Chapter 28
Hendricks
Istare at the message one more time.
STORY: This sounds super weird, but I think Sienna is standing outside the school gates.
STORY: Obvs if you already know this, pls ignore.
That was eight minutes ago. I was in the car when the message came through, so I turned around, hit the accelerator, and I’ve been parked in the car park since.
I haven’t seen her in a couple of years, and she’s twenty meters away, but it’s definitely Sienna.
And I confirm as much to my solicitor.
“It’s her. What do I do?”
“It’s not going to hurt to speak to her. Maybe you’ll find out once and for all what’s going on. She’s obviously there for a reason.”
“Yeah, to take Max,” I reply.
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re certain you haven’t heard from her solicitors?”
His reply is frustrated. “I haven’t heard from them, Hendricks.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll call you back,” I say, and hang up.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I run through the list of things she could be wanting, of why she could be here outside Max’s school. There’s only one thing I can come up with, like I said to Arthur, and it’s Max.
It’s every fear I’ve had since he was born come to life.
I’m nothing but a ball of anxiety and nausea. The pressure building inside me is giving me a splitting headache, and I can’t decide whether I’m going to be sick. I do know, however, that sitting in the car watching Sienna isn’t going to make any of it go away.
Better get this over with. Face the dragon.
I open the car door, get out, and close the door without slamming it. I don’t want to alert her or startle her only for her to run off before I reach her.
Sienna’s staring straight ahead as I walk out of the school gates. I expect her to sense movement and look up at some point, but she’s in a trance. I get closer and spot a manila envelope in her hand, the type they use for legal documents.
Legal documents, legal documents. Fuck.
For what has to be the thousandth time today, I take a deep breath.
Not until I’m crossing the road directly in front of her does she register that she’s not alone. There’s not a flicker of surprise on her face either. She’s been waiting for me. She knew I’d come here.
Immediately, I flare up, feeling like I’ve been caught in a trap. “Sienna? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too.” She smiles, and I’m stalled briefly. In my years of hating her, I’d forgotten how pretty she is. Her nose, the same one Max inherited, squashes up as her smile gets wider. Faint creases I don’t remember her having fan around her eyes.
It makes me angrier and more suspicious. “Answer my question.”
“I came to see you.”
“Why? Why here? Why now and not at the offices like you requested?” I snarl. “I waited for two hours, Sienna, and I haven’t heard from you since. What game is this, because I’m not fucking playing. Tell me what you want.”
“It’s not a game,” she replies, and looks genuinely repentant that I’m taken aback for a second. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready to see you, but you should have been told earlier I wasn’t coming. I didn’t realize my solicitors hadn’t informed you.”
“Solicitors I fucking pay for.”
She nods. “Yes. You’re right.”
I don’t know what’s going on here, but the Sienna in front of me isn’t the Sienna I know. The one I’m used to is abrasive, bristly, gearing for a fight over anything and everything.
The best word I can use to describe her mood today is passive, and I honestly don’t know how to take it. It’s making me fucking edgy, that’s for sure.
She’s a barn cat playing with her food before she devours it in one bite, and it takes all my patience not to shake the answer out of her. “Sienna, I’m asking you one more time. What are you doing here?”
She runs her fingers along the edges of the manila envelope, turning it over in her hand, her gaze fixed once more on the school. I wonder if she knows that Max’s classroom is visible from where we are. Or if she’d know which child was Max if she could see them all lined up.
“I tried, you know.”
“Tried what?”
“To be a mother. To want to be a mother, a good one.”
I don’t know what to say. Not a single memory I have would prove this, only the exact opposite. Even throughout her pregnancy, she tried to pretend it didn’t exist, and it only got worse once Max was born.
“Did you?”
The glare she shoots my way is exactly the woman I remember.
It’s also the look Max gets when he has to do something he doesn’t want, and while it doesn’t quite make me laugh, it does help ease some of the tension running through me.
It’s hard to remember that another person made up half of him with me. That Max’s DNA is connected to someone who barely knows him. She has no idea he hates bananas, or that he always ties his shoelaces with the left foot first because he’s right-handed and thinks it balances things out.
She’ll never have the memory of waking up next to him, face smooshed into the pillow, or watching his first time on a pony. She’ll never see the way the dogs follow him around religiously in case he’s got biscuits in his pocket.
