“I asked you to help me stay,” I reminded him quietly.
He stared at me, completely speechless. I did not wait around for another pointless argument. I got into the driver’s seat and turned the key.
At Mom’s house, Liam fell fast asleep against her chest while Noah kicked his legs happily beside me on the soft couch. My phone began ringing loudly from my purse.
“Bring them home,” Mason demanded the second I picked up.
“No,” I answered.
“I’m their father,” he stated firmly.
“Then start acting like one,” I told him.
He went completely silent on the line. Then his voice sharpened with anger. “Do you know what this makes me look like?”
There it was. Not a single inquiry about my health. Not a question about whether my broken arm hurt worse. It was entirely about his appearance to others.
“Tell people the truth,” I said calmly.
