Chasing His Divorced Wife And His Child

Chapter 7

NADIA’S POV

Everything inside me locks the second I hear it.

For a second, I just stare at Noah, my mind going blank, like if I don’t react fast enough, it won’t be real. My chest tightens painfully, breath catching halfway, and all I can think is no… not this… not now.

“No,” I say too quickly, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “No, don’t say that.”

His little face shifts immediately, confusion replacing whatever ease he had before. “Mommy…?”

Damn it.

Guilt hits just as fast as the panic. I soften, brushing my hand over his sleeve. “Hey… it’s okay. I didn’t mean it like that. Just—don’t say that word, okay?”

He doesn’t understand. Of course he doesn’t. He’s just a kid. He said what felt natural.

That’s what scares me, and I don’t even need to turn to know Colin is right behind me.

I feel it, the weight of his attention, heavy and fixed on Noah. It presses against my back, making my skin feel too tight, like I can’t breathe properly.

I don’t want to turn around because I already know what I’m going to see, but I still do it anyway.

“You need to leave,” I say, and I hate how unsteady I sound.

He doesn’t move, his attention locked on Noah instead of me, and something tightens in my chest, sharp and ugly, something I don’t want to name because it feels too close to jealousy.

“Colin,” I push.

He looks at me briefly, but it doesn’t last, and his attention drifts back again like I’m not enough to hold it. My chest tightens, and I hate how much that bothers me.

“It didn’t mean anything,” I rush out. “He’s a child, he hears things, he repeats them, that’s all this is.”

Colin studies me, his gaze steady, searching in a way that makes my stomach knot.

“That didn’t sound random,” he says.

“It was,” I fire back, my heart starting to pound.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Shit, the answer comes out too fast, and I hear how wrong it sounds the second it leaves my mouth, and I know he hears it too.

“You don’t sound sure,” he says quietly.

“I am,” I insist, even though my chest feels tight.

“You’re not.”

Something in me snaps.

“You don’t get to question me,” I say, my voice rising. “You don’t get to walk in here and decide what anything means.”

“I’m not deciding,” he replies calmly, and that calmness makes everything worse. “I’m trying to understand what’s happening.”

“There’s nothing to understand.”

“There is for me.”

“That’s your problem,” I say, harsher than I mean to.

He exhales slowly.

“I know I don’t remember,” he says, quieter now, “but I’m not blind. You’re reacting like this matters.”

My throat tightens, because of course it matters, and I hate that it matters this much.

“Of course it matters,” I say, my voice breaking. “He just called a stranger ‘Daddy.’ What do you expect me to do with that?”

“Stranger,” he repeats.

“Yes,” I force out, even though it feels wrong.

“You don’t believe that.”

I let out a short, strained laugh. “What do you want from me? You show up out of nowhere, and suddenly this means something?”

“I don’t know what it means,” he says. “I just know it doesn’t feel like nothing.”

My chest tightens again.

“No,” I say quickly. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Look at him like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s yours.”

Silence settles between us, and my heartbeat starts pounding so loud it feels like it’s giving me away.

He watches me carefully.

“I don’t know what he is to me,” he says slowly, “but I know this isn’t nothing.”

My chest aches.

“You don’t get to decide that based on a feeling.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

“I don’t owe you that,” I say, my voice lower now.

“Maybe not,” he replies, “but pretending it’s nothing won’t make it disappear.”

My control slips.

“You didn’t even notice me,” I say, the words coming out raw. “Three years, Colin. I was right there, and you still didn’t see me.”

He goes still.

“I don’t remember that.”

“I know,” I say, softer now. “That doesn’t make it better.”

Silence stretches again.

Noah shifts beside me, his fingers gripping my shirt tighter.

“I’m here,” I whisper, brushing his arm.

But his attention drifts again, back to Colin like something inside him is pulling him there, and something cold twists in my chest.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Look at me.”

He does for a second, then looks away again, and something in my chest tightens hard.

“Colin, just leave,” I say, and now I can’t hide the desperation.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I’m not walking away from this.”

“You already did,” I snap.

“That’s not the same.”

“It is to me.”

He takes a step forward, and panic grips my chest so fast it almost knocks the air out of me.

I move without thinking, placing myself between him and Noah.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not trying to take anything.”

“Then stop coming closer.”

He stops, but Noah doesn’t, and before I can react, he slips past me, and my heart drops hard.

“Noah—”

He walks toward Colin, small, steady steps, completely unaware of how everything inside me is unraveling.

“Come back,” I say, sharper now.

He doesn’t, he stops right in front of Colin, way too close, and my chest tightens like something’s about to go wrong.

“Come here,” I say again, softer.

He doesn’t move, he just looks up at Colin before lifting his hand slowly, carefully, like it matters more than anything else.

“Don’t—” I step forward.

It’s too late, his fingers wrap around Colin’s, and Colin freezes completely still like that small touch hits something deep, something real, and my chest tightens so hard it almost hurts to breathe.

“Let go,” I say, my voice strained.

Noah doesn’t. He holds on like it’s natural.

“Let go,” I repeat, sharper now.

Colin looks up at me, and something in his expression changes, the confusion is still there, but it’s not alone anymore, there’s something heavier behind it now, something that shouldn’t exist if he really feels nothing, and he glances at Noah before looking back at me.

“I don’t remember losing you,” he says, his voice quieter, rougher.

My breath catches.

He swallows slightly.

“But it feels like I did.”