"Mommy!" He ran toward me, then stopped short when he spotted the car and the man behind me.
Paul turned. His eyes locked onto mine.
Tommy tugged at my sleeve and whispered, "Mommy, that man's looking at you. He's really tall. Is that his big car?"
Cold sweat broke out on my palms. I gripped Tommy's hand tight and forced myself to stay calm. "He's just someone asking for directions. Come on, Tommy, let's go get ice cream."
I pulled Tommy along, trying to circle around the car and head for the bus stop without making eye contact.
"Casey."
His voice was low but penetrating, cutting through the chaotic after-school noise and drilling straight into my ears.
I picked up the pace, practically dragging Tommy into a jog.
"Mommy, slow down, my backpack's gonna fall off..." Tommy mumbled.
Then a pair of long-fingered hands appeared in front of me.
Paul blocked our path.
He stood close—close enough that I could smell that familiar cologne, the scent I used to be addicted to but now made my stomach turn.
"Don't go." His plea came out low, his eyes threaded with red. He hadn't been having an easy time either, apparently.
I stared at him coldly. "Mr. Vincent, I don't think we have anything left to discuss. Move. You're scaring my son."
Paul's gaze dropped to Tommy. In that instant, I saw his body shudder violently.
"Casey, I know you've been avoiding me, but I have to see you." He reached out to grab my arm, then pulled back at the last second. Instead, he shoved the dessert box into my arms.
"It's your favorite—mango crepe. I remember you said the taste could cheer you up."
I looked at the delicate box in my arms and laughed bitterly. Six years ago, trying to save money for prenatal vitamins, I'd stood outside a dessert shop staring at crepes in the window for a full ten minutes. I'd walked out with the cheapest piece of bread instead.
"Casey, give me one chance to explain." His voice dropped lower, carrying a kind of humility I'd never seen in him before. "These six years... I've been searching for you. I regret everything, Casey. Everything I said back then was wrong. The family pressure got to my head, I really—"
"Regret?" I cut him off, voice cold as ice.
The sea breeze whipped my hair across my face. I tucked it behind my ear and looked at him mockingly. "Paul, you think saying you regret it means we can just fast-forward through six years? You think one 'I'm sorry' erases everything?"
"I..." He faltered.
"Six years, Paul. You coming here now isn't an apology. It's you looking for absolution."
Paul's eyes began roaming over me anxiously. "Casey, these years have been hard for you, haven't they?" He seemed to think he was showing sympathy, but all I heard was condescending arrogance.
"Look at where you're living now, your conditions... It doesn't have to be this way. I can help you. I can give Tommy a better education. Hawaii has decent schools, but Boston has the best private resources. I have several vacant properties there, all in the top school districts. Or..."
He paused, his tone growing urgent. "If you want to stay in Hawaii, I can buy you an oceanfront house right now. You won't have to work. Tommy can have the best private doctors and tutors. I can give you everything you want."
As he spoke, his eyes gleamed, as if he believed he was offering the perfect compensation package. I stood there listening to him lay out this "bright future" built entirely on money.
That familiar feeling came rushing back. Six years ago, whether it was what he said to me outside the Four Seasons, or Diana tossing fifty thousand dollars on the café table—in their eyes, I'd always been just another commodity with a price tag.
"Paul." I cut him off coldly. He stopped mid-pitch and looked at me expectantly.
"You haven't changed. Not one bit." I stared into his eyes, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "In your world, money's the magic key that solves everything, right? You think these six years were hard for me just because I couldn't afford a big house or designer clothes?"
