[Olivia, where are you?!]
[What’s with the death certificate?]
[You’re making this up to mess with me, aren’t you?]
[Answer your damn phone!]
I exhaled, switched off my phone, and looked up
—
straight into a warm embrace.
“Olivia, it’s been a while.” The familiar scent of
sandalwood calmed my frayed nerves.
“It has,” I said softly.
Ethan, in a tailored gray suit that accentuated
his broad shoulders, his dark hair swept back
from his intense eyes, looked sophisticated, the
<
youthful awkwardness gone.
True to his word, he took me to visit nursing
homes. Once we’d settled on one, he took me
sightseeing.
A week later, Ethan flew to the US for a
conference. I was alone in my apartment when
the nurse from Mom’s nursing home called,
panicked. “Olivia, are you having trouble? They
stopped your mom’s treatment. Said there’s no
payment. She’s fading fast. She needs this
treatment!”
My blood ran cold, but I forced myself to stay
calm. “Don’t worry, I’ll call them. Please look
after my mom.”
I called the nursing home. The head nurse, who
had always been helpful, wouldn’t answer. She
sent a text. [Ms. Davis, Mr. Walker stopped the
treatments. He’s been paying for your mother’s
care. There’s nothing I can do.] [You haven’t
<
been reachable. Mr. Walker is upset about the
baby situation. You should apologize.]
My stomach lurched. I’d already put a deposit
down on the new nursing home. I called Josh.
He answered immediately.
“Finally decided to call? You owe me an
apology for that stunt with the baby.” His voice
was casual, indifferent to my mother’s life.
Fighting back tears, I said, “Pay for Mom’s
treatment. I won’t ask for anything in the
divorce.”
He laughed, but there was no warmth in it.
“Why should I? Didn’t your letter say you never
wanted to see me again?”
Panic clawed at me. “Mom’s sick. Don’t play
games with her life.”
His voice was cold, venomous. “Then why did
<
you play games with my child? Where did you
print that fake death certificate? It looked
pretty real.”
I was shaking. “Josh, I don’t have time for this!
This is between us; leave my mother out of it!”
He sounded smug. “Olivia, don’t be hysterical.
Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. You’re
probably due any day now. I’ll be there this
time.”
My phone buzzed. The nurse texted again,
saying Mom was in pain, begging me to make
the payment. Terror gripped me.
“Josh, please, just pay for the treatment. I was
wrong. I shouldn’t have lied about the baby.”
“Just take care of Mom, and I’ll do anything.”
Hearing my desperation seemed to satisfy him.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
He seemed to consider it. “Apologize to Mia.
We weren’t doing anything wrong. You made
her look bad.”
Nausea rolled through me, but I had no choice.
“I don’t have her number.”
“She’s right here,” he said slowly. “Say it to her
directly.”
Before I could react, Mia’s sugary voice
chirped, “Olivia? Hold on, I’m recording this.
Just in case.”
My heart turned to ice. I said numbly, “I’m sorry,
Mia. I misunderstood. It was all my fault.”
Ignoring Mia’s giggles, I pleaded, “I apologized.
Now pay the nursing home! Take care of my
mom!”
Mia’s laughter stopped. “I’m not satisfied with your apology. You have to make it up to me.”
I froze, filled with a sudden, violent rage. For
the first time, I understood what it felt like to want to kill someone.
The doorbell rang. Dazed, I opened it to find
Ethan. I grabbed his arm. “Ethan, I need to borrow money. They stopped Mom’s treatment. She’s dying…”
Unsure what was happening, he immediately
handed me a card. “Everything I have is in
there. Use it for your mom.”
