Page 66 of Tempted By Eden

Chapter thirty-four

Cora

The cracks in theplaster have become my constant companion. I haven’t budged from my bed in three days. I trace them with my eyes, following the jagged lines as they stretch across the ceiling, splitting and branching like veins. They remind me of how fragile everything is— one wrong move, and it all breaks apart.

I blink, but my eyes are dry, raw from the tears I no longer have the energy to shed. This time the heartbreak cuts deeper, and more final.

It’s not just James—although his absence has left a gaping hole in my heart. It’s Jonathon too. I didn’t know him, not really, but the loss is still sharp and real. My chest hurts when I think about him, how his life was cut short the day after we created a child. It’s a vicious kind of cruelty, one that digs deep and twists, leaving its mark on my soul. And Leo… My sweet boy will never know his father. The thought churns in my stomach, nausea creeping up the back of my throat. For all these years, I’ve held onto a quiet hope that Jonathon might reappear. That one day I’d tell Leo, “This is your father.” Now that hope is gone, crushed under a truth that can’t be undone. Hope is a nefarious little bitch that will get you every time.

I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. Every time I try to close my eyes, I see James. His face, twisted with anger, then hollowed with the revelation of Jonathon. The devastation in his eyes wasn’t just about me. It was about the brother he lost, and the future he never knew he’d been deprived of. The loss was shared, but we’re not grieving together. James has shut me out completely. Not a single text, not one call. Nothing. The silence is deafening.

I turn onto my side, curling into the fetal position, clutching the pillow as if it might anchor me to reality. But even that feels futile. How do I go back to work, to the same building where I’ll see him every day? How do I move on when the mere thought of James feels like a knife twisting deeper with each breath?

God, I miss him.

The only thing that’s kept me tethered these past few days is Leo. He’s sneaked into my room a few times, climbing into bed beside me, his tiny body warm and comforting against mine. He doesn’t know why I’m sad, just that I am. And in his innocent way, he’s tried to make me smile, showing me drawings, telling me stories. But even his visits can’t keep me upright for long.

Thank God for Dad. He’s been picking up the slack—feeding Leo, taking care of him, keeping our lives running while I fall apart. But I can’t keep this up. I can’t lie here forever. The world is moving on, whether I like it or not.

And deep down, I know I need to be a mother again. My son deserves better than a hollow shell of a parent. He deserves me—whole, present, fighting. For him, if nothing else. The thought carries me through the fog of despair, but it’s like dragging myself through sludge.

When Saturday rolls around, I force myself out of bed, weak legs carrying me to the bathroom. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, wincing at the pale, gaunt version of myself staring back. My eyes are hollow, rimmed red from exhaustion.

I splash cold water on my face, hoping it will jolt me back to life. I don’t have the luxury of wallowing anymore. My boys need me. Life needs me.

Eden has been a godsend, but the place reminds me of James. Every corner of that club is linked to him, and the thought of going back there makes me uneasy.

But I’ve got debts to pay. A future to secure for Leo. And if that means working two jobs, gritting my teeth, and facing James again… so be it. My family comes first, always.

As I get ready for my bar shift at Eden, I go through the motions mechanically. I only hope that I can make it to the end of the night without breaking down into a blubbering mess.

Waiting for my rideshare in the living room, I pull out my phone and start sifting through work emails. The thought of returning to the office on Monday turns my insides sour, but the emails piling up in my inbox demand my attention. I’ve only been away for five days, but I already have sixty unread messages. I let out a huff, deleting half of them and responding to the rest.

Crossing paths with James is inevitable. But I’ll handle it. I have to. I can’t avoid him forever. But if I’m honest with myself, the very idea of seeing him again—those cold, detached eyes—rips me apart. And yet, I know I can’t run. Not anymore.

After finishing my work emails, I switch to my personal inbox. Most of it is junk—sales offers, newsletters I never signed up for. But one email stands out, from an unfamiliar sender. White & Day Lawyers.

My heart stops for a beat, and before I even click on it, dread coils tight inside me. I know what this is. I know without even reading it that James is making his move. My hands tremble as I open the email, the subject line making my blood run cold: Re: Leonardo Rossi—Legal Notice.

The words blur as I try to focus, my breath hitching in my throat. I force myself to read it. Slowly. Carefully. Each sentence is a slap to the face.

Mr. Hayes has initiated legal proceedings to establish paternity of Leonardo Rossi through a court-ordered DNA test. Pending confirmation of Jonathon Hayes’s paternity, arrangements will be made for a formal trust fund for Leonardo Rossi. Furthermore, Mr. Hayes will be seeking visitation rights and partial custody as Leonardo Rossi’s paternal uncle.

My vision swims and I drop my phone onto my lap, my hands clenching into fists.

He didn’t even call me.

Not a conversation, not an attempt to sort this out between us like adults—he went straight to the lawyers.

Anger boils through me, but it’s the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that pisses me off. James knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s rich, powerful, and connected. And me? I’m just scraping by, working two jobs, trying to keep my head above water. What am I supposed to do against someone like him?

I pick up the phone again, forcing myself to read the email a second time, though it doesn’t change. My eyes catch on the wordstrust fundandpartial custody. He’s not asking. He’s telling. He’s dictating how this is going to go.

A strangled laugh escapes my throat, but there’s nothing humorous about it. How could he do this without even talking to me? The email is clinical, impersonal—like this is just another business transaction for him. Just another item to tick off his list.

But this isn’t just business. This is myson. My entire life.

I press my fingers to my temples, trying to will away the throbbing in my head. The thought of James entering Leo’s life this way… it feels wrong. And yet, I can’t stop him. Even if I wanted to fight this, I know I can’t. I don’t have the resources, the money, or the power to stand up to him.

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