- Luca
Rowan was slumped in the seat next to me, clutching my phone in a white-knuckled grip. He was three sheets to the wind, his tie undone and dangling like a noose.
"Ivy, just... just shut up and listen for once!" he roared into the phone. He was slurring, his head lolling back against the headrest. "I’m tired, okay? I’m so damn tired of the lawyers and the shouting."
I stared out the window at the passing city lights, trying to give him some privacy in the cramped space, but it was impossible. Ivy’s voice was a tinny, jagged screech coming through the receiver.
"Oh, you're tired?" she snapped. "Try being the one hiding in a hotel room because your 'perfect' husband image has broken, Rowan!"
Rowan let out a jagged, pathetic laugh. "Fine. You want the kid? Keep the baby
