“Thanks.”
He shifted awkwardly, but then cleared his throat. “Could we… could he and I still have hockey Sundays together?”
Anger snapped inside me at his words as I folded my arms and glared at him. “You have no right. He was never yours. Everyone knows that. Your name is not on the birth certificate. Jake is mine, and if you think to go to court about him—”
He raised his hand, stopping my rant. “Vi, that wasn't what I meant.” He exhaled heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “He is not my son. I know that and he knows that. But… I’m a stability in his life. Who is gonna go to those games with him? You? No offense to women, but sons usually hang out with dads.” He leaned against the wall, his eyes on Jake. “Plus, I got used to it as well. I’m asking you to not take it away from us.”
But that was the point, wasn't it? Those moments weren’t his to have. Every time he had spent time with Jake, I felt as if I’d stolen those moments from Radmir; they rightfully belonged to him. Even Jake’s love for hockey… my Russian loved it too. It was a big sport in Russia, and he had dreams of teaching his son how to skate and for him to play professionally if the child was interested.
Instead, Alex was the one who experienced it, and I hated it with all my being.
Alex and I had a complicated relationship, to say the least.
Alex had a secret, and I kept it well while he provided much-needed protection for my son and me. The Jordan family name wouldn’t have survived the news that their only son had certain sexual needs. Alex didn’t share much with me either, just that it took a lot of people to satisfy him. Whatever the hell that meant.
He never tried to touch me. The marriage was platonic; we’d even signed a contract. He had sex with other people constantly and didn’t mind me having an affair, not that I ever wanted one. Jake knew Alex wasn't his daddy; he called him Uncle Alex. I didn't think he understood his mommy was married to him, since we never acted like a couple.
It turned out Alex had a good explanation for being an ass to me back then, but he was nothing but polite ever since. If it were only about him, I would have flipped him off and told him to get lost. After all, his help didn't come for free. But he was right, Jake needed those Sundays, and with Radmir out of the picture, it wasn't like he was here to enjoy it.
“Only Sundays, Alex.”
Relief and gratitude shone in his eyes as he nodded. “Thank you. If you ever need anything—”
Yeah, right. Was he kidding me?
“I’ll never ask you.”
He gritted his teeth and left, waving to Jake who waved back and then turned back to his cartoon, dismissing Alex all together.
The one thing I learned during my pregnancy with Jake, as my world was falling apart, was to never expect help for free.
There would always be a price to pay.
“Would you like something to drink, miss, before we take off?” the steward asked politely, offering a tray with all kinds of drinks.
Although my family was loaded, Dad didn't believe in spoiling his kids with first-class tickets. He would often travel that way, but we were always in economy class, and usually since he made last minute arrangements, we ended up with bad seats somewhere in the middle, squished between other passengers. My sister used to bitch about it, but I didn't care. Folks were always nice, and I had the opportunity to snap several photos for my collections. Not to mention, it gave me a much-needed break from my mother’s constant nagging or my father’s scorn for daring to have an opinion.
But since I was in first class anyway, why not take advantage of all the luxuries? Burying deeper into a comfortable wide, leather seat, I said, “Champagne, please.” It seemed appropriate to celebrate this big escape and forget for a while about my house.
The attendant put the napkin on the seat-back tray and then the glass, along with some nuts on the side. Then with a polite smile, she left to tend to the other passengers. Leaning back in my seat, I sipped the drink while watching from the window how the airport staff kept putting luggage inside the plane.
A bag suddenly dropped on the seat beside me, startling me, and I almost spilled my drink.
What the hell?
I opened my mouth to give whomever a piece of my mind, when my eyes grew wide at the stranger.
It was that Dominic guy from the hallway!
Un-freaking-believable.
If his snarl and bored expression were anything to go by, he wasn’t happy about finding me next to his seat either. “Well, hello.” How freaking lame must I look?
He just shook his head, and then replied, “Hi, again. Don’t worry.” He chuckled, clearly amused about something. A man passed by him, saluting him as two more signaled to him from the back. How many of them were there? “We won’t spend much time together,” he assured me, then shouted, “Radmir, I’m gonna take your seat.” Then he moved away and sat down a few rows in front of me, dismissing me all together.
Blinking a few times at his hostility, I got that he probably didn't like me, but geez, changing his seat? My brows furrowed, but I didn't have much time to dwell on it as Radmir showed up.
And my breath hitched once again.
