Page 113 of Who's Your Daddy?

I know it isherson, and between the two of us, she’s the only biological parent here, but hearing that just set me off. “Oh, now he’s your son? You didn’t give a fuck about him when you justdumpedhim here. You abandoned him for four months, and now you think you can waltz back in here—”

“I didn’t abandon him.” Her voice betrays her, but she swallows and quickly tampers down her erratic behavior. “I swear I didn’t abandon him.”

“Then where the hell did you disappear to?”

Her shoulders slump with the helplessness she’s feeling, and she looks around as if she can somehow find the answer in my front yard. “I just...I got caught up in a bad situation. I tried to work something amicable out...with Teddy, but he...um...it didn’t go how I wanted it to go.” She’s trying to keep up a façade of strength, but she’s crumbling beneath it. The first tear rolls down her cheek, but she swipes it away. “He did...something awful...something I never thought he would do. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. I wanted to come back...I did...but I just...couldn’t. I was in...” She pauses, thinking carefully about what she wants to reveal to me. This wasn’t something that was apparent to me before, but I can see it now. The way she lies and manipulates is very purposeful. “It doesn’t matter where I was. I’m back now, and that’s what matters. That part of my life is over...and I just want to see my baby.”

I’m trying. I am digging into the depths of my soul to not lose my shit here. Did she really just tell me that she tried to get back together with her ex, it didn’t work out, and now she’s back to see her baby? If she couldn’t prioritize him even once in the last four months, then she shouldn’t have the right to see him. She forfeited that right when she left him on my doorstep and ran off to be with some other dude.

“Lia, I don’t think that’s a good ide—”

A loud cry comes from inside the house, and she goes from zero to nuclear in 1.3 seconds. She hurls herself at me like a wildcat, trying to shove past me to get inside.

“Please let me see him,” she screams. “Please!”

I grip her waist to stop her, but she’s hysterical, thrashing against my hold.

“Peter, please! Just let me see him!”

She’s kicking and screaming like a crazy person. The neighbors are going to think I’m killing someone over here. At the very least, they’re going to report a domestic disturbance to the cops if I don’t get her under control. I yank her inside and kick the door shut behind me.

“Calm down,” I say.

She continues to fight me, so I grip her shoulders and pin her against the wall.

“Calm. Down. I can’t let you see him if you’re like this. You’re gonna scare him.”

That gets through to her, and she quietens.

“Okay, now take a deep breath.”

I wait for her breathing to slow before I release her and take a step back. Despite my better judgment, I gesture to the living room, and she rushes in, dropping beside the rocker to scoop him up.

“Oh, my baby.” The façade collapses, and she showers him with kisses as tears stream down her face. “Look how big you are. I missed you so much. I promise I’m never going to leave you again.”

Even though she’s not as hysterical as she was a moment ago. Ambrose is still confused by her presence and cries louder.

“It’s me,” she says, disheartened. “Don’t you remember me? Even a little?”

She stands up, trying to soothe him, but he only becomes more upset. In turn, she becomes more upset because she wants him to recognize her, and I don’t think he does. It gets to a point where they’re both crying, and I have to intervene.

I walk over to them and take him from her. Although reluctant, she gives him to me without a fight. I check the time, then walk with him to the kitchen.

“He needs a bottle.”

She doesn’t follow me. She doesn’t take any liberties by thinking she can just prance around my house. Instead, she waits there until we get back. We remain absolutely quiet as I feed him. Not one look in my direction. She keeps her eyes pinned to the floor. Once I’m done, I put him back in the rocker in front of her.

“He doesn’t know who you are,” I say. “And I don’t want him getting upset, so you can sit here and play with him...but keep your distance.”

That hits her hard. A pain-filled squeak escapes, but she clamps it down immediately. I refuse to leave her alone with him, so I sit down on the couch furthest away from them and watch her silently from across the room. She’s not the person she used to be. Something happened that fundamentally changed her.

When we first met, she was so withdrawn, but I saw something special inside her. Something I thought her ex destroyed. I chased it relentlessly. I did everything I could to pull her out of her shell, and after months of chipping away, I finally saw who I thought was therealLia. But that woman is gone. The smiles. The giggles. The vampire jokes. All gone. She’s not the same.

She went back to her ex, and the result was that she fully retracted back into her shell. The stoic mask is back in place. She’s doing a piss-poor job of it, but she’s trying to hide all traces of vulnerability from me.

Now, I know she’s not the person I thought she was. She lied, and the woman I fell in love with was a mere fabrication. But fuck, seeingthisversion of her is grinding me raw. I can see that she’s genuinely happy to be reunited with Ambrose, but her eyes are still so lifeless. And that bruise on her cheek...

What the fuck did he do to her? Again, I steel my emotions and reel that shit back in. It’s not my business, not my problem. This woman is a liar, and I need to subdue my empathy and guilt to avoid getting caught in her bullshit again.

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