“There’s a spare room where Vann stays sometimes. I’ll clean it for you.”
His haughty expression said he’d never doubted that he’d get his way, that he planned to get his way on a lot of other things too. He’d taken control of this situation and felt it within his rights to correct what he saw as major wrongs.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll be by in the morning with my things.” He headed to the front door. “And, Brielle?”
She met his gaze.
“Don’t even think of running with my son,” he warned, his voice icy. “Now that I know about Justice, I’d spend every breath I have left tracking you down, and when I found you, there would be hell to pay.”
* * *
Ross paced back and forth across the living room of his leased apartment.
Nervous energy burned through him, singeing every nerve ending.
A son. He had a son. He and Brielle had a son.
An almost five-year-old son.
He’d missed nearly five years of his child’s life.
He thought back to the end of their relationship, searching for some hint that she had been pregnant. Some hint that she had been trying to tell him more was going on than met the eye.
The truth was, with her erratic behavior he’d been in a claustrophobic frame of mind and he’d probably have even missed her clues if she had set baby rattles and diapers throughout their apartment.
All he’d known had been that he’d been offered that great opportunity in Boston and he’d been torn about accepting it. Right up until he’d had enough of the bridal magazines, Brielle shutting him out, the awkwardness that had developed between them, her being mad at him more often than not, them arguing over nothing at all, and he’d called it quits.
Had he been looking for an out?
Tonight, in the heat of the moment, he’d told her he’d loved her. Words he’d never said out loud to any woman. He had cared more for Brielle than any other woman he’d ever known, but had he loved her?
He must have because the words had come from deep within him.
He had loved Brielle.
She’d deceived him in the worst way.
She’d given birth to his child and kept knowledge of that child from him.
He had an almost five-year-old son he knew nothing about.
Except that he looked like his mother and liked caped superheros.
And that the boy loved his mother.
Regardless of what he considered her wrongs, Brielle had obviously done a good job of raising their son. She was a good, loving mother, and their son adored her.
Which made things complicated.
Because Ross’s gut instinct was to pursue custody, as much custody as a judge would grant him, and if that wasn’t enough he’d take the case to a higher level, even if it cost him every dime he had. He would be in his son’s life. But the logic that saw him through medical school and beyond warned that he had to proceed cautiously or he’d alienate his son before they ever had a chance to bond. Or traumatize him in ways therapists would warn would take him a lifetime to get over.
Ross had enough medical training to know the psychological impact his coming into his son’s life could have, especially if he pulled the boy away from his mother in any shape, form, or fashion.
So he’d move in with them and Brielle would foster his relationship with Justice. Whether she wanted to or not. She owed him that much.