Chapter 9
She was flirting with a young, up–and–coming actor, her cheeks flushed. We locked eyes briefly as the elevator doors closed, and she looked startled.
Not my problem.
I got into my friend’s car. On the way home, Samuel, whom I had unblocked just days ago, texted me.
He hadn’t expected me to lift the block.
“I want to see my son.”
“I’m still his father; can’t I at least see him?”
He sent multiple messages.
I responded, “He doesn’t have a father. Take care of your child with Lila,” and blocked him again.
I didn’t expect to find him in my living room a few days later.
I’d just finished working late, and my friend’s brother had offered to pick me up. Our connection had deepened–getting someone with high–functioning autism to care was rare and precious.
As I stepped off the elevator, I saw Julian Hart holding a small cake and a bouquet of sunflowers.
“I heard you like sunflowers, so I brought some. And here’s some tiramisu,” he said with a smile.
Entering the apartment, he keyed in my passcode effortlessly.
“Mom, Dad, Julian’s here for dinner,” I called, noticing Samuel sitting on the couch, staring at us in shock.
Julian greeted him politely and placed the flowers in my room. “Mrs. Bennett, can I help?”
My mom waved him off, laughing. “No need, your hands are valuable. Just wait for dinner.”
She looked at Samuel. “Finished talking? We’re about to eat.”
Samuel walked to his usual spot, eyes wide with disbelief.
L
“We didn’t invite you to stay. We meant you should finish what you need to say and go,” my dad said, opening the door. “I’ll arrange for
someone to help with the kid. It’s late; you’d better leave while you can still catch a ride.”
Samuel looked at me. “Morgan, can we talk?”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
I turned to my mom, asking for extra chili, craving something spicy. Julian glanced at Samuel. “Need me to press the elevator button for you?”
Samuel’s face twisted with anger as he stormed out.
After he left, my dad shut the door with a sigh. “What a nuisance. I was going to pick up your son from Alex’s today, but Samuel showed up saying he wanted to see the boy, so your mom and I decided not to go.”
“Didn’t even bring a toy, doesn’t know his name, and still has the nerve to call himself a father, my mom muttered as she served dinner.
Julian handed me my plate, chuckling when he noticed how eagerly I was eating. “You… didn’t…”
“Nope. Don’t worry. I’m done stepping in the same mess.”
My dad informed me that Lila’s child was indeed unwell, with symptoms surfacing recently. Samuel had asked my dad to find a neurosurgeon for a consultation.
He wanted my opinion.
I had none. Without love for Samuel, there was no hate either–only resignation.
Julian’s skills had him temporarily assigned to St. Luke’s. When I visited him there, Dr. Wright greeted me.
“Julian’s in a meeting. Come wait in my office; it’s cooler inside.”
I followed him in and found Samuel and Lila mid–argument.
“I want a divorce,” Lila yelled.
Samuel pointed at her, exasperated. “Think carefully. If we split, Morgan is waiting for me.”
