Worth More Than Money (Worth It 3)

“Michelle?” Gray called out as he came into the house.

I stood from his chair in his office and slung my bag over my shoulder.

“Michelle? You home?”

Home. What a disgusting word to attribute to this place.

“Michelle?” Gray asked as he came around the corner. “There you are. What are you—?”

I held up the papers in my hand before I tossed them at him, watching them flutter to the ground at his feet.

“Did you really think it was going to work?” I asked.

Gray’s face paled as his eyes darted from the papers to the bag over my shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ll never give this child away. Not for five hundred million dollars,” I said. “Not for all the money in the world, despite the gold digger you think I am.”

“Michelle, this isn’t what you think. Things have changed.”

“But not enough for you to alert your lawyer about it, right?” I asked.

“Michelle, calm down.”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down!”

I shocked even myself with out loud that statement came out.

“After everything I’ve endured with you and every promise I’ve hung onto that came flowing from your mouth, you want me to calm down!? After slaughtering my name and storming out and leaving me behind in your dust twice you think I should calm the fuck down!?”

“Michelle, you need to listen. Nothing in those papers is what I want anymore,” he said.

“Like hell you do,” I said. “I don’t give a shit what is going on anymore. And I don’t give a shit about the words coming out of your face. I’ll be damned if I’m giving this child up to you. A damaged, broken, angry man who has nothing better to do than destroy the hopes and dreams of somebody just trying to carve out some semblance of a life for herself!”

“Michelle—”

“I swear to hell and high water, if you tell me to calm down or listen one more time you won’t have eyes to see with once I’m done clawing them out.”

Gray clamped his mouth shut, but I saw the fury rising in his eyes.

“At every turn, I’ve believed you. Listened to you. Sought comfort in you in the hopes that if I stuck around long enough—if I became the embodiment of fidelity—that you would see my worth. See my passion for you. See the love I have grown to have for you. And at every turn, you show me exactly where you stand. Exactly what you think about me. Exactly what I mean to you.”

“Michelle, you—”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

The office fell silent as I drew in a deep breath.

“I want you listen very carefully to me, because you are no longer in control of this, Grayson MacDonald. I’m leaving.”

“Like hell you are,” he said.

“I’m leaving and our agreement is broken.”

“You’re not going anywhere with my child!”

“As far as I’m concerned you’re nowhere near capable of being a father, Gray! Hell, you’re not even capable of being a decent man. You tricked me. Again! And I allowed it because I refuse to see the bad in you. Because I refuse to only see the good I know is trapped underneath the pain and the heartache and the fear you experience on a daily basis. But I can’t fix you, Gray! Only you can! You stand here in my presence with a custody agreement at your feet that essentially buys this child off me and it doesn’t occur to you for a split second that fatherhood extends beyond that! It’s more than custody. It’s more than fighting. It’s more than the initial moment of birth or some heartbeat in a doctor’s office. It’s forever, Gray. A lifetime of work and sacrifice. You can’t even give me the opportunity to get close to you, so why the hell should I believe you’ll allow your child the same thing!?”