Page 69 of Tame Me

‘Don’t believe you.’ But I’m quaking inside because I know, IknowI didn’t try hard enough. ‘I sent them to every permutation of your email I could think of. I even sent them to the help desk listed on your company website.’

There were four actual messages sent to multiple addresses. All increasing in urgency. But Istoppedsending them. I tried but then I quit after Lukas’s birth. I gave Dain the shortest of chances. Because he never bothered to reply. I knew he wouldn’t. He told me he wasn’t a commitment kind of guy and I saw for myself that he wasn’t and I decided I didn’t need to chase harder. He wasn’t interested. I don’t want that for my child. I want to protect him. And myself. Because I know rejection. I know just how much ithurts.

Suddenly Dain’s on his haunches in front of me and his tone is colder than the frosty air swirling around us. ‘What’s the baby’s name?’

I stare into his blue eyes and am helpless to do anything but answer. ‘Lukas.’

His indrawn breath is sharp. ‘Spelt how?’

Yeah. Smart question. But I guess it proves that I did go on his company website. I did try to make contact a few times at least. Because Lukas was his grandfather’s name. My throat tightens. ‘You already know—’

‘Humour me,’ he says, too silkily. ‘I think it’s the least you can do.’

‘Lukas. With a K not a C.’

Another sharp breath. ‘And does little Lukas have a middle name?’

Hearing him say Lukas’s name does something to me. I’m suddenly shaking inside—such a sentimental fool. I wanted my son to have a connection to his father even when his father didn’t even want to know him. ‘His full name is Lukas Dain Parrish.’

Dain’s gaze slices through me. ‘Parrish?’

‘That’s my name.’

‘But he’s my child.’

I brace and look right into his angry eyes. ‘Ourchild.’

I’ve already given him two of Dain’s family names. It was for balance and frankly more than generous enough.

The image slides into my head again. The one I hate. I know Dain went straight from that liaison with me into the arms of another woman that night. Whether she was his girlfriend or not I don’t know. I don’t want to. The thought of being the ‘other woman’ sucks. The pictures I saw online that next morning made me feel sick. In fact I felt sick every time I so much as thought of him for weeks after. And I kept thinking of him. Kept feeling sick. Morning sickness, in fact. Because I’m an idiot.

‘You didn’t tell me.’ His rage is less suppressed now.

‘You ignored my messages. Why are you here?’ I ask him again before he can deny getting them again. ‘Why unannounced?’

Is it to startle me? Because if so, it’s certainly worked.

He stands, towering again, embodying the huge, threatening shadow he’s become in my life. ‘You need to come with me,’ he demands.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘We need to talk.’

I’m suddenly furious. Does he think he can ignore my messages and then just turn up? I can’t let him storm in and blow up my life when I’ve come through the worst days after giving birth. When I almost have a sustainable routine going.

‘You’ve had plenty of time to talk to me. You’ve chosen not to.’ I go stone cold inside. ‘I messaged multiple times and you ignored them.’

But the blank denial in his eyes is so real, I falter. He’s shockingly pale. His breathing is uneven. To my eternal horror Iknowthis is all news to him. But I push on because now I’m terrified. ‘Your chance to be involved has been and gone.’

His cool gaze slides over my face and drops to the baby again. ‘Wrong. This is the first I’ve...’

I don’t want to believe him. But I do. And now I feel atrocious.

‘Then why are you in Queenstown if not to see us?’ I whisper.

‘Checking on a project.’

It’s business.

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