Chapter 9

Elizabeth

The air feels heavier as I glance at the screen. The name on the display sends a wave of dread washing over me.

Christopher.

Did he know where I was? Is Christopher watching me?

My hand freezes, the phone trembling between my fingers. I don’t know what to do. Should I answer? Should I ignore it? But ignoring him always makes things worse.

“It’s Christopher,” I whisper to Sebastian, my voice shaky.

“Don’t pick up,” he says firmly, stepping closer. His hand rests lightly on my arm, grounding me.

“I have to,” I reply, swallowing hard.

“No, you don’t,” he insists, his eyes searching mine. “You don’t owe him anything, Elizabeth. Not after everything he’s done.”

“But I do,” I say softly, more to myself than to him. I swipe the screen, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Where the fuck are you, Lizzy?” Christopher’s voice is sharp and demanding, slicing through the quiet.

My throat tightens, but I manage to keep my voice steady. “I… I took a cab to the park. I needed some air. I needed to think.”

He exhales loudly, his tone becoming colder. “Come home. Now.”

Before I can respond, the line goes dead.

I lower the phone, my heart pounding. Christopher’s voice still echoes in my mind, harsh and unyielding.

“What did he say?” Sebastian asks, his voice tense and laced with concern.

I glance at him, trying to steady my breathing. “He told me to come home,” I say simply.

“You don’t have to,” Sebastian says, stepping closer. His tone is firm but gentle, like he’s trying to coax me into a new reality, one where Christopher doesn’t control me.

“I do,” I whisper, my voice breaking slightly. “You don’t understand. Edward, Sebastian, I cannot lose my son.”

Tears prick my eyes as my own words sink in, but the weight of my reality is too heavy. “I have to go home,” I reply, shaking my head.

Sebastian’s eyes soften, but his frustration is clear. “At least let me drive you home,” he says after a moment.

“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “No, that’ll only make things worse.”

“I understand,” he asks, gesturing toward me. “Elizabeth, remember. This isn’t living. This is surviving, and you need to remember how to live.”

I swallow hard, his words cutting through me like a blade. He’s right, but what am I supposed to do?

“I wish you could stay,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I want to know you. I want to see you happy. I want to see you smile, Elizabeth.”

His words hit me like a tsunami, pulling me under. My knees feel weak, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. How does he do this? How does he make me feel so alive, so seen?

Sebastian steps closer, his hand brushing my cheek. “You deserve more than this,” he says, his voice firm but tender.

Before I can respond, he leans in, his lips capturing mine. The kiss is slow and deep, filled with an unspoken promise. I lose myself in him, in the warmth and safety he offers.

But reality crashes back too soon. I pull away, my breathing uneven. “I have to go,” I whisper, hating the words as they leave my mouth.

Sebastian nods; his expression pained. “If you ever need me..." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. “You know where to find me.”

I bite my lip, nodding as tears blur my vision. He waves down a cab, his hand lingering on mine as he helps me inside.

I take one last longing look at him. I wrap my arm around his neck. My lips pressing onto his, stealing one last kiss. One last taste of him.

The ride home is a blur of guilt and longing. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I shouldn’t have let myself feel anything for him. But I can’t deny the truth. For the first time in years, I feel something more than hate.

When I step into the house, the silence is deafening. My heels echo on the hardwood floors as I make my way upstairs. Faint laughter drifts from the bedroom, and I follow it, finding Edward standing on my dresser, wearing one of Christopher’s suits.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” I say, forcing a smile. My heart aches at the sight of my little boy, so full of life.

“Mama, you’re home!” Edward cries, holding out his arms for me.

I scoop him up, spinning him around as his laughter fills the room. For a moment, everything feels normal.

But then Christopher’s voice cuts through the air like a blade. “You’re in a good mood.”

I freeze, turning to see him leaning against the doorway. His gaze is sharp, calculating.

“Well,” I say, trying to sound casual, “I figured after what Edward saw yesterday, we might try showing him something different.”

Christopher doesn’t respond, his expression unreadable as he walks to the bed and zips up his suitcase.

“I’m leaving,” he announces abruptly.

I blink, caught off guard. “Leaving?”

“I got a call about a potential investor,” he says, his tone clipped.

“Where to?” I ask, faking interest.

“New York,” he replies, watching me closely.

“Why the sudden interest, Lizzy?” he asks, suspicion creeping into his tone.

“I just like to know where to reach you,” I say evenly. “It’s not always fun getting my information from your secretary.”

Christopher smirks, clearly unbothered.

As I turn to leave, his voice stops me. “You’ll need to be at the office while I’m gone. And my mother will have Edward until I get back.”

I stop dead in my tracks, his words sinking in like lead. Slowly, I turn back to face him.

“What did you just say?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous.

“She wants to spend time with him,” he says nonchalantly. “Calm down, Elizabeth.”

“She only wants to spend time with him when you’re out of town,” I snap. “He’s my son, Christopher. What the hell is wrong with you?”

His eyes narrow. “Watch your tone,” he warns, his voice icy.

“You think I’d take him and run?” I ask, my voice rising. “Is that what you think of me?”

Christopher’s smirk returns, cruel and mocking. “I don’t know, Lizzy. Would you? Because if you leave, you leave alone. You and Edward are mine.”

His words hit me like a slap, and I feel rage boiling inside me.

I storm out of the room, my chest heaving with anger. But as I make my way down the hall, a voice in the back of my mind whispers a dangerous thought.

I would have left, and Christopher knows that. He always knows.