I swallow. “I’m not sure what you’re doing but he’s your son. I’m a lot younger than you and I don’t know everythingyouknow, but I’m going to have a child soon. And I know that I’ll love her. In fact, I already do. I already want to hold her in my arms and protect her from everything.” I cradle my belly where she’s sleeping. “I already know that I want to give her her every wish, every dream, every little hope. I want to know every beat of her heart. I want to ease every little breath she takes. I want to do that for her. Every parent wants to do that for their child, Mr. Jackson. And yes, we’re not perfect and we make mistakes and there are times when our children hate us but that doesn’t mean that we ever stop loving them or wanting what’s best for them. So that’s what I’m asking you, Mr. Jackson. I’m asking you to give your son what he wants. I know that you know that working at your company is not what Reed wants, and I know that you forced him into it. Because of me. Because of what I did. But it’s been two years now and I want you to find it in your heart to let him out. You can punish me if you want. But please let him go.”
“Okay.”
He doesn’t even think about it. He says it as soon as I finish what I wanted to say. And somehow I know that he’s bluffing. He’s completely bluffing.
He thinks I’m sweet and naïve, and I might be but I’m notthatnaïve.
So I insert steel in my voice when I say, “You will let him go.”
It’s not a question at all.
But he answers me anyway. “Yes. I will. You’ve made an excellent point here. So I’ll let my son go and do what he wants to do, whatever that might be. Dreams are important to me. That’s how I built this company. You have a dream too, don’t you?”
"Yeah,” I tell him hesitantly.
“Juilliard. Very ambitious,” he murmurs. “I told this to my son too. But if you need any help, I’d be happy to be of assistance. I know quite many people there. And you’re family, aren’t you?”
I don’t care about Juilliard right now. I don’t.
Even though his words are filling me with dread.
“So you’re going to let him go?”
“Yes. In fact, this will be his last job. The job I gave him today.”
“Job.”
“Yes, to sieze this lovely garage for me.”
My heart thunders in my chest at his words.
Halo moves in my belly again. Just like she was doing this morning, restless and angry and agitated.
Through all the chaos happening inside my body, I ask him, “What garage?”
And when he answers me, I know.
I knowhe’sthe real villain.
He’s the real evil, the real threat, the real danger.
Reed’s father.
I sit there on the couch long after the call is done, my bones shaking. My breaths scattered.
It feels like an age.
Exactly like the night we had that fight and he made me promise that I’d never fall for him because he’d only break my heart.
The night I realized that I’d already fallen.
And exactly like that night, I hear the tires screeching in the driveway when he comes back. The sound of his Mustang door banging shut, his footsteps bounding up the porch stairs.
Tonight though, I haven’t locked the door.
I haven’t barricaded myself or erected barriers. Or walls.
I’m cut open and vulnerable as he enters through the door, carrying my favorite ice cream in a brown bag in his arms and I rise from the couch.
