Page 22 of Ruthless Serenade

"I can’t do this alone, Maron," she whispers hoarsely. "I’m not strong enough.” She pauses. "You know what? Screw it," she mutters, reaching for the vodka. "If this is how it ends, so be it. Your pills should do the trick. I’ve already swallowed a handful of your precious Tramoxine." With those words, she raises the bottle to her mouth and gulps down the liquid.

My fucking heart seizes in my chest and a cold sweat breaks out on my skin. Tramoxine and alcohol are a deadly combination and Eva is aware of that.

"Eva, stop this shit!" I roar, lunging forward to grab her wrists and to pry the bottle from her grasp. "Don’t you fucking dare!"

But she’s not listening. "Let me go, Maron!" she screams, jumping away from me. Her voice is high and hysterical. "I’ll do it, I swear to God, I’ll do it!"

My hand snaps out and I manage to grab her forearm, but she is relentless, her desperation fueling her strength as she fights back. The bottle falls to the floor, splashing the liquid across the polished wood. With a final wrenching twist, I allow her to break free from my grip. Tears stream down her face as she backs away from me, her eyes wide and haunted.

"I loved you, Maron," she sobs, her words barely intelligible through her tears. "I would have done anything for you. But if I can’t have you, then I don’t want to live."

Before I can form a coherent response, she turns and flees the room. All I hear is her anguished cries echoing down the hallway. I stand there, my chest heaving, my mind reeling from the chaos of the last few minutes.

Motherfucker.

This is not good. A hysterical ex possibly carrying my offspring and using it to manipulate me is never good. I should have just kept my dick in my pants instead of fucking her for two years. Or at least I should have been more careful.

But then again, what if she’s lying? She’s crazy enough to make this up and use it to wiggle her way back into my life.

Whatever the case, I’m going to have to find out the truth.

Chapter Nine

Mindy

I sneak a glance at Sharon as we drive through the busy streets of New York.

She’s quietly sitting in the back seat, staring out the window, deep in thought. I know my daughter well and it’s clear that something’s bothering her. Except sometimes, she won’t tell me what it is. She’s always been closed off about her feelings, and it makes me wonder if it’s because of her selective mutism. Her body language is screaming tension: hunched shoulders and clenched hands. My mind is going crazy with worry about what happened today, how she must be hurting.

I suck in a deep breath and plaster a grin on my face. "Listen, honey bunny," I chirp, trying to sound cheerful and not like I'm about to pull out my own hair. "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat!"

Sharon’s eyes light up like Christmas morning. "Before dinner?"

"Let’s go wild today, baby. What do you say, huh?"

She giggles. "Can we get chocolate, Mommy?"

The tension in my chest eases at her enthusiasm. Ice cream always does the job when I want to cheer her up. It’s one of the best tricks I have up my sleeve. Too bad I can’t use it all the time.

"You know it, sweetpea. Chocolate overload it is."

I pull up to Scoops & Smiles, our favorite ice cream joint. I'm eagerly bouncing on my toes as we head toward the shop, hoping this sweet treat will make Sharon feel better and take her mind off her rough school day.

The ice cream parlor is bright and colorful, with candy-colored walls and a display case filled with a wide variety of different flavors. Sharon grabs onto my hand as we make our way inside, her small body jumping with anticipation. As we get closer to the counter, her eyes light up at the sight of all the delicious options.

"Mommy, look!" she squeals, pointing at each one and trying to read off their wacky names like Chunky Monkey Business and Scoop-a-Dooby-Doo.

I can't help but laugh along with her. "Seriously, who comes up with these names? Rocky Road Rage? Berrylicious Brain Freeze?"

Sharon's face is beaming with joy. She seems like she completely forgot about whatever was troubling her before. Her eyes are glued to the sight before her, like she just found a secret tunnel to Charlie’s Chocolate Factory.

"Which one can I have, Mommy?" She asks with such innocent enthusiasm that I almost melt into a puddle.

"You can pick whatever, Sweetie," I say, getting down to her level. “I’ll get something else and you can try out mine too, okay?"

Sharon’s smile could light up a dark room. "Really? Thank you, Mommy!" She wraps her arms around my neck in a hug.I hold onto her tightly, cherishing every second of the precious moment.

Minutes later, as Sharon and I are sitting in a cozy booth savoring our ice cream, I'm reminded of a funny story from my childhood. "Did I ever tell you how Auntie Emily and I fooled everybody around us in school?" I ask with a mischievous grin spreading across my face.

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