CHAPTER FIVE
734 Words
Tessa’s POV
The door slammed in my face, and for a moment, I just stood there, staring at it.
They had really kicked me out. Out of the house I bought and paid for.
The weight of the past five years pressed down on my chest like bricks. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Tyler had never defended me before, so why would he start now? His mother had always treated me like I was disposable, and tonight, she’d finally proven it—literally tossing me out of the home I had bought.
I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to stay calm.
Fine.
Let them have it. Let them rot in that damn apartment together.
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and turned on my heel, making my way toward the elevator. My fingers curled around the check in my pocket. At least they hadn’t managed to take that from me. I still had a way out. A future. For now. Because I wasn't going to let them have the house.
The plan was simple: go straight to the bank, deposit the check, and find a hotel to crash in.
Although, there is no doubt that Olivia, Tyler's mother, would accuse me of cheating again when she finds out that I had lodged into an hotel but, I have long since stopped caring about her opinions.
But then reality hit me like a slap to the face the moment I reached my car.
The gas light was blinking red.
I groaned, slumping against the door. "Oh, f**k! Hell no!."
I opened the driver’s side, sat down, and checked my wallet. Not even a twenty-dollar bill. I had spent my last cash on groceries that Tyler and his mother would probably enjoy without a second thought.
"Great," I muttered.
The bank was a thirty-minute drive away. On foot? At least an hour and a half. And I wasn’t about to walk around at night, especially in this neighbourhood.
Frustration bubbled in my chest, and I rubbed my temples. I needed to think. I needed a solution.
And then I remembered.
My fingers instinctively reached into the pocket of my cardigan. A small, crumpled piece of paper met my touch.
Ian’s number.
He had asked his assistant to give it to me before I left, but I hadn’t thought I’d actually use it.
Calling him felt like surrender. Like admitting, I needed help.
But right now, pride wouldn’t fill my gas tank.
I shoved my bag onto my lap and stepped out of the car. A telephone booth stood just across the street, old and barely functional, but it would do.
I hurried over, heart hammering as I unfolded the paper and punched in the numbers.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Come on, pick up.
On the fourth ring, a smooth, deep voice answered. "Ian Banks."
Relief flooded my chest. "Ian, it’s me—Tessa."
There was a brief silence, and then his voice softened, losing its usual coldness. "Tessa. What’s wrong?"
I swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. "My mother-in-law threw me out. Tyler let her. I—" I took a shaky breath, forcing down the lump in my throat. "I have nowhere to go right now. My car’s out of gas, and I need to get to the bank, but I—"
"Where are you?"
His tone had changed. It was sharp now, urgent.
I glanced around, giving him the name of the street corner.
"I’ll be there in thirty minutes," he said, no hesitation in his voice.
"Okay," I whispered.
The line went dead.
I leaned against the booth, exhaling shakily.
He had sounded... concerned. Not amused, not indifferent. Concerned.
I didn’t have time to analyze it.
Twenty minutes later, a sleek black Lamborghini pulled up in front of me.
The passenger door swung open before I could even react, and Ian stepped out.
My breath caught.
He wasn’t in one of his usual crisp suits. Instead, he wore a plain black t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, paired with grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Even in casual clothes, he still looked like a man who owned the world.
His gaze swept over me, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice gentler than I’d ever heard from him, he asked,
"Are you okay, love?"
"Yes. And, I want to do it."
"Do what?"
"Carry your child." I blurted out.
- Writer
