<b>Chapter </b><b>152 </b>
-CELINE
The café tastes like backstabbing and burnt coffee.
I watch Caesar tear down his chocte cake, his small fingers sticky with frosting, and try to ignore the way my phone keeps buzzing against.
the table.
Hunter’s name shes across the screen for the third time in ten minutes.
‘Miss you already. How’s the park?‘
The lie sits in my throat like poison. I had looked him straight in the eye this morning on face time and told him we were going for fresh air and yground time.
Instead, I’m sitting in a café waiting for his mother to destroy what’s left of my world.
“Mommy, is Papaing?” Caesar asks, chocte smeared across his cheek.
“No, baby. Papa’s working.” I dab at his face with a napkin, my hands steadier than they have any right to be. “Remember? He’s on his big
trip.”
Caesar’s face falls the way it always does when Hunter isn’t here. Three years old and already attached to a father he barely knows.
The thought makes my chest tight.
The bell above the door chimes, and I know without looking that she’s here. The entire café seems to hold its breath as Eleanor Reid makes
her entrance.
She’s magnificent in the way natural disasters are magnificent–beautiful and terrible and absolutely destructive.
Her designer coat probably costs more than I make in six months. Every silver hair is perfectly in ce, her makeup wless despite the early
hour.
When her eyes find mine across the room, I feel like prey.
“Grandma Eleanor!” Caesar bounces in his seat, waving enthusiastically.
My stomach drops. Of course he remembers her. Children always remember the people who give them expensive gifts and empty promises.
Eleanor glides toward our table, her smile widening as she approaches Caesar. “Hello, darling boy. Look how big you’ve gotten.”
She bends to ept his excited hug, and for a moment, something almost human crosses her face. Almost.
“I missed you, Grandma,” Caesar says, clinging to her coat.
“Did you now?” Her voice is soft, fond even. Then she looks at me, and the warmth vanishes like it was never there at all.
“Celine.”
“Eleanor.” I don’t stand. Don’t offer a greeting. Three months of Hunter’s coldness taught me how to ice people out when necessary.
She slides into the booth across from me with fluid grace. “Charming location. Very… authentic.<b>” </b>
The insult is wrapped in silk, but it still cuts.
I feel the familiar shame creep up my neck–the same shame I felt as a child when Jesse got new clothes and I got hand <b>me </b><b>downs</b>.
<b>“</b>You didn’t ask me here to critique my restaurant choices.”
“No.” Eleanor’s smile is sharp as broken ss. “I asked you here to discuss your interesting condition.”
My hand moves instinctively to my stomach. Still t, still my secret. “I don’t know what you
mean.”
“Please, dear. I’m not stupid.” She signals the waitress with the high–handed wave of someone who’s never been told no. “Your medical records make for fascinating reading.”
The blood drains from my face. “You had no right….”
“I had every right. My son’s welfare is my concern.” The waitress approaches, and Eleanor barely nces at her. “Sparkling water. San Pellegrino, if you have it.”
The poor girl looks confused. “We don’t carry..
“Then whatever passes for water in this ce will have to do.” Eleanor’s dismissal is absolute.
I want to apologize to the waitress, but I can’t find my voice. Can’t find anything except the crushing effect of Eleanor’s presence across <b>from </b><ol><li>me. </li></ol>
“You’re wondering how I knew,” Eleanor continues conversationally. “It wasn’t difficult. Hunter visiting maternity wards, looking at you like you hung the moon, that little glow you’re trying so hard to hide.” Her eyes narrow.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“Does Hunter know?” The question tears out of me before I can stop it.
“Well let say he does. But i know my son, he won’t hide such news for long. The question is whether you’ll be around when he does.”
The waitress returns with a ss of tap water, setting it down with slightly more force than necessary. Eleanor doesn’t acknowledge her.
“I gave you two million dors to disappear,” Eleanor says, hér voice barely above a whisper. “You were supposed to be gone. Instead, you’re here, pregnant with my son’s child, ying house <i>like </i>some delusional little girl.”
“I’m not ying anything.” My voice is stronger than I expected. “Hunter asked me to stay. He loves me.”
“Love.” Eleanorughs, and it’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. “My dear, naive girl. Hunter doesn’t love you. He feels guilty about you. There’s a difference.”
The words hit like physical blows. Because part of me–the part that’s been abandoned and overlooked my entire life–believes them.
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I? Then why are you here instead <i>of </i>with him? Why are you lying to him about where you are right now?” Eleanor leans forward<b>, </b>her perfume overwhelming.
“Because you know I’m right. You know you don’t belong in his world.”
Caesar has gone quiet beside me, sensing the tension even if he doesn’t understand it. His small hand finds mine <b>under </b><b>the </b><b>table</b><b>, </b><b>and </b><b>I </b>squeeze it like a lifeline.
<b>13:04 </b>Fri<b>, </b><b>8 </b><b>Aug </b>
“What do you want from me?
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“I want you to disappear. Take your son, take whatever money you need, and go somewhere my son will never find you” fleandro valce (e matter–of–fact, like she’s discussing the weather. <fna3ba> ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? FιndNovel</fna3ba>
“Have the baby quietly. Live your little life. Leave Hunter to build the life he deserves.”
“And if I refuse?”
Eleanor’s smile is winter incarnate. “Then I’ll destroy you. Slowly. Methodically, I’ll make sure every door in this city closes to you. Every <i>job</i>, every opportunity, every friend you think you have. I’ll make you wish you had never been born.”
The threat feels real between us, like smoke in the air. I can taste my fear; it is sharp and metallic.
But then Caesar squeezes my hand again, and I remember what I’m fighting for. Not just Hunter’s love, but my son’s future. The baby growing
inside me.
The family we could be.
“No.”
Eleanor blinks, clearly not expecting that response. “Excuse me?”
“I said no.” I straighten in my seat, drawing strength from some ce I didn’t know existed. “I’m not running anymore. I’m not letting you decide who’s worthy of love and who isn’t.<b>” </b>
“You little…” Eleanor’sposure
or just a moment, revealing something ugly underneath.
“I love your son. And he loves me. And this baby….” I press my hand to my stomach, “—this baby is going to be born into a family that wants them. You can threaten me all you want, but I’m done being afraid.”
Eleanor stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. Several heads turn in our direction. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”
“Then I guess I’ll find out.”
She stares at me for a long moment, something like respect flickering in her eyes before it’s gone. Then she turns and walks away, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown.
The bell chimes as she leaves, and suddenly I can breathe again.
“Mommy?” Caesar tugs at my sleeve. “Why was Grandma Eleanor mad?”
I pull him into myp, burying my face in his hair. He smells like chocte and innocence and everything I need to protect.
“Sometimes grown–ups disagree about things, baby. But it’s going to be okay.”
“Promise?”
I close my eyes and think about Hunter’s hands on my belly, the way he whispered to our unborn child. I think about the life we’re building together, fragile and precious and worth fighting for.
“I promise.”
But as I hold my son, wonder what kind of world I’m bringing another child into.
And whether love is enough to protect us from Eleanor Reid’s wrath.