“Tin, I—”
“Get out of my—this house!”
There’s no way she’s going to listen to reason or let me explain when she’s like this, and as much as it hurts to see her this way, I need to go before something is said we can’t come back from. Hell, at this point, I don’t know if we’ve come back from those words I said thirteen years ago.
“Take this,” I say, pulling an envelope from my back pocket.
She won’t even look at it.
“Take it, Tin. The ball is in your court.”
I walk around her and place it on top of the book she slammed on the table and walk out of the house.
I never thought this is how things would turn out. I was certain she loved me. I knew she was cautious. What woman wouldn’t be after the history we shared? She has more than just her own heart to consider in this situation. But how does she seem to hate me more now than ever before?
Chapter 28
Tinley
I glance at the bedside table one last time before leaving the room. The envelope, a bomb big enough to devastate my life shouldn’t be able to fit into such a small package.
I didn’t open it. My fingers burned just from picking it up and carrying it out of the living room. I didn’t want Alex to find it, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it either. I’m doing the most irresponsible thing ever, pretending like it doesn’t exist. Well, doing my best because I’ve looked in the direction of the drawer it’s hidden in over a million times since Ignacio left it hours ago.
I’m certain it’s paperwork for a court hearing, so I know I can’t ignore it forever, but I need just a little more time.
A few more hours to wrap my head around losing custody of my son. I asked—yelled—at him about it, but didn’t give him the chance to respond. I didn’t want his answer then any more than I do now. I don’t have a leg to stand on. I could argue that I’m a good mom, but we’re going to be homeless in four weeks. I don’t anticipate Cooper ever showing his face again until he blows through the money from the sale.
On top of that, my boss, pissed that I needed extra time, hired a new girl. Technically, I still have a job, but the hours assigned to me aren’t really enough to even waste the money on gas to get to work.
Gas. Work.
How long will it be before he comes back and claims the car he swears is a rental? I know better. Too nosy for my own good, I looked in the glove box. There’s a signed contract in there for purchase. He’s making payments on that damn thing, not renting it for a few weeks.
Another manipulation, just like I accused him of. Would he go so far as to have it towed, probably the day before court so I miss the hearing or show up late?
As much as I want to, I can’t picture Ignacio doing that, but I let myself believe he’d never hand me court papers for custody either.
I leave my bedroom, hearing Alex come through the front door.
“How was practice?” I ask.
“How did things go with that guy this morning? Did he turn his nose up in disgust and walk right back out?”
“Our house isn’t disgusting. It just needs a little tender love and care.” And about thirty thousand dollars in repairs. Where are the Flip This House people when you really need them? “He was fine. How was practice?”
I refuse to discuss with him the man’s plan for the house. I just pray we can avoid this area long enough that he doesn’t have to know that it’s been torn down.
“Fine.” He shrugs.
“Are you hungry?” Did you eat with him already?
“I could eat.”
That doesn’t answer my unspoken question because honestly the boy is twelve going on thirteen and eats more than a grown man.
“So, you didn’t get anything after practice?”
“I grabbed tacos with Dad, but they put pico on them.” He makes a disgusted sound.
Dad? When did that happen or is this the first time I’ve heard him refer to him that way? I’ve used your dad in conversation, but…
“I hate when that happens,” I mutter. “Did you guys talk about anything?”
“He helped me with my English homework. Did you know he speaks like a ton of different languages? He’s really important with his job. Sometimes they can’t even work if he’s not there to help.”
I can see the excitement swimming in his eyes as he relays the information. He’s no longer the angry boy that hates both of us for my lies, and it makes me understand that Ignacio should’ve been around the entire time. I wonder how he’d feel if he found out his dad wants to take him from me?
“He has a bird. Well, he doesn’t have a bird but his friend at work, Wren, does, and I love it. His name is Puff Daddy.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
“You probably wouldn’t like the bird because he cusses a lot, but he can also sing. Not very well, but enough you can understand the beat and the words. And he dances.” He picks up his arms waving them wildly to impersonate this bird he’s talking about. “Like this, and he pounces all around, and I can’t wait to meet him in person.”
“Did he say when that was going to happen?”
Ignacio swore to me today that he didn’t have this conversation with him yet, but I may have forced his hand after yelling at him earlier. No matter the choice I make, it always backfires in my damn face.
“Meeting Puff Daddy?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. Why? Do you want to meet him, too?”
He’s so animated it reminds me that he’s supposed to be like this at his age. He isn’t supposed to walk around sad with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I’ve put too much on him, expecting him to handle things like an adult when in fact, he’s still a child.
“I don’t know how I feel about talking birds,” I say, trying not to let on that I’m beginning to feel like I’ve already lost him. I walk past him into the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?”
I bend down to look in the fridge and find it scarily empty. The pantry isn’t much better.
It’s just one more thing Ignacio can point out in court. I’m so absentminded that I haven’t gone grocery shopping. We’ve been surviving on the deliveries that Ignacio had arranged for the house, but I stupidly told the kid last week not to come back. In the middle of everything else, I didn’t realize we’d gotten so low.
“Maybe we can order out.”
“My treat,” Alex says, pulling money from his pocket.
“Where the hell did you get that?” I snap, knowing full well what kids around here can do to get money. Things haven’t changed much since I was a teen.
“Calm down, Mom. Dad gave it to me.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and for a split second I’m sad that he got money from his father rather than dealing drugs or stealing. How fucked up is that? I just know it would be easier to solve the criminal problem than it will be to deal with Ignacio and the way he’s buying his son.
“That’s nice of him.”
“So, pizza or burgers?” His grin is wide as he continues to wave the money.
We decide on burgers, but I pay. I’m to the point of my stubborn standoff that I won’t even take his money indirectly.