Things I didn’t look at too closely.
And she knew that.
“You don’t get to stand here and act surprised now,” she continued. “Not when you benefited from everything I kept in order.”
My hand moved before I could think. I punched her in the face, hard.
The crack echoed through the room.
Her head snapped to the side as the glass shattered from her grip and hit the floor.
She stayed still for a second before she slowly turned her head back toward me.
She smiled. That was the part that made it worse.
“You mad at me?” she said softly, “or you mad at yourself?”
I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the chair. “Don’t test me.”
She laughed under her breath even as I pushed her back.
“You finally want to be a father now? He doesn’t need you.”
The words cut deeper than anything else she’d said.
“You should’ve been one when it mattered.”
My fist connected again.
This time harder.
She hit the ground.
I stood over her, chest rising and falling.
She didn’t cry.
Didn’t beg.
Just looked up at me with that same twisted calm.
“You think hurting me fixes it?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
My voice was low.
Cold.
“But it starts something. I want you out of here.”
She wiped the blood from her mouth slowly.
“You don’t have control anymore, Devon.”
She said my name, like I was already beneath her.
“Your son made that clear, and so did your own brother.”
