Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
Colton
Jenna self-consciously pulls the blanket up to her chest and that’s enough for me to almost spiral. What the fuck is my ex doing here this early? I didn’t even know she still owned a key. I’ll get them replaced today.
I put a hand over Jennas knees, casually stroking them.
There’s never a good time for Mira to drop by, but still, she managed to pick the absolute worst one.
Right now, all I want is to kick her out so I can finally clean my damn pants in peace.
“If a vampire lies next to me, yeah, it’s hard getting a boner.
With the right person there’s never not a good time. ”
She narrows her eyes again and I can see the hatred flooding in them. It’s quickly replaced with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes though.
And suddenly her tone is bright as she chirps, “Well, then good morning! I thought I’d drop by with something for Livy.” The false cheer in her voice could rot teeth.
“Normally I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you but not when it comes to you—I didn’t realize you still had a key. Don’t worry, though. It won’t work the next time you try to let yourself in uninvited.”
She tilts her head. “I have a meeting nearby later on. Thought I’d surprise my daughter with breakfast.” Her emphasis on “my daughter” is subtle but unmistakable. “And you are...?”
“Stop fucking with us, Mira. You know she’s my lawyer and my wife. This is bullshit.” I get up, using a blanket like a cape to cover up the big stain on my pants.
“Jenna Davis. Colton’s attorney. We saw each other in court three times…” Jenna says, still pulling at the blanket like it will save her from that horrible woman.
“Right, of course.” Mira’s cold smile tightens. “And you’re sleeping on the couch because...?”
“We were so busy making out all night that we missed bedtime. Is that enough explanation for your nosy self?” I grunt and Mira looks at me as if I just smashed a knife into her back.
I quickly change into fresh sweats and a shirt, moving at lightning speed—I don’t want to leave Jenna alone with that monster.
When I’m back in the living room, I hear small footsteps behind her.
Livy peeks around the pillar, her hair tousled from sleep.
When she sees her mother, she doesn’t run to her.
Instead, she comes up to me, pressing closer, one hand gripping the fabric of my pants.
The gesture speaks volumes. I grip her back, protective.
“Olivia, sweetie!” Mira’s voice rises an octave. “Look what Mommy brought you!”
On the tray are four steaming croissants, fresh berries arranged in a perfect pattern, and a thermos that presumably contains orange juice. It’s a picture-perfect breakfast, like something staged for Instagram. I wonder how many photos she took of it before leaving her apartment.
My stomach twists as I force a smile. Not a polite one.
This isn’t a casual breakfast visit. I don’t believe in coincidences—especially when they’re carrying pastries.
Yeah, this is a calculated move. Mira hasn’t mentioned Livy’s wellbeing once in our legal proceedings.
She’s fought for custody as if Livy were a prize to be won, not a child to be cared for.
And now she shows up unannounced with breakfast?
She wanted to catch us sleeping in different beds.
I look at Jenna and her glance tells me she thinks the same.
I really need to change the locks. Then, before I can signal to her that she needs to make the bed in the guest room, hiding all traces that could tell on us, Jenna rushes up with the blanket curled around her and leaves.
She glances once at me before returning to her room and I know she had the same train of thought.
“Don’t you want to give your mommy a hug, sweetie?” Mira asks Livy, who still hasn’t moved from behind me.
“No.”
“Olivia,” she says and I notice my daughter stiffening up.
“We don’t urge children to give affection,” I say. “If she wants to hug you, she will.”
“You must have brainwashed her.”
“Are you coming to take me away?” Livy asks and my hearts breaks.
“No, she can’t. She’s only allowed to visit, zaya.”
“Until further notice, yes. You can come back to me soon.”
“I don’t want to,” Livy says. “I want to live with daddy and Jenna.”
When she says Jenna’s name Mira snorts. “Yeah, as if she stays.”
Livy looks up at me, uncertainty in her eyes. I can’t put into words how much I hate my ex-wife. “What does that mean daddy?”
I give her what I hope is a reassuring headshake. “Nothing. How about we have that… breakfast, huh? She won’t take you away, we’re just having a nice… breakfast.”
All I want is for things to be normal for Livy, even though it means sitting at the same table with her devil of a mother.
It would be perfect if we could behave like normal people in front of her, I’m just not sure she is capable.
And to be honest, I’d bet a lot that if I win full custody, she’d vanish forever, starting over new somewhere else as if Livy was replaceable.
Right now, losing court means losing all the money for her. I know that’s all there is to her.
“Do you want to?” Livy asks me.
Want? Fuck no. I want to throw her out of the window. “Sure, we can all sit together and enjoy the time.”
Livy doesn’t seem convinced. She doesn’t trust her mother either. She hurt us both in so many ways.
Mira bustles past us toward the kitchen, her designer heels clicking on my marble floor.
Livy follows reluctantly, still clutching me.
We sit down at the table and watch Mira set the tray before us.
“Look at these beautiful berries! And these croissants are from that French bakery you love. The one by Mommy’s apartment. ”
“I don’t love French bakeries,” Livy murmurs and sits on my lap.
Since Mira kept on staring at her, she finally reaches for a berry, her small fingers hovering over the arrangement as if she’s afraid to disturb its perfection. Maybe she did at some point and got screamed at.
“Go ahead,” Mira encourages, though I notice she’s already got her phone out, angled to capture the moment. I wonder if she posts the pic with the caption “Perfect breakfast with my daughter.”
“Take whatever you want, baby.”
Livy selects a strawberry and bites into it cautiously. A drop of juice runs down her chin.
