Chapter 10: The Confrontation
That day, Natalie went with me. When Derek opened the door and saw Natalie, he frowned.
The apartment was cold and pristine, all glass and steel, not a Lego or crayon in sight. Derek’s expression soured the second he spotted Natalie’s familiar face.
He probably doesn't like Natalie. Of course, Natalie likes him even less.
She stared him down, jaw clenched, her purse slung like a shield across her chest.
Derek let me in but tried to block Natalie at the door.
He angled his body like a bouncer at a dive bar, silent and unmoving. I froze in the entryway, unsure who I was supposed to follow.
I was startled, immediately ran out, and stuck close to Natalie. Honestly, I'm a little scared of Derek.
I latched onto her elbow, heart pounding. Her steady presence was the only thing keeping me upright.
Derek is too tall, has too much presence, and most importantly, I don't remember him at all.
He filled the doorway with his frame—broad shoulders, pressed suit, the kind of guy who could win a boardroom or a bar fight.
I clung to Natalie. If she didn't go in, neither would I. Derek's face instantly darkened.
He looked like he was used to getting his way and didn’t know what to do with my stubbornness.
"Jessica Carter, if you want to see the kids today, you have to come in alone."
His tone was cold, like he was laying down the law in his own house.
"Forget it then, I won't see them."
I shook my head like crazy, scared to death. What kind of person is this!
I turned to Natalie, gripping her hand tighter. No way was I walking into that lion’s den alone.
I pulled Natalie to leave. Derek was so angry he laughed.
His laughter echoed down the hallway, sharp and mean, but I refused to look back.
"Jessica Carter, what do you mean? Am I that scary?"
His voice followed me, but I kept my eyes on the exit sign.
Of course he's scary. He's almost 6'3", big and strong. One punch from him and I'd be knocked into the wall, never to get out.
Natalie shot him a glare over her shoulder. "You're not scary, Derek. You're just not worth her time." She led me down the hall, her steps sure and steady, and I followed—because with Natalie, I always felt safe.
As the elevator doors slid shut, I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and wondered—what kind of mother forgets her own children?
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