Chapter 3 #2
“I think you know.”
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CASSIA
When I heard Erisa scream, my entire body jolted as if I’d touched a live wire. Ivy had the same reaction and glared at the doorway before she took another bite of her dinner. Erisa had been home with Ivy and me all day, which wasn’t part of our normal routine, and the change irked Ivy.
At first, it was fine and she was excited to have another playmate, but when Erisa got a phone call from her previous employer and her shouting woke Ivy up from her morning nap, things went downhill.
Now, Ivy and I were both in need of a break from the dramatics.
I was almost positive that if I explained to a jury what we’d been putting up with since my sister lost her job, they would set me free even if I did commit a heinous crime against her.
“How are we related?” Iliana asked with a grimace, wiggling a finger in her ear. “I think she ruptured my ear hole.”
“It scares me that you’re a college student and call it an ‘ear hole,’” I said as Erisa slid around the corner with a look of pure horror.
“My hair is a mess! Why didn’t you tell me that I look like . . . Oh! My! God!”
“What is wrong with you?” I asked as I ran my hand over my face. “I swear if you . . .”
“Memphis Forrester is standing on our front porch!” Erisa squealed.
My heart stopped before it started racing. I pressed my hand to my chest in horror as I wondered what the hell was going on. I knew the truth the second I heard Iliana ask, “He’s already here?”
“What do you mean ‘already,’ Iliana?” I asked, trying very hard to remain calm.
“When I wasn’t answering my phone last week, it was because I went to Rojo to tell Memphis about Ivy.”
“You did what?”
“Is that true?” Erisa gasped. “Memphis Forrester is her father?”
“You knew?”
“Well, I wondered. She doesn’t look anything like you or Ivan, and she definitely doesn’t resemble Regina. The timeline fits, so I suspected it was him.”
My head fell forward, and I stared at the floor as my mind raced.
It wasn’t that I wanted Ivy to be without a father; that wasn’t it at all.
I wanted Ivy to have a good father, like Ivan would have been to her.
I wanted her to grow up knowing that there was one man who would never let her down, never leave her, and always be by her side through anything life threw at her.
Like my father was to me.
There was no way in hell some musician–who probably carried around a cocaine straw and had a limitless prescription of antibiotics because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants–could be the father Ivy deserved. And if she couldn’t have the one she deserved, she was better off without one at all.
It was as if Iliana could read my mind. “I researched him, Cassia! He’s not what you think he is!”
“You researched him? Are you kidding me right now, Iliana?”
“I did! I made sure he was a good guy before I even went to Rojo.”
“You sifted through all of the information that his publicist released and believe that’s the truth? Really?” I hissed before I spun toward the door, then whirled around and pointed at my sister. “If I lose Ivy, I will never forgive you, Iliana. Never.”
Iliana had tears streaming down her cheeks, and Erisa looked more afraid than I’d ever seen her as she wrapped her arms around our little sister. I glared at both of them for another few seconds before I turned and yanked the door open.
“Hello.” The face I’d seen on television and in magazines was standing on my porch.
I’d even seen him once in concert, but our seats were cheap; I’d watched him and his bandmates from a distance when I wasn’t looking at the big screen.
But none of the images did justice to the man standing on my porch.
The face looked alarmingly like my daughter’s.
“You must be Cassia. I’m Memphis Forrester.”
“What do you want?”
“I think you know.”
“No, I don’t have any idea why you’re here when you could be somewhere else sleeping with married women.”
He bristled at the accusation before he said, “I have never knowingly slept with a married woman. I’m a better man than that.”
I scoffed. “Sure you are.”
“Do you hate everyone you meet, or do you have something against me personally?”
“Why are you here, Mr. Forrester?”
“Call me Memphis.”
“No.”
“I’m here because a few days ago I found out I have a child, and I want to see her.”
“Also no.”
“I get that you don’t know me, and obviously you think I’m worse than shit on the bottom of your shoe, but I think you should sit down and talk to me. Form an opinion that isn’t based on the media or what your sister told you.”
“My sister didn’t tell me a damn thing, or I wouldn’t be standing here. And my sister-in-law knew better than to brag to me that she cheated on my brother.”
“I understand she wasn’t your favorite person.”
That was an understatement. Right now, I hoped she was roasting in the pits of hell. I didn’t tell him that, though. Instead, I pointed out, “Obviously, she was yours for about two minutes.”
“Come on,” Memphis scoffed. “Let’s sit down and talk like adults, Cassia. Tossing insults at each other isn’t going to change the course of what’s going to happen; it will just make it more difficult to get through.”
“What do you think is gonna happen?” I asked.
“I think that inside there’s a little girl that you love very much who has my eyes, my hair, my dimples, and my DNA.”
“So Iliana says.”
He lifted the folder that had been down at his side before he broke my heart and ripped away every dream I’d had of raising Ivy as my own when he said, “So does the DNA test that I took.”