lullabies to me. I’m trying that late at night. I hold my belly and try to sing lullabies instead of crying. I’m trying so hard, but I’m afraid I’m already failing.
I don’t think I can be with someone who isn’t willing to stop doing what he knows is wrong. It’s not just me anymore.
But it gets worse.
I can’t stop loving him. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mom. I could use your lullabies right now.
Chapter 8
Evan
Threats can make you weak,
To think of what’s to come.
To avoid seeing what’s here and now,
Living life as if you’re numb.
The lies are spinning webs,
To trap and hold you still.
The sinners hiding in plain sight,
Hold your fate against your will.
New York City is a sight that never fails to impress. It’s a mix of things—the nightlife, the skyscrapers, the people themselves. But winter is when it’s the most beautiful, I think.
Only the trees are wrapped with Christmas lights this early in November, but soon everything will be covered in white and blue lights. The shop windows in Rockefeller Center will be decorated with luxe details and high-end staging, and people will come from around the world to see it.
It’s stunning, but what’s best about it, is the crowds. During the winter months, this block is constantly packed. That’s exactly what I need right now.
I need to remove one of my gloves to turn on my phone and check the messages. My foot taps on the hard cobblestone beneath my feet as I wait on an iron bench.
The phone goes off in my hand and I stare at the message from my father.
Just a bit overworked because of my dumbass son.
Are you sure you’re all right? I ask him and ignore the insult.
It’s fine.
If you went to the hospital, I text him, it must’ve been bad. On the subway here, I got the message from my father that he was being released. He said he felt light-headed in the grocery store and the manager called an ambulance. He said they were just being dramatic, but I know my father. He’s stubborn and hates hospitals.
I’m fine. Go make it right with your wife, he tells me, and I have to tear my eyes away from the phone.
I’m trying.
I hesitate to tell him, but the heat flowing through my veins begs me to text my father. She’s pregnant. I can’t help it. I’m so fucking proud. Like I did something amazing for the first time in my life.
His response is immediate.
Thank God. Now she has to forgive you, right? he texts back, and I let a small chuckle escape.
I wish it were that easy. That’s not how it works, Pops.
He messages back, It’s Pop-Pop now. I’m so happy for you two. You better make it right with her.
My phone pings again and this time it’s not my father, it’s the person I’ve been waiting for. I’m here.
A few children shriek with laughter as they run by me and I lift my eyes, watching them chase each other. That’s when I see her. Samantha.
I shove the phone in my pocket, stand up and put my glove back on, then shove my hands into my coat pockets as I walk toward her.
“Thank you for meeting me.” Sam greets me with bright red cheeks that match the tip of her nose. Her hair’s been blown around her face by the wind, even though she has on a white cable knit beanie and a matching scarf. She slips her phone into her fur-trimmed jacket and declares, “I feel like I’m being paranoid.”
I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. The only reason I agreed is because I have questions as to who could have broken in and if she has a lead on anything at all. I’ve got nothing and no one. There’s not a soul in the industry I’d trust with this information, sure as hell not with the cops on my ass for murder. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“James messaged me and said what happened to Tony could happen to me. He told me to lay off the demands for the divorce.” Her bottom lip quivers and again she glances over her shoulder.
“As in … an overdose?”
“I don’t know.” She takes a deep breath and looks to her left and right as her face crumples. “I think … I think he was threatening to kill me.”
Anger threads itself through me as the woman in front of me breaks down. “Are you all right?” She shakes