Page 76 of Friends Who Fake It

Her heart was hammering. “Time for what?”

“To sort this goddamned mess out.” He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles glowed white and she tried not to react to his description of their son as ‘mess’.

“How did you find me?” She whispered, turning to face him, and wishing she hadn’t. His face was like nothing she’d ever seen. His anger was a palpable force.

“Damn it! That’s really what you’re worrying about? How the hell I found you?” He reached behind her seat, then dropped her clutch purse on her lap. “You left this last night. Your drivers licence is inside.”

She swept her eyes shut. She hadn’t even realized.

“He’s mine.Si?”

She let out an unsteady breath and nodded, then, because he was driving, she whispered, “Yes. He’s yours.”

“And were you ever going to tell me?”

“I … probably,” she said, and to her own ears it sounded weak.

“Damn it, Elizabeth!” He pulled the car to a stop at the front of her building – of course there was a parking space despite the fact she could never find one. That was how things worked for Xavier. “How can I believe that? Our son is, what? Three? Almost three and a half?”

She nodded.

“And I knewnothingabout him.”

“You were married,” she repeated, staring straight ahead, the moral certainty of her position crumbling all around her, so she was standing on an island that was being steadily eroded by doubt.

“That changes nothing.”

“It changeseverything,” she demurred urgently. “You cheated on your fiancé with me and here Joshua is living proof of your infidelity. If I told you about him, it would have ruined your marriage.”

“My marriage was long over!”

“I didn’t know that!” She intoned angrily. “You were engaged and then you were married…”

“And you were pregnant, and you chose to keep it from me, why? As some sick form of payback.”

“No!” She reacted harshly, pushing her car door open and standing, needing to suck in deep gasps of air. “It wasneverto punish you. Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? How hard it’s been to raise a child on my own? Thank god for Apollo or I would never have managed…”

“Who the hell is Apollo?” He fired back, dark colour slashing his cheeks. He slammed his car door shut, and pressed a button, bleeping it locked. He stalked towards the door to her townhouse, waiting there impatiently.

“My sister’s husband.” She was numb. “Apollo Heranedes.”

“Heranedes Enterprises?”

“Yes. He’s been wonderful. Very supportive.”

“That ismyson!” He shouted, and then made an effort to lower his voice. “I should have been the one to support him! Open the damned door.”

She was tempted to point out that he was doing it again – using commands when questions would have been more appropriate, but she understood his anger. She felt his pain, and she knew that he was simply expressing it however he could.

She dialed the code into the lock – an addition Apollo had insisted on when Joshua had locked himself in the house, along with Elizabeth’s keys, giving rise to a very frantic twenty minutes while Ellie broke a window and pushed the glass inwards, allowing her to climb through and find Joshua (in the kitchen, playing with the pots and pans).

The door clicked open and Xavier swept inside, moving into her house as though he had every right. He stalked from the hallway to the living area, to the kitchen at the back, and then to the stairs.

Then, he paused, turning to pinpoint her with his heated, accusatory stare.

“How could you think I didn’t have a right to know?”

“For all I knew, you were busy starting a family of your own with your wife,” she spat.

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