“Ivy?”
“I can explain.”
Chapter 10
Damien
Her little apartment is as exactly as we left it when we enter it again. But so much has changed, hasn’t it? I have a son. A son. The weight of it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, but I have reckoned with enough to understand that Ivy and I made a son that fateful night.I’ve been saving myself for you. I’m on the pill.All lies. She lied to me for how many years? Seven? Eight?
Ivy lowers Lake onto the floor. Lake gawks at me and I him. I can’t help it. After the initial recognition, I want to look at him again to confirm what I feel to be true and once again I see those same Sinclair features my brother and I have. The jet black hair. The thick eyelashes. The cheekbones, that at his age look awkward, but he will sure grow into. There is some of Ivy in there as well, no doubt. The green eyes being the most prominent gift she gave him and that cute innocence she wears so well.
She wears it now along with… fear? If it’s my wrath she’s afraid of, then be very afraid Poison Ivy.
Lake tugs his mother’s skirt while staring at me. She bends down. “Who is that man and why is he here?” he says in a too-loud whisper. Ivy warily glances at me. “He’s a friend.”
I want to punch a wall.
“Honey. Can you go to your room? I need to talk to him.”
“Now? But you were gone the whole day?”
“I know, sweetie. How about I give you this?” She snatches an iPad that was lying on the couch. “One hour of your favorite games?” Lake beams and jumps. He runs to his bedroom and almost stumbles on his way there.
Ivy’s smile fades when she turns to face me.
“Friend?”
“I can’t exactly tell him you’re his father out of nowhere, can I?”
“So it’s true. Why did you hide him from me?”
She crosses her arms. “I sent you multiple requests asking to talk to you and you rejected me. Time and time again. Hiding is the last thing I did.”
“Yeah. That’s why you didn’t tell me Lake is my son. Why you pretended you had a boyfriend? You came begging for a marriage and not once did you mention you might have a son with me.”
“That’s because the last time I came to your workplace and your home heavily pregnant, you turned me away!”
“I did no such thing.” The mere thought of me doing such a thing makes no sense. No. She has to be lying.
She shakes her head. She’s the vile one who took time away from me and my child. Time I could have spent with him. Knowing him. Loving him. She stole all of that away. She’s not just poison, she’s malicious.
“Of course you’ve forgotten. I was nothing to you, just like you said, so of course you don’t remember the day I came to your office asking to see you. I waited for hours and when you finally came out, you passed out a note to your assistant.” She scoffs. “Funny how I kept that piece of paper. Part of me knew this day would come.”
“What are you talking about?”
She runs to her bedroom and a few minutes later she returns with an old-looking piece of stationery. I recognize it instantly.It’s a paper from the earliest version of a notepad my company used to have. I snatch it from her hand. It’s yellow, worn and has water stains on it, but the words written on it are clear.
“If you dare proclaim that bastard you carry in your womb is mine, I will do everything in my power to take that child away from you and you’ll never see him again. This is your first and last warning. I never want to talk to you. Hear from you or see you ever again. This is my last warning. If I see you again, I am pressing charges.”
It’s written in my handwriting. Or what looks to be my handwriting, because I’ve never so much as written these words. I don’t have a fallible memory, but I’m sure I would remember writing something like this.
“I even dared to go to your apartment, but the concierge had express orders from you to not let me in. I don’t know what I was thinking. Despite my anger, I tried to give you the opportunity to take responsibility. Instead, you blocked my number and barred me from your work and your home. I had no one.” Her voice cracks. “I was all alone. My father threw me out of the house to punish me and threatened to disinherit anyone in my family who would help me. I was all alone, and you sent me that!” Tears are streaming down her cheeks. “And you dare claim that I stole your child? Fuck you, Damien Sinclair.”
She’s crying in earnest now and that irrational part of me wants to take her in my arms and tell her everything is okay. Say anything to stop those tears from falling. But I can’t. Because what she’s saying makes no sense.
“I didn’t write this.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know, I used to have a crush on you. I used to steal anything of yours that I could come in contact with. Back when you used to work at Hawthorne, I would visit Nolan, not because I cared about him, but because I wanted to see youand if I couldn’t, I would take anything of yours. Pens, clips, notes. I would look at your handwriting for…” she closes her eyes as if she can’t believe what she’s saying, “hours. And if there’s one person who can spot your loopy S in the wild. It’s me.” Her voice turns to steel. “That is your handwriting. You wrote that note. And don’t you dare lie to me?”
