He doesn’t like that reminder. At all. “I have run it for almost twenty years, and I will soon inherit it. And one day, Alexander will, too.”
“Well, your son made it very clear to me that he doesn’t want anything to do with it. So, believe it or not, I’m with him because of who he is, not because I need a green card or your money.”
He pauses, studying me with his unsettlingly familiar eyes. “Miss Walker, you genuinely want me to believe you met my son and thought, ‘this cold, autistic man is exactly what I need?’”
His words feel like a violent blow. Not because of what they imply about me, but because of what they reveal about Lex.
It’s been right in front of me the entire time. His focused interest on certain matters and disinterest in others. His struggle to understand non-verbal cues. His OCPD and repetitive daily routine. His single-minded focus. His food aversions and hatred of some textures. The way he cuts the labels off his T-shirts. Or how he gets overwhelmed when there’s too much activity, like on a plane or in a crowd. Even his aversion to small talk was a huge giveaway.
Lex is on the autism spectrum.
Of course he is.
It was right there, in every aspect of him, but I never figured it out. That makes me an awful girlfriend, doesn’t it? I didn’t notice something so painfully obvious about the man I claim to love more than life itself.
“Listen, Miss Walker,” Mr. Coleman coldly continues. “My wife is very upset about your involvement with our son, and there’s only so much nagging I can take. So, let’s discuss a number that might fix the issue.”
I force myself out of my tumultuous thoughts to ask, “A number?”
“How much money will it take for you to stay away from Alexander?”
“Who do you think you are?” I ask, insulted by his offer.
“A man willing to pay five million dollars for the sake of his family’s wellbeing. That’s a five followed by six zeros, Miss Walker.”
I don’t think I’ve ever met a man as vile as him. In fact, IknowI haven’t. Lex has half his genes and half his mother’s, which makes no sense whatsoever. What miracle happened there for my baby to be the person he is despite starting with such a massive disadvantage?
“You can add as many zeros as you want behind that five, my answer will remain the same: No. That’s an ‘N’ followed by one ‘O,’” I answer with contained anger.
My refusal to cooperate displeases him, and a dark flash passes in his irises. I’ve seen that exact look many times, so I know nothing good will come from it.
“You’re nothing more than another hiccup, Miss Walker. An insignificant inconvenience I have to deal with. Five million is far more than you deserve for tricking my retarded son into a relationship, and if you think you can—”
My hand flies before I can do anything to hold it back. Anger like I never experienced before blinds me, and I don’t realize what I’m doing until pain bites my palm. The loud clap of it colliding into his cheek is deafening—as if echoing in the sudden silence that surrounds us.
Shaking with rage, I stare at Mr. Coleman’s stunned face. “You can make all the assumptions you want about me, you fucking asshole, and can call me a money-hungry whore, or a green card-seeking illegal, but I will not let you call himthat,” I wrathfully utter.
His eyes turn lethal, and that’s when the weight of what I just did hits me. Fuck. I slapped an old man in front of hundreds of people.
Looking at the crowd surrounding us, I’m mortified to see we’re the center of everyone’s attention. When my eyes find Lex’s familiar face staring at me with shock, my heart drops low in my stomach.
I don’t belong here. And never will. These aren’t my people. They’re Lex’s. Why did I ever think I could fit into his world?
Fuck, I don’t even belong with him, do I? I never even realized he was on the spectrum, and it makes me feel like I don’t deserve him. How could I when I don’t know something so fundamental about who he is, at his very core? I don’t know him as well as I claim to, and it feels like a failure.
Tears fill my eyes with shame for both that and what I did in front of such an illustrious crowd. I don’t know what to do or how to salvage this. All I know is I should have never been here to start with.
So when Lex takes a step toward me, I turn around and run away, like a fucking coward. Because what else can I do?
Although I have no idea what the fuck happened, I know Andrea too well to blame her for it. Especially since I also know my father.
That’s why I fist the starched fabric of his dress shirt as I pass him on my way to catch up with her. “Next time I see you within ten feet of her, you’re getting a lot more than a slap, you old cunt. Stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?!” I threateningly groan.
Then I let him go, uninterested in what he might answer, to rush after the most important person in this entire fucking room. I ignore the side looks as I elbow my way through the crowd. We’ve reached the end of the gala, so my way is encumbered by departing guests. And while Andrea is small and can easily slip between them, I struggle to get through.
That’s why I only catch up with her when she’s already in the hotel’s lobby, waiting for her things at the coat check. When she sees me, she tightens her arms in front of her and takes a step back.
“I’m so sorry,” she pleads, on the verge of tears. “I swear I didn’t mean to do it. I promise, but he—”
