I’m a father.
And my little Firefly never told me.
Joy, confusion, regret, fear, and anger are a heady mix swirling inside me.
“What are you going to do?” Leo asks.
I exhale heavily. That’s the million-dollar question. And I don’t have the answer yet, except for one overriding conviction. “Protect them.” Shaking the fog from my brain, I stride toward the car, jumping in the back seat. Leo slides in beside me.
“Change of plans,” I supply, looking at Alessandro through the mirror. I point across the street at the sleek silver Mercedes Saskia and Rowan are getting into it. “Follow that car.”
16
SIERRA
Iam going to murder Serena with my bare hands for this, I think as I drive up the driveway of Saskia and Felix’s plush home. What the hell was she thinking asking Saskia to pick Rowan up? If there was an emergency and she couldn’t pick up my son, she should’ve called me, and I would have asked Pen or Esme to drop by the school. Ordinarily, Dion could have kept him until I arrived, but he’s finishing work early today because he’s flying to New York with some of his buddies for their friend Abe’s bachelor party.
Rowan doesn’t like Saskia, and it’s not because of anything I have said. I would never do that. No, my son is astute, and he has picked up on the vibes she emits. Or maybe it’s the short, impatient way she speaks to him during the rare occasions we attend Sunday dinner at my parents’ house that has rubbed him the wrong way.
Father ignored me the entire way through my pregnancy—it was bliss—but as soon as I gave birth, his tune changed. I still don’t know why. It’s not like he pays Rowan much attention, and for the most part, when I visit, he ignores me, which suits me fine.
I only make the effort for Mom’s sake and for my son.
My family is the only family Rowan is likely to know, and I won’t deprive him of a loving Grandma, or his cousins. So, I suffer my father and Saskia in small doses to ensure my son doesn’t miss out. It’s a small price to pay, I remind myself as I park and stomp up the steps to Saskia’s front door. I ring the bell, chewing on the inside of my mouth as I wait for the door to open.
“Mommy!” Rowan rushes me the second I step foot in the kitchen, clinging to my legs.
Mrs. Smith, the housekeeper, smiles warmly at him as she packs up his pencil case, stowing it and his books in his backpack.
“Hey, Firecracker.” I kneel, pulling him into a hug. The instant his small arms wrap around me, a deep sense of contentment washes over me. I was excited to be a mom, but I couldn’t have predicted how much I would adore it.
Or maybe it’s all down to Rowan.
Because he is the most amazing child and he has brightened my world in ways I could never have imagined. From the second he was born, I was high on the most intense love drug. My heart swelled to bursting point the first time I looked at him, and it hasn’t deflated any time since.
Rowan is my greatest achievement. The most precious person in my life. The main reason I wake up happy each day. I would go to the ends of the Earth and back to ensure he is safe, happy, and healthy. I truly adore being his mother, and I’m so blessed I get to share my life with him in it. He is my pride and joy. My happy place. My everything.
I dot kisses all over his cute face until the strain eases from his gaze. “Ready to go home?”
He bobs his head. “Can you carry me?” he asks, and my heart aches. Rowan is fiercely independent, and while he is also hugely affectionate, it’s not like him to want to be carried in the middle of the day. That’s how I know he was feeling vulnerable here. I don’t blame him. This house may have been highlighted in celebrity magazines, but it’s a show home. There is nothing warm or inviting about it.
I can’t even get mad at my sister for dumping my son in the kitchen with her staff because at least Mrs. Smith is kind, and she looks like she enjoyed his company.
Saskia and Felix never had kids, and they have given up trying.
The world is a better place for it, if you ask me.
Rowan wraps his legs around my waist, and I hold him close as I stand. Mrs. Smith walks with us to the car, carrying his backpack. Saskia is nowhere to be seen, and I’m glad because I’m not sure I could restrain myself, and I hate losing my temper in front of my son.
“What do you say to Mrs. Smith?” I ask Rowan as I strap him into his car seat.
“Thank you for looking after me,” he sings, giving her a big goofy smile.
“You’re very welcome.” She sets his backpack down on the floor of the back seat. “You take care, Master Rowan.”
He giggles, and I mess up his hair. “Love you, Firecracker,” I say, kissing his brow.
“Love you too, Mommy.”
