His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

Chapter

50

"Why?" I asked, unable to mask the confusion in my voice. "Aren't you swamped with work? Why are you offering to take us home?"

Carlos didn't even blink. "If Nathan sees you with a boy who looks exactly like his dead son, he's going to come after you."

My heart skipped a beat. Nathan. Of course. Nathan had already been suspicious back at the park, and now that Carlos had put it into words, I realized the danger I could be in. Cyrus did look so much like Oliver, Nathan's lost child. It wasn't something I could ignore anymore. Nathan wasn't someone to be taken lightly. I nodded silently, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Carlos was right. As much as I disliked his bluntness, he always had a way of cutting through the noise and seeing things for what they were.

We made our way back to my house, the ride quiet and tense. I could feel the

anticipation building in the air, an uneasy feeling that something was waiting for

when we pulled up to my house, there was Nathan, standing outside with his beta. His face was red with fury, his

toward the car before I could even get out, his voice booming with anger. "Doris," he shouted,

a bomb waiting to go off. Lfelt my stomach twist in knots as Nathan glared at me, his eyes darting from me to

hesitation, I stormed up to Nathan and slapped him across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the stillness of the street, and for a moment, I was sure everyone around us had frozen in shock. My hand stung from the force, but the look on Nathan's face-wide-eyed

His Pleas. But Our Son's

every bit

trying to hurt him, and where were you? You didn't do a thing. You

had been building for years. Everything I'd gone through, the years of silence, the abandonment, the moments

doesn't matter who his father is! You've never cared before, so why start now? All you need to know is that this child has nothing to do with you, Nathan. He's my son. You have no claim over

mouth slightly open, his face pale from the shock of what I had just said-and done. For a long moment, he didn't move, didn't speak. And then, slowly, his knees buckled, and he sank to the ground in front of me. The sight of him kneeling there, looking up at me with desperate, pleading eyes, filled me with a strange mixture of disbelief and anger. Was this the same man? "Please," Nathan begged, his voice hoarse.

was insulting. "You have a child with Sienna, don't you?" I said sharply, iny voice cutting through the silence. "What are you doing here, acting like you care, when you already have a child of your own? Go home, Nathan. Go see your child. Cyrus has nothing to do with you!"