Chapter 45
Rafael sits on the chair in the corner of the room, watching me feed Hudson. His eyes bore into me, and I know he’s still angry, and I don’t blame him, but I’m angry too. I’m trapped in a life I want, but as the person I don’t want to be.
He spreads his legs wide, and his erection peeks out from the top of his boxers, and I squirm under his possessive scrutiny.
Once he finished washing me last night, he wrapped me in towels, sat me on the counter, and brushed my teeth. Then he spread my legs, plugged my pussy, followed by brushing my hair, then placed me in bed. He didn’t join me, instead he pulled a chair into the corner of the room beside the nursery and told me to go to sleep. I was too tired to argue and fell into a deep slumber until he woke me half an hour ago for Hudson’s 2:00 a.m. feeding.
Sighing, I stroke over the top of Hudson’s head as his sleepy mouth barely suckles any longer, then I let my nipple slip from his lips while I place him on my shoulder to pat his back. Rafael’s sharp intake of breath has me stilling. When I glance in his direction, his hand is stroking over the fabric of his cock, and I can’t say that I’m disappointed. I relish it, in fact.
“Could you take him from me?”
His hand stops, and he jumps up from the chair. “Of course. Come on, little man.” The nickname he uses warms me; it’s the same one I use for Oliver. Rafael slips his hand between me and Hudson, expertly positioning him against his chest as he strides back toward the nursery.
“When can I see Oliver?”
He stills on my words, and my heart plummets at the way his muscles tense under the dim lighting.
“I’ve missed him, Rafael.”
He scoffs. “Did you just decide that?”
I grind my jaw so hard my teeth ache, but I allow his comment, and he continues into the nursery, whispering to Hudson softly.
Slipping the strap of my camisole back in place, I glance up toward the doorway to find Rafael watching me, his jaw stubbornly set. “You broke my son’s heart, Ellie.”
My breath hitches, and I swallow back the tears threatening to spill over. I knew I would hurt Oliver by leaving, but I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us, and when I found out I was pregnant, it only solidified that decision. I didn’t want my baby to be brought up in the same cruel world. I didn’t want him to become the bastard child who would be an outcast. He deserved more; we both did.
“What about you?”
He reels back, and his eyes narrow. “What about me?”
“You said I broke Oliver’s heart. What about yours?”
His Adam’s apple slowly slides down his throat. “Is that what you need to hear, Little Doll? That I cried for you?” His tone has turned mocking, and it angers me that he’s turning this into something so trivial.
“Don’t be an ass, Rafael,” I snipe back. “You made me the other woman and expected me to be happy with it, without any discussion or thought as to how I felt. You knew my feelings on that. I told you!” I point at him as my voice rises.
“There was never another woman.” He steps forward, closing the nursery door behind him. “There was only ever you,” he grits out.
I scoff a patronizing laugh. “You have a fucking wife, Rafael! You have a family I’m not a part of.”
“Is that why you left? Mm, because of that fucking photo?” He tilts his head from side to side as if trying to understand me. “You broke our fucking hearts over a photo.” His admission at his heart breaking is lost on me because he’s missing the point.
“No.”
“No? Then help me fucking understand why you did what you did and stole my baby from me.” The veins on his temple pulsate, every vein protruding ferociously.
“You lied to me; you told me your wife was dead!” I scream back at him.
“She’s fucking dead to me!” He points to his chest.
I shake my head at his half-ass comment. “But she’s very much alive, Rafael. She’s Oliver’s mother, and she’s the one by your side, not me. She’s the one your son will call mommy, not me. And where does that leave me, huh? Your whore?” He flinches, but I continue. “Your mistress. The one person I never wanted to be.” My voice crumbles, but I clear my throat. “Where does that leave our son? A bastard?”
“Don’t you fucking call him that!” he snipes back at me, his stare murderous. “Don’t you dare call him that!”
A strangled laugh catches in my throat. “That’s what he is. That’s what we will always be. Nothing more.”
“My children will stand by my side. They’ll be my fucking legacy, each and every one of them equal.” He drags a hand through his hair. “Just like my father did with us.”
“I saw you leave her room, Rafael.” My lip wobbles. “You didn’t sleep with me, but you left her room the next morning, then fucked me after.” My breath hitches from clogged emotion, but I continue on, knowing I have to get it all out to justify my actions. “I heard her say ‘Go and wash away your sins, Rafael. Go and wash away my touch.’”
Rafael blinks, then blinks again, as if stupefied. “Jesus. You think I fucked her?” His face twists in disgust.
“I went in there to fucking threaten her, Ellie.” He waves his hand toward the door.
“I went in there and got exactly what I wanted.”
My throat goes dry. “Wh-what did you want?”
“Full custody of Oliver.”
My heart races erratically.
“She had one fucking request. She wanted me to take her to some fucking event as a family. Said it was to have one last day with Oliver.”
Tears fall down my cheeks, and I swipe them away. “She played us,” I snivel.
Rafael grinds his jaw. “Yeah, she fucking did.” Then he sighs heavily. “If you’d have come to me. Fucking asked me, Ellie. I could have told you! I wouldn’t have missed your pregnancy, missed my son’s birth. Have you any fucking idea how that makes me feel?” He stabs his finger into his chest, and guilt combined with sickness rushes through me.
“I’m so sorry.” My eyes search his, desperate for his forgiveness.
He swallows harshly as he stares back at me with hurt and fury, both of them justified.
My heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the realization. “I’m so sorry, Rafael.”