He and his wife were separated. They hadn’t shared a bed in years. He tried to tell her how he felt, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be free. They were basically divorced.
And I ate it up like I was starving.
On some level I was. Starved for attention. Affection. Someone who would be in my corner. Someone I could count on. Something to distract me from how much I missed my mom.
But William was never any of those things. He was just using me. Not for a single second did he want us to be more. A reality that became abundantly clear when I told him I was pregnant.
“I wish I could do that, Ruth.” Bill sighs, the sound manufactured and dramatic. “But a littlebirdytold me you’re trying to fuck me over. All it takes is a DNA test and I’m another politician with an illegitimate child. How do you think my base will like that?”
“They’ll like it a lot more than they’d like knowing you paid me to have an abortion.” I know the words are a mistake the second they’re out of my mouth, but it’s too late to take them back.
“You fucking bitch.” He laughs bitterly. “I knew I couldn’t trust you to move along and keep my name out of your mouth.” He pulls in a deep breath, blowing it out against the microphone. “So I guess the next best option for me is to take you to court. Claim you're unfit and get custody of my beloved baby girl.”
The room starts to spin as my vision narrows and spots dance in front of my eyes. “I will die before I let you take my daughter.”
William clicks his tongue. “I suppose that could be arranged too.” His voice lowers. “Be careful what you wish for, Ruth. It just might come true.”
The line goes dead.
My hands are shaking as I fumble my cell away from my ear, accidentally dropping it as I sink to the floor, my legs unable to continue supporting my weight.
What am I going to do? I thought moving across the country would show William I’m not a threat to him. Prove I’m genuinely not interested in anyone ever knowing we were once entangled. I didn’t tell anyone. Not my friends. Not my coworkers. No one but Tucker.
I didn’t put his name on the birth certificate, choosing to claim I was artificially inseminated so no one would ask questions. Because I have exactly as much interest in him being a part of Birdie’s life as he has in his constituents finding out what a hypocrite he is.
So why won’t he leave me alone? Why won’t he put this behind him the way I’m trying to put it behind me?
I swipe at my face with the back of one hand, doing my best to wipe away the tears tracking down my cheeks as I wobble myself upright. I manage to check all the windows and doors, ensuring no one can easily get in. But at the end of the day, if William wants to make me disappear, I don’t doubt he has that ability.
And that terrifies me. I know how devastating it was to lose my mother as an adult. I can’t imagine what it would be like for Birdie if something happened to me now. If I was taken from her before she got a chance to remember me. Before she could bank years of unconditional love to carry with her through life.
As I pass the kitchen, the acrid smell of burnt popcorn assaults my nose, but I ignore it because that’s the least of my problems right now. Reaching the living room, I crouch down to retrieve my phone from where I dropped it earlier, checking the screen to make sure it didn’t crack.
It didn’t, but I feel no relief at that because I now have three missed calls from the same number William used.
This time, I can’t fight my stomach’s revolt. I race to the half bath on the main floor, emptying the meager amount of wine in my stomach as I try to think straight. But panic and fear are making that impossible, and they send me sinking to the floor, back against the wall literally and metaphorically as I try to think of what I can do to keep Birdie safe.
Honestly, there’s only one answer.
There’s only one person in this world I trust. Only one person in this world I can count on. There’s nothing he can do for me now, but maybe hearing his voice will help me get it together.
I wipe the snot from my face and the tears from my eyes, then call the man I miss so much it hurts.
It doesn’t even seem like the line rings before it connects. Tucker’s deep, rich voice is a balm and a vice as it reaches my ears. It soothes me while squeezing the fear I’m fighting until I’m ready to explode. Which is why, instead of coherently explaining to him what’s going on, I sob, embarrassed and exhausted and afraid.
“What’s wrong?” Tucker’s voice has hardened. It’s louder. Almost dangerous.
“William.” I manage to get his name out. “He called. Knows where I am.” I swallow down the urge to throw up again. “He threatened me.”
Tucker curses, his breathing labored. “Are you safe right now?”
I crawl to the door of the bathroom, peering around my silent townhome. “I think so.”
“Is Birdie safe?” His words are choppy, but there’s no missing the fear they carry.
“She’s upstairs asleep.” Even as I say it, dread settles in my belly, moving me on my hands and knees to where the monitor sits so I can peer at her tiny sleeping form. “She’s safe.”
Tucker lets out a long breath. “Are all your doors locked?”
