Chapter 39 39
“I’m not sure, Miss Olivia,” Duke said at last.
That was all it took.
Olivia ended the call without a word.
She hurled the phone across the bathroom. It smashed against the mirror with a sharp crack, sliding down into the sink as water sprayed everywhere.
Her chest rose and fell violently.
Steam wrapped around her like smoke, her eyes burning with something far darker than jealousy.
She pressed her palms to the glass, head bowed, a slow smile twisting her lips.
“My mind will remain restless,” she whispered hoarsely, voice shaking with fury, “till I hunt you down.”
Her reflection stared back at her—distorted, feral.
“And you’ll pay the full price.”
The water kept running.
Blair finally got home the next evening.
Her body ached with exhaustion, her head still buzzing from everything that had happened—the chaos, the waiting, the fear she hadn’t allowed herself to feel until it was over. They’d been forced to stay the night, She’d barely slept.
The moment she dropped her bag, she didn’t even change.
She turned right back around and headed out.
The daycare was quiet when she arrived, the sun already dipping low. Through the glass doors, she spotted him instantly.
.
The second he saw her, his face lit up like she’d hung the stars herself.
“Mommy!”
He broke away from his caregiver and ran straight into her arms.
Blair dropped to her knees just in time to catch him. His small arms wrapped tightly around her neck, his face pressing into her shoulder like he was afraid she might disappear again.
“I missed you,” he said softly, voice muffled. “I waited.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“I’m here,” she whispered, holding him closer, breathing him in like air. “I’m sorry I was gone, baby. Mommy’s here now.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, little hands cupping her face seriously. “You’re tired.”
She smiled, eyes burning. “Yeah. But I’m okay.”
He nodded, satisfied, then hugged her again—harder this time.
Blair closed her eyes.
“Let’s go home,” Blair said softly, lifting Maverick into her arms.
He nodded, then suddenly frowned, his little brows pulling together the way they always did when he was thinking hard.
“Mommy…” he said quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I missed ice cream.”
Her heart squeezed.
“Ice cream?” she echoed gently.
“Yes,” he said, voice small but hopeful. “The one with the chocolate on top.
Blair slowed her steps.
She adjusted him on her hip, forcing a smile even as her chest tightened. She reached into her pocket, fingers brushing against a few crumpled bills and coins.
Chicken change.
The money she’d earned from the event was already gone—transferred straight into savings. Rent didn’t wait. Bills didn’t care about cravings or tired children.
“I know, baby,” she said softly. “Mommy loves that one too.”
Maverick looked up at her, eyes searching her face. “Can we buy it today?”
She swallowed.
“Not today,” she admitted gently. “Maybe another day, okay?”
His lips puckered into a small pout. He looked down, swinging his legs slightly.
“Oh.”
Blair stopped walking.
She bent a little, pressing her forehead to his. “I promise,” she whispered. “When Mommy gets paid again, I’ll buy you the biggest one. Deal?”
He thought about it for a second.
Then he nodded. “Deal.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek, quick and trusting. “I still love you.”
That nearly broke her.
Blair hugged him tighter and kept walking, her steps steady even as her thoughts grew heavy.
Blair’s steps slowed as they crossed the road, Maverick’s small hand gripping hers tightly.
How am I supposed to tell you, she thought bitterly, that your dad could buy you a million ice cream shops without blinking?
The thought hit her chest like a dull ache.
She glanced down at Maverick—at the way he carefully watched the traffic lights, the way he hummed softly to himself, content with promises instead of guarantees.
He deserved more.
So much more.
But she tightened her grip on his hand and kept walking, forcing the thought back down where it belonged.
“Careful,” she murmured, guiding him to the curb.
He looked up at her and smiled, bright and unburdened. “You’re holding my hand too tight, Mommy.”
She loosened it instantly. “Sorry.”
He squeezed her fingers instead. “It’s okay. I won’t let go.”
Her throat tightened.
If only it were that simple.
Blair finally reached her apartment building, legs tired, arms aching from holding Maverick, but her heart lighter from the small moments of joy along the way.
As she fumbled with her keys, a voice called out from the sidewalk.
“Miss Rivers?”
She looked up to see one of her neighbors, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, waving frantically.
“Someone called your landline,” the neighbor said, pointing toward the small building entrance. “Said it was urgent—kept asking for you.”
Blair’s brow furrowed. “Urgent?”
The neighbor shrugged, still holding Maverick’s backpack she had grabbed for him. “That’s all they said. They didn’t leave a message, just kept insisting you pick up.”
Blair let out a long breath, her mind already spinning.
“Thanks,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’ll check it.”
Maverick tugged at her sleeve. “Mommy, is it bad?”
She knelt quickly, ruffling his hair. “No, baby. Just someone trying to reach me. Nothing to worry about.”
Blair set to work in the small kitchen, flour dusting the counter and a sweet, warm smell filling the air.
Maverick perched on a stool, watching her carefully. “Mommy, can we put extra chocolate chips?” he asked eagerly.
“Of course, baby,” Blair said, smiling despite the fatigue tugging at her shoulders.
She rolled the dough, cut shapes, and placed them on the tray while Maverick hummed softly, his small hands helping as best he could.
But then she the soft, wistful voice of her son.
“I wish Daddy was here,” he murmured. “He’d probably help us put the sprinkles on. And he’d tell me funny stories…”
Blair froze, heart tightening.
Her hands trembled as she tried to measure chocolate chips.
“Don’t… don’t talk like that,” she muttered, voice low but harsh.
Maverick’s gaze flicked up at her, wide and innocent.
“But Mommy—”
She snapped.
“Your daddy is never coming back!” she shouted, flour-covered hands clenched around the rolling pin. “He’s engaged, he’s… he’s not ours anymore!”