Page 17 of Mistaken Intention

He lives in New York and as far as I know, he has done all his life. I’m intrigued by how he’s going to respond to his precious daughter moving away. I imagine he’ll do everything he can to stop her. That’s the kind of man he is. He’s all about power, and he’s good at wielding it.

“I’ve got no idea. We’re not talking.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. You remember me saying how badly he reacted when I told him I was pregnant?”

“Of course, although you never said why.”

She shakes her head. “Because he didn’t give me a logical explanation. He just flew into a rage. I wondered if it was something to do with my mother. She died giving birth, and I thought maybe he was worried the same thing was gonna happen to me.”

“You don’t think that would have made him concerned, rather than angry?”

“Probably.”

“Did you try talking to him?”

“He wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. Even when I told him Drew could provide for us, and that it wasn’t gonna cost him a dime…” Her voice falters and she swallows hard.

“Surely when Maisie was born, though…”

She sighs. “I know,” she says. “I hoped he’d come around then. Although why I thought he’d change his mind, I don’t know. You remember how stubborn he is? Still, I sent him a picture of her, and text messages asking him to call.”

“And did he?”

“No. I—I’m still waiting to hear from him.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “It’s his loss. He’s the one who’s missing out.” Her words sound good, but I can tell he’s hurt her.

That’s something else he excels at… hurting people.

Maisie finishes her milk and Lexi puts the bottle on the table in front of us, sitting up slightly. As she does, her daughter lets out an enormous belch, and we both laugh, which helps lighten the oppressive atmosphere a little.

Thank God…

Maisie had her bath a while ago, and then Lexi took her into the guest bedroom so she could have some quiet time, before she put her down to sleep in the travel crib. It’s a little tight on space in there, but she reassured me it would be fine, and I left her to it.

“She’s gone to sleep at last,” she says, coming out and closing the door quietly behind her.

I’m putting the finishing touches to our dinner, which is just a simple salad, made from roasted butternut squash, apples, pecans and cranberries, served with mixed leaves and feta cheese, and an orange vinaigrette. After Lexi’s call last night, I spent ages trying to decide what to serve, knowing from experience that she adheres to a strict diet, limits her proteins and carbs, and although she’s not a vegetarian, might as well be. I look up as I put the salad bowl on the breakfast bar, alongside the dishes, wine glasses and silverware.

“The travel crib was really simple to put together. Did you buy that just to come here? Or do you use it at Drew’s place?”

She sits down and I copy her, pushing the salad bowl in her direction and watching as she helps herself to a small portion. “No, Maisie has a fully equipped nursery in Newport.”

“So you bought the crib just to come here?”

She blushes as I dish up my salad, taking considerably more than she did. “No. I have friends I sometimes stay over with, and once or twice we’ve slept at Manuel’s place.”

“Oh.”

She picks up her fork, but then puts it straight back down again and turns to me. “I know this isn’t ideal, but nothing in this situation is ideal, is it?” she says.

“No.” It certainly isn’t… not when I’m in love with Maisie’s father. I turn away to hide my blushes. “I’m not judging you, Lexi.”

“Good… because I didn’t ask for this any more than Drew did. And if I’m being honest, I think we’re doing okay. As dysfunctional families go, I think we’re better than most… and before you say anything, I know most of that is down to Drew. He’s an amazing father.”

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