She’ll never know about his passion for snails, which is what’s usually in his pocket.
“I guess you won’t let me see him.”
I hold in the scoff. “You guess correctly.”
“Then tell me about him, please. I deserve that.”
I bite my tongue. Do you? I want to say. Do you really believe you deserve to know anything about the child you didn’t want?
But I relent, though I keep it to the bare minimum. “He’s sweet, funny. Getting taller every day. He loves reading, and his current favorite is about a pirate boy. Miles has been teaching him how to play polo—”
She holds her hand up. She’s had enough, whereas I could go on and on and on. I’m almost disappointed she hasn’t proven herself to be different from the person I thought she was.
Her eyes flick from me to the school, then drop to where her hands are in her lap. “I came because I wanted to make sure I was making the right decision. One I’ve been weighing for a long time. I thought maybe if I caught a glimpse of him, that my mind would be swayed in one direction or another—”
My stomach drops to the floor, and my jaw is clenched so tight I can barely get the words out. “Swayed about what?”
She turns her whole body to me. “I’m moving away.
I’ve spent the past twelve months in India building a community over there.
I opened up a yoga retreat, and it’s really turning into something.
” She smiles, peacefully, proudly, but I have no idea what to do with this information.
Am I supposed to congratulate her, or is she about to drop the bomb that she wants Max to move to India with her, because .
. .? “And I’ve decided that’s where my heart is. I don’t want to be in England anymore.”
“Okay.” My eyes narrow, and I get the distinct impression she’s enjoying my misery.
“Relax, Hendricks. I’ve instructed my solicitor to hand over the deed for the London flat to you. And to request your solicitors stop the monthly payments.”
I stare at her, wondering if I’ve heard correctly. I watch her lips move, but the words coming out don’t make any sense. “Sienna—”
“I don’t need or want anything from you, Hendricks. I have to do this by myself.”
Once more, I bite my tongue, declining to mention that opening a yoga studio “by yourself” hardly counts when someone else has funded the entire thing because I assume that’s where all my money went. But, fuck it, if she wants to live in India forever, then I’ll drive her to the airport myself.
“Congratulations.”
Sienna bows her head. “Thank you, it means a lot. Here.” She presses the envelope to my chest and, before I can stop her, leans in to kiss my cheek. “Bye, Hendricks.”
I’m speechless. Tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I watch her walk away.
I hope it’s for good. I pray it’s for good.
It’s different from any interaction we’ve ever had before, that’s for sure.
I want to latch on to the little bubble of hope growing in my belly, and I’m tempted to go into the school just so I can see Max, to hold him and kiss him.
It’s only caution that stops me because he’d know something was up, beyond me being a weird dad. And I never ever want Max to know anything about what happened until he’s old enough to understand.
So I walk back to my car, much less angry than I left it. Once my heart has settled into a steadier beat, I call Arthur back.
“What happened?”
“She’s moving to India,” I reply and reiterate the financial aspect.
“That’s . . . um, unusual.”
“She also gave me an envelope, but I haven’t opened it.” I’m too scared.
“Go ahead, we can deal with it.”
Twisting open the fastening at the top, there’s a single sheet of paper inside, and I pull it out.
It’s an official government document, but I scan the words so quickly that it’s hard to take in what they say, let alone what they mean. I’m reading it again for the third time when Arthur reminds me he’s on speakerphone.
“Hendricks, are you still there?”
“Yes, sorry . . . the top of the page says it’s an adoption order . . . I think . . . Arthur, she’s signing away all rights to Max as being her son. Can that be right?” I scan it again in disbelief.
I’m certain that’s what it says, but it’s also too good to be true. And sad, so desperately sad.
“Can you read the page to me?” he asks, so I do, starting from the top and without skipping anything in case it’s vital.
“Okay, I’m going to send a courier to you right now to collect this in person, but can you get home and scan it to me so I can read it before the original arrives?
Then I’ll contact her team. He’ll be with you in two hours. ”
I nod. I don’t even realize tears are streaming down my face until they fall onto my lap in big wet globs.
“Hendricks?”
“Sorry . . . yes, give me ten minutes, and I’ll send it. Thanks, Arthur.”
“Congratulations. This is a good day for you all.”
Carefully slipping the paper back into the envelope, I turn the engine on and head home.