Chapter 81 I’ll Come Back for You
Andrew rolled his eyes. Exaggerated. Bored.
He stepped left.
She mirrored him.
“Move,” he said. Flat. Final.
“No.” She planted her feet wider. “I’m not moving until I say what I need to say. And when I do move, I’m moving out of your life. Completely. And I’m taking our son.”
Andrew laughed— short, soft, disbelieving.
“You can leave whenever you want.” He leaned in slightly. “But my son stays. You try to take him, that’s kidnapping. Try it. Watch how fast I destroy you. And that’s even without touching the contract. If I decide to use it?” He smiled thinly. “I’ll bury you completely in the ground.”
He straightened.
“Now move. Before I move you.”
Maggie didn’t budge.
Andrew’s patience snapped.
He grabbed her upper arms— hard— lifted and shoved. Her back hit the wall with a dull thud. Plaster dust sifted down. Pain exploded across her shoulder blades.
She cried out— sharp, involuntary.
Andrew released her. She crumpled to the floor, gasping.
He didn’t look back.
“I warned you,” he said over his shoulder.
His footsteps receded down the hall— calm, even, unhurried— until the sound disappeared around the corner.
Maggie remained on the floor for a long time, one hand pressed against her throbbing back, the other curled into a fist on the rug.
Somewhere deep in the house, a clock chimed the quarter hour.
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, fresh tears slid down her cheeks. In that moment, she knew she was trapped in a game she could never win.
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The hallway floor was cold against Maggie’s palms as she pushed herself up. Her left shoulder throbbed— sharp, bone-deep— where it had slammed the wall. She cupped it with her right hand, fingers digging into the tender muscle, while her left sleeve dragged across her eyes, smearing the fresh tears that kept pooling. Her breath came in shallow, stuttering pulls. She stood slowly, swaying once, then steadied herself against the wainscoting.
Without looking back toward the guest wing, she turned and walked— each step deliberate, mechanical— back to the master bedroom. The door was still ajar from earlier. She slipped inside and closed it with both hands, the latch clicking like a period at the end of a sentence she no longer wanted to read.
Thirty minutes later the door opened again.
Maggie stepped out wearing the same jeans and sweater from that afternoon, but now a small black canvas backpack hung from both shoulders. The straps cut into her collarbones. Her face was scrubbed clean of mascara tracks, though the skin around her eyes stayed swollen and pink. She moved down the corridor without hesitation, past closed doors and dim sconces, until she reached Pete’s room.
She turned the knob slowly, easing the door inward so the hinges wouldn’t squeak.
Inside, the bedside lamp spilled warm yellow light across the navy comforter. Pete lay on his side, knees drawn up, dark curls fanned across the pillow and half covering one closed eye. His chest rose and fell in the slow, even rhythm of deep sleep. A small plastic dinosaur— green, one arm missing— rested in the curl of his fingers.
Maggie crossed the rug on socked feet. She lowered herself to the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle him. For ten full minutes she simply watched: the flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, the tiny twitch of his mouth when he dreamed, the way his fingers flexed once around the toy as though holding her hand instead.
Her throat closed. She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Mommy loves you so much.” The words cracked on the last syllable. “It breaks my heart— God, it breaks my heart— to leave you again, my baby. You that I only just got back after your dad kept you away from me.”
She lifted a trembling hand and brushed the curls off his forehead with the lightest touch. His skin was warm, soft. She leaned down and pressed her lips to the center of his brow— lingering, inhaling the clean shampoo smell of him. When she pulled back, Pete exhaled a small, sleepy sound, almost a sigh.
Maggie’s smile flickered, then shattered. Tears spilled over. She wiped them away with the heel of her hand.
“Mommy loves you,” she whispered again, voice shaking. “I’ll always love you— till I die. But I have to go find myself. Find who I used to be before… before everything went blank. I can’t do that here. Not under the same roof as those two monsters.” She swallowed. “I wish— I wish more than anything— I could scoop you up and run with you right now. But if I take you, they’ll say it’s kidnapping. They’ll use every piece of paper they have to make sure I never see you again. So I have to go alone. But I promise you, baby— I promise— I’ll be back. I’ll fight. I’ll fix this. I’ll come back for you.”
She sat there another full minute, memorizing him: the curve of his ear, the faint freckle on his temple, the way his lashes threw tiny shadows on his cheeks. Then she stood.
She watched him ten seconds more.
She turned.
She walked out.