CHAPTER 7: DON’T BE SELFISH

Nancy’s POV

A week had passed. Liam’s operation was successful and he could even walk now. He was still in pain but he was healing really fast. All thanks to the blood Andrew had donated.  It was a minor operation and most of the complications came from the fact that he was bleeding internally. If I hadn’t been able to get to Andrew… or if he didn’t believe me and had refused to come to the hospital, Liam would be dead right now.

A shudder went through me from the thought of it.

Andrew had him moved to a different hospital A fancier hospital where Liam would be more comfortable and he took care of all the bills, no matter how hard I begged him not to. Liam might have been Andrew’s son and Andrew had an obligation to take care of him, I knew that, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel weird all the same.

For four years, I had been the one taking care of my son, paying for his expenses, sending him to school. Andrew being in our lives now changed things, forever. I felt weird and strangely indebted to him.

What was worse was I hadn’t forgotten the threat Andrew made the last time we were in the same room alone. We hadn’t talked much after that. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand the sight of him. I didn’t trust him. There was a feeling of dread that swelled in my stomach every day, telling me Andrew was going to take my son away from me one day.

The wheels in my mind turned every time he was near. I was constantly looking for away to get my son and my family away from this city and away from Andrew. I wanted to start fresh, because there was nothing more painful than the thought of Andrew taking my son away from me. I knew he had the power to do it. It was only a matter of time.

He was rich, he had connections. He would someday get married to a woman equally as rich as him and I would be left in the slums, in the dirt, poor and in an unstable family. It wouldn’t even be a fight. Child services would prefer Liam lived with Andrew. I had to find a way to get my family away from him. I had to disappear again. This time for good.

My brother was at work and so was my mother. It was just me in and Liam in his hospital room. He was watching cartoons while I stroked his hair.

I was brushing Liam’s curls away from his forehead when the door to his hospital room opened. My heart sank before I even looked.

Andrew.

He stood there like he owned the place, in his tailored suit, expensive watch, presence filling the room without him having to say a word. He always looked out of place here, like the hospital walls were too small to contain him. In his hands were two paper bags and a small toy box.

Liam’s eyes lit up instantly. He was always in a good mood when Andrew came to visit. “Mom! The toy man is back!”

Andrew’s lips twitched, just barely. He crouched down to Liam’s level, setting the box on the bed. “Hey, champ. How are you feeling today?”

Liam shrugged. “My tummy still hurts a little, but I am stronger.” He puffed out his chest proudly. “The doctor said I’m brave.”

Andrew smiled, really smiled this time, and something painful twisted in my chest.

“He’s right. You’re very brave.” He said to Liam.

He opened the toy box, pulling out a small dinosaur figurine and a puzzle. Liam gasped like it was Christmas morning.

“For me?” he asked.

“For you,” Andrew said softly.

I hated how natural he looked sitting there. How easily he fit into my son’s world. Like he belonged.

Andrew sat on the edge of the bed, handing Liam the toys and then the bag of fruit. “I brought apples and bananas. Your mom said you like those.”

“I love bananas!” Liam announced proudly, already distracted.

I watched them quietly, my nails digging into my palms. Andrew had been coming every day since the surgery. Every single day. Sometimes twice. Always with gifts, always gentle, always careful not to cross the line I’d drawn.

Liam still didn’t know that Andrew was his father. And if I had my way, he never would. I had told Andrew to wait until after Liam was fully healed.

Andrew looked up at me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

My stomach tightened. I nodded stiffly. “I’ll be right back,” I told Liam. “Don’t make a mess.”

“I won’t!” he chirped, already roaring his dinosaur.

Andrew followed me into the hallway and gently closed the door behind us.

The silence was heavy.

“I spoke to the doctor,” he said. “They think Liam can be discharged in two days.”

I swallowed. “That’s good.”

“And after that?” His eyes searched my face. “Where are you taking him?”

“Home,” I replied quickly. Too quickly.

Andrew studied me, and I hated that he could still read me so easily. “Nancy… your home.”

My jaw tightened. “What about it?”

He exhaled slowly. “I’ve looked into it.”

My blood went cold. “You what?”

“Relax,” he said, holding up a hand. “I didn’t send anyone. I didn’t invade your privacy. I asked questions. I made calls.”

“That’s the same thing! You had no right!” I snapped.

“You live in a two-bedroom apartment with our son, your mom, and brother. In a building with mold problems and unreliable electricity and a lot of security problems” he continued calmly. “Your neighborhood isn’t safe. Especially not for a child who just came out of surgery.”

I crossed my arms defensively. “We’ve managed just fine for four years, Andrew. I don’t need you meddling in my life!”

“You’ve barely been managing,” he said, not unkindly. “And you shouldn’t have to.”

Here it comes.

“I want to get you a house,” he said. “Somewhere safe. Somewhere with space. Somewhere Liam can recover properly.”

My laugh came out sharp and humorless. “Absolutely not.”

“Nancy…”

“No,” I cut him off. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want your houses. I don’t want your charity.”

“It’s not charity,” he snapped. “It’s responsibility towards my child!”

“I didn’t ask for your responsibility,” I shot back. “I asked for your blood. You gave it. End of story.”

His eyes darkened. “You really think this ends here?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, even though my hands were shaking. “That’s exactly what I think.”

Andrew took a step closer. “He’s my son.”

“And he’s my life,” I whispered fiercely. “Everything I have. Everything I am.”

“I can give him more.”

“You don’t get it,” I said, my voice cracking despite my efforts. “Every time you say things like that, you remind me why I can’t let you stay. You make it sound like I’m not enough.”

His expression softened, just a little. “That’s not what I mean.”

“It’s what you say,” I replied. “And I won’t let my son grow up thinking his mother wasn’t good enough because she didn’t have your money.”

Andrew ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. “Don’t be selfish, Nancy. Liam can have a better life. Are you really going to deprive him of that because of your pride? Because you don’t trust me? You’re being unreasonable.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I’m his mother.”

“And I’m his father,” he said quietly.

The word hung between us, heavy and dangerous.

“Not to him,” I said. “And if I have anything to say about it, never to him.”

Something broke in his eyes.

“You’re going to run again,” he said slowly. “Aren’t you?”

My breath caught.

“I see it in your face,” he continued. “You’re already planning it. Where to go. How to disappear.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

“You’re terrified,” he said. “And instead of fighting, instead of seeing how we can work this out, you’re preparing to flee.”

“Because fighting you would be stupid,” I whispered. “You already told me what you’re capable of.”

His jaw clenched. “I said that because you pushed me into a corner.”

“And you terrified me,” I shot back. “So, congratulations. It worked.”

We stared at each other, years of pain and resentment vibrating in the air. He looked me up and down and closed the distance between us. I breathed heavily as I looked up at him, standing my ground, my chest moving up and down.

“I’m not letting you take him away from me,” Andrew said finally.

“And I’m not letting you take him from me either,” I replied.

Neither of us blinked.

From inside the room, Liam’s laughter echoed down the hallway.

And I knew, with terrifying clarity, that time was running out.