“Careful there, you’re dripping,” Mira says, handing her a napkin. “We don’t want to stain your pajamas.”
Every interaction feels performative, like Mira is playing the role of the devoted mother rather than simply being one. It makes my skin crawl.
I hear footsteps and Jenna is back, nodding at me and I know she fixed it all.
In case Mira gets nosy soon, she will find nothing that doesn’t look like a happy marriage.
And even though I have over a hundred reasons why I loved pleasuring my wife just minutes ago, I am so happy Mira walked in that moment, seeing us cuddling like that. Maybe it even convinced her.
Jenna sits next to me, and I lean over for her, part for show, part for being desperate to touch her again, and kiss her. I practically feel the stare from Mira. If she could, she would scorch us right now.
“Take a croissant, Solnyshko,” I say.
Mira stiffens at the pet name. She knows what it means but I never called her that. It would have been too affectionate. I like to call Mira a parasite.
“’Do you think it’s poisoned?” Jenna whispers so silently that only I can hear it.
I shake my head. “No, that crime would lead to prison and even less money. She’s too greedy for that.”
Jenna giggles and takes a croissant.
We all eat in a very uncomfortable manner. Mira tries to talk to Livy, but she couldn’t care less. Well, that’s what you get when you neglect your own child. Then I check the clock.
“Livy, you need to get dressed, we have to go soon.”
“Oh, yes. Bye, Mom.” Livy seizes the opportunity for escape, grabbing another croissant and a handful of berries before scurrying out of the kitchen. I watch her go, then turn back to Mira.
“Why are you really here?” I ask.
Mira’s fake smile doesn’t falter even a bit. “Can’t a mother bring breakfast for her child?”
“A mother who’s shown up for exactly two dance events since kindergarten and ‘forgot’ the last three scheduled visitations? That mother?”
“I’ve been busy with work,” she says, her voice hardening slightly. “Not all of us can adjust our schedules around a child.”
“That’s exactly what parents do,” Colton says. “And please, your work? You can fool your attorney but not me.”
“You have a team of people helping you—coaches who reschedule, managers who make arrangements. Don’t pretend you’re doing this all on your own.”
“I make it work,” he insists. “I show up.”
“As fascinating as this discussion is,” Jenna chimes in. “Perhaps it should happen at another time. Preferably with legal representation present.”
Without looking at Jenna even once, Mira turns to me, perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. “Well, I wasn’t aware Colton needed his lawyer for a family breakfast.”
Jenna sighs. “I’m just suggesting that any discussion about parenting schedules or obligations might be better suited for a more formal setting.”
“Oh, I’m not here to discuss anything legal,” Mira says with a wave of her hand. “Just bringing breakfast for my daughter, like I’m allowed to. And maybe I’m a little interested in the life of our newly-weds.”
“Turn on the TV and watch some reality then,” I snap.
This time Mira fixates on Jenna. “We all know this wedding is a ruse, and just because he fucks you, that doesn’t mean that he’ll keep you and how is this heartbreak any better for Livy, huh?”
“There’s no ruse,” I say, standing up. “And we need to go. So, it’s time to leave, Mira.”
“I will get my daughter back.”
“That’s not happening.”
“You can’t prevent me from getting my daughter back.”
“Watch me.”
Jenna stands up too. “Ms. Kirillov, as my husband’s counsel, I advise against further conversation without your attorney present.”
“He was my husband first,” she says. “And I’m not intimidated by legal jargon before my morning coffee.” She turns back to me. “I’ll have my lawyer call your... lawyer.” She fucking air-quotes the word “lawyer.”
Jenna’s professional mask slips for a moment. “If you’re insinuating something improper, I suggest you consider the legal definition of defamation.”
“I’m not insinuating anything,” she says with faux innocence. “Just making an observation.”
“Mira,” I say. “Leave.”
She sighs dramatically. “Fine. I’ll say goodbye to Livy.”
Before I can stop her, Mira flips on the camera and dashes around, capturing every corner of the house as she films. I trail behind her, arms crossed, watching her document the bathroom, the guest room, the bedroom—just as I expected.
“She won’t find a thing,” Jenna whispers to me.
“I know, it’s ridiculous how predictable she is.”
“Well,” Jenna sighs. “That was…”
“Simply Mira,” I finish for her, as if her name alone explains everything. In a way, it really does.
This shitshow lasts ten more moments but Mira can’t find a single thing that screams “fake marriage” and she thankfully decides to leave us alone again.
We hear an exaggerated “Goodbye, baby!” and she’s gone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was coming.”
“That was her plan… but it’s good that we… we…” Jenna pauses, and I notice her cheeks flush. I can’t help but grin as I gently grasp her chin. “Solnyshko, you’re not telling me that our little couch moment makes you blush, are you?”
She looks away, but a small smile betrays her. “Colton, I… I’m sorry.”
“And now you think I didn’t enjoy it? Sometimes you’re a bit delusional, you know that?” Her green gaze flicks up to meet mine.
“It makes everything more complicated.”
“It just saved us. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if she’d caught us sleeping in different beds.”
“Daddy! I’m finished!” Livy screams, and for some reason, I jerk upright. I’m touching my wife—not a stranger. Not anymore. “Coming!” I call back.
“I need to hurry up, anyway,” Jenna says. “I need to change before heading to the office.”
And so, we stand awkwardly facing each other, unsure how to say goodbye now. Kiss? Hug? Have things changed.
I don’t know, and I think Jenna doesn’t either. She simply smiles and retreats back to her room.