Chasing His Divorced Wife And His Child

Chapter 9

COLIN’S POV

Something is off the second I look at her.

Not small, not something I can ignore, just wrong in a way that settles under my skin and refuses to move, like whatever just happened didn’t end with that call.

Damn.

“What was that?” I ask, my voice lower now, careful, but there’s pressure under it because the way she’s standing, the way she’s holding that phone, none of it feels normal.

She shakes her head too fast, fingers tightening slightly. “It’s nothing. Just… a wrong call.”

Yeah, no.

I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair, trying to stay patient even though something in me is already pushing forward. “You don’t have to lie to me like that,” I say, quieter now, watching her closely, “not when it’s this obvious something’s wrong.”

She doesn’t look at me, and that tells me more than anything she could say.

“You should go,” she says instead, her voice tighter now, like she’s forcing control back into place. “Please, Colin. Just leave before this turns into something else.”

She says please, and it hits harder than it should, pulling me closer in a way I don’t understand.

I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know what you’re dealing with,” I admit, my voice rougher than I expect, “but I know it’s not nothing, and I’m not walking out on you like this.”

Her eyes snap to mine, something sharp flashing through them. “You don’t get to decide that,” she says, frustration slipping through, “especially not now, when you don’t even remember anything.”

Saying that should stop me, but it doesn’t, and something in me refuses to back down.

Something sits wrong in my chest, not sharp, just heavy, like I’m standing in front of something I should’ve been part of a long time ago.

“I know I don’t remember,” I say, holding her gaze now, my voice quieter but more grounded, “but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re dealing with something alone, and that doesn’t sit right with me.”

She lets out a short breath, shaking her head. “I’ve been fine on my own. I don’t need you stepping in now and trying to fix something you don’t even understand.”

It hits, not because she’s wrong, but because it sounds like she had to be fine on her own, and I hate that.

I look at her for a second longer than I should, something tightening low in my chest, steady and uncomfortable. “You had to be,” I say, more to myself than her, “which means I wasn’t there when I should’ve been.”

She goes still, and something in me tightens like I just said something I shouldn’t have.

“I should’ve noticed,” I add, running a hand over the back of my neck, frustration creeping in. “Whatever this is, whatever happened… you didn’t end up like this for no reason.”

Her voice comes out sharper, almost defensive. “Don’t do that, don’t stand there and act like you suddenly understand everything, because you don’t.”

“I’m not pretending I understand,” I say, shaking my head, “I’m just saying I can tell I missed something, and I don’t like what that says about me.”

Silence sits between us.

Then, quieter, more uncertain than I expected, the words come out anyway. “I don’t know if this even means anything to you right now, but… I’m sorry.”

She inhales sharply.

“You don’t get to say that,” she says, but it’s not as strong this time.

“I know I don’t have the right context,” I admit, my voice lower now, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I can feel it, that whatever happened, it wasn’t nothing.”

Before she can respond, the door opens.

“Ms. Nadia?” a voice calls, hesitant.

We both turn.

A gallery assistant steps in, clearly unsure. “There are people here asking for you. They said your name.”

Nadia goes completely still, not surprised or confused, like she’s been expecting this, and something uneasy settles in my gut.

“What people?” I ask, my tone sharper now.

“They didn’t say,” the assistant replies. “They’re just waiting… and they don’t look like they plan to leave.”

Shit. I glance at Nadia, and the look on her face tells me this isn’t random, it’s connected, and another figure steps in behind the assistant without hesitation, calm and steady like he already knows what’s going on.

The man’s presence fills the space without effort, his eyes moving straight to Nadia, then briefly to me, taking everything in without asking twice.

Frank Davidson.

I don’t need an introduction, I already looked into who he is.

He stands like someone who’s been here before, like he’s the kind of man who stays when things get difficult, not someone who walks away.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his voice even, but there’s quiet concern under it.

Nadia shakes her head quickly. “It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

He doesn’t believe her, and honestly, neither do I, and before I can push it further, my phone vibrates again in my hand. I glance down and see the name on the screen.

My phone vibrates again in my hand, and when I glance down, the name on the screen makes something in me tighten.

Max.

I open the message : Call me now, this is serious. Your mother is asking questions, and she already knows about the kid. She knows you’re with her.

My jaw tightens, because that’s exactly how Max sounds, straight to the point, no emotion, just facts, and the part about my mother hits harder than anything else.

Damn.

I lift my head, looking between Nadia and the door, and something shifts in my head as it all lines up at once, her fear, the people outside, the message still in my hand, none of it separate anymore, it’s all connected.

“What did you get pulled into?” I ask, my voice lower now, more serious, because whatever this is, it’s already moving.

“I didn’t get pulled into anything,” she says, but it doesn’t hold.

I step closer, not aggressive, just firm enough that she can’t brush this off. “You don’t have to lie to me again,” I say quietly, “not when it’s already right here.”

Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something there, not just fear, something deeper, something she’s not saying, and before either of us can speak, a knock cuts through the moment, firm and deliberate.

Everything goes quiet, even Frank, the assistant stepping back as I move just enough to stand slightly in front of Nadia without making it obvious.

The handle turns, then the door opens, and a man walks in like he belongs here, too calm for someone who shouldn’t be, his eyes going straight to Nadia as a faint smile touches his lips.

“We’ve been looking for you.”