaning towards. But the offers to buy the patent have been leaked.”
Julien nods, not bothering to ask me how much. So many zeroes have crossed my desk I don’t even know if I have an answer.
“He wants your money.”
“Yes, and likely wants to try to get his name on it somehow.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Julien says automatically.
