Page 18 of Grumpy Ex's Secret Baby

“As he should if you’re not going to be reasonable.”

It felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. Out of everything I expected Bret to say, that was not it.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not. That’s his kid too. It was different when he didn’t know that she existed.”

“And what if he ruins us financially?”

Even as I said the words, they tasted bitter in my mouth. Tyson would never do that. Even if he took me to court, he would never leave his family unprovided for.

Bret gave me a flat look. “Yeah, sure. Let’s pretend that’s possible.”

“I have no clue how to handle any of this,” I said, running my hand down my face.

“Give him a chance. At least then you can say you tried.”

“I’m going to have to go talk to him, aren’t I?”

Bret grinned. “Time to put on your big girl panties, pull yourself together, and do what’s best for your daughter.”

“Fine,” I said, getting up. “Will you watch her?”

“Absolutely.”

After saying goodbye to Trinity and promising to be home soon, I left. My stomach twisted and turned as I pulled out my phone and called the sheriff’s office.

“Corey Maxwell please,” I said as soon as the line connected.

“Sheriff Maxwell speaking.”

“I need Tyson’s address,” I said as I got in my car. “And don’t tell me that you can’t give that information out, Corey, because I know you told him aboutmypersonal life.”

“Alright, Haley. Calm down. He’s over on Birch Avenue. Number fifty-seven.”

“Thank you. Has there been anything done about those letters yet?”

“Not yet. We’re working on it.”

I didn’t bother listening to any more of his pathetic excuses about why they couldn’t protect the public when that was the only job he had. With an irritated sigh, I turned up the music and rolled the windows down, hoping a pounding bassline would calm my nerves as I drove to Tyson’s.

Asking him to change everything about himself had been unreasonable. I was willing to admit that. I just needed his assurance that Trinity would be kept off the internet and away from the paparazzi.

When I got to his house, I sat outside for a few minutes, taking deep breaths. Once I found my nerve, I walked to the door and rang the bell.

The wait between the bell ringing and Tyson opening the door seemed to stretch an eternity. The door opened when I was about to turn around and go home. Tyson looked down at me, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“What are you doing here? I thought you needed time?”

“Can we talk?”

He stared at me for a moment longer. I was afraid he would slam the door in my face. If it had been the other way around, I probably would have.

Finally, he nodded and stepped to the side, holding the door open wider. With a deep breath, I followed him inside.

8

TYSON

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