Step Aside: Dear Ex

Episode6

Thora’s POV

I slammed the hospital door so hard as I walked down the hall, my heart beating so loud and fast, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything Luke had said.

“You weren’t a pawn. You were the weapon.”

Weapon?

How could he say that, Quentin had already broken me….. and now this?

I stood against the wall as I tried catching my breath, but the anger within me burned like fire.

I had been foolish—again.

Quentin destroyed me with lies. Luke destroyed me with truths. They both broke me.

"This cannot happen again," I said, holding back my tears. Neither of them can see me cry-not again.

At home, I poured a glass of wine, though I knew I shouldn’t with the baby kicking inside me. The irony made me laugh bitterly. Everything in my life is messed. I was supposed to be strong, but take look at myself, I'm broken, drunk and feeling completely hopeless.

Avis sat at the dining table. She looked up at me, her face looking worried.

“Mommy, why are you sad again?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m not sad, sweetheart.” I answered.

She turned her head towards me, staring at me like she could hear the lie in my voice. “Is it because of Daddy?”

Her voice was soft, cautious, like she knew saying his name could c***k me open.

I forced a smile. “No, baby. Not anymore.”

But as I said it, my phone vibrated on the counter. I checked and it was a message from an unknown number..."You think you can run, but you’ll always be mine." – Q

My stomach turned.

I put the phone face down and crossed the room to join Avis. She held up her drawing—three stick figures holding hands: her, me, and Luke. Quentin was nowhere in sight.

“Do you like it, Mommy?”

I froze. “Who told you to draw this?”

She replied innocently. “Nobody. I just… I like him. He makes you smile sometimes.”

The glass in my hand nearly slipped. Smile? Luke? I wanted to tear the paper in half, scream that Luke was no savior, that he was just another Palmer who would rip us apart. But I couldn’t. She was just a child, craving stability.

Instead, I kissed her forehead. “It’s beautiful, baby. Thank you.”

Later that night as I sat down at my desk and was scrolling through the news articles that I wished didn’t exist.

The media had already caught a blurry photo of me leaving the hospital earlier. My face burned with anger as I read the comments.

“She moves fast. From husband to brother.”

“Quentin was right—she’s a gold digger.”

“Poor child, dragged between two men.”

My laptop screen blurred with rage. I slammed it shut.

“God, when will they leave me alone?” I muttered into the silence.

But silence didn’t last long. A soft knock at the door made my blood run cold.

At this hour?

I seized the closest object on the counter--a vase--and stole into the door.

“Who’s there?”

No answer. Just another knock.

“Thora, it’s me. Open up.”

Luke.

I wished to scream, to hurl the vase at the door and to say never to show your face in my life. But Avis was asleep up-stairs, and no sooner did I want a shouting-match to rouse her than I desired to sleep myself. I just opened the door so that I could see his face. His eyes bore a wearied look and his hair was disorderly and his suit? It was rumpled. He looked nothing like the polished billionaire the media worshiped.

“What exactly do you want?” I asked with a cold voice.

“To explain.”

I laughed harshly. “Explain? You already explained. I’m your weapon. End of story.”

Before I could prevent him he pushed the door open and stepped in.

“Don’t twist my words.” His voice was low, steady. “Yes, I used you to hurt Quentin. At first. But that’s not what this is anymore.”

“Really?” I folded my arms. “Because thats exactly how it feels.”

His jaw clenched. You do not think I do not care about you? About Avis? You think this is just revenge for me?

Thora, I—”

“Stop!” I snapped. Every word he had said caused my heart to ache. “Don’t say you love me. Don’t you dare. I’ve heard enough lies dressed as love.”

The room was filled with silence. He became dump-founded, and for once, he didn’t fight back.

Instead, he walked to the table where Avis had left her drawing. He picked it up gently, like it was glass.

“She drew this?” he asked softly.

“Yes. And it means nothing. Don’t think it does.”

Still he looked at it like it was something special, and seeing this made my chest ache.

“She sees me,” he whispered. “Not as your weapon. Not as Quentin’s enemy. Just as… someone who cares.”

I pulled the paper from his hand, holding it against his chest. “Get out.”

The agony of his eyes filled him, and still he did not go. He came nearer and his breath was blowing in my ear.

“Hate me all you want. But I’m not leaving. Not when I know Quentin’s still out there, plotting. Not when I know you’re carrying my child.”

The words slammed into me like a bullet.

My heart stopped. My hands trembled.

I hadn’t told him. I hadn’t told anyone.

“How… how do you know?” My voice cracked.

He looked at me, unblinking. “Look Thora, I’m not stupid. I did my research and I know the truth.”

My knees went weak. To be steady I held onto the edge of the table.

You know nothing, I said, but my voice gave me the lie.

He withdrew, and gave me a room, his eyes softer now. “I know enough. And I know I’m not leaving you to fight him alone.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again on the counter. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t stop myself.

A voicemail alert.

When I pressed play, Quentin’s voice poured through the speaker, smooth and venomous.

“You’ll never escape me, Thora. Luke’s lying to you. I’ll prove it. Ask him about five years ago.” The air drained from my lungs.

I looked up at Luke. His jaw tightened, and he looked away.

And with the silence, I could tell this time Quentin wasn’t lying.