Patsy walked over and seized my wrist.
"You're pregnant yourself now, almost a mother. You need to be the bigger person."
"Faith was all alone raising that child overseas. It's only right that Tony sent her some money."
"Accept the boy, and he'll call you 'Mom' too. The Henson family will finally have a proper firstborn grandson."
I wrenched my hand free.
"Accept him? Your entire family has been spending my money to bankroll your son's mistress, and now you want me to just accept it?"
Tony's face was flushed deeper with alcohol, but his eyes held a sliver of ice.
I stepped back. A sharp, cramping pain tightened across my belly.
"These past five years, I've taken care of you in every way imaginable. I treated you like a princess." His voice was low, almost bored. "Isn't everything I've done proof enough that I love you?"
"Faith came back because a child needs his father. She's not asking for a title."
Faith leaned into Tony's chest, her eyes rimmed red.
"Tony, please don't blame her. This is all my fault. I never should have brought Rufus back."
Tony patted her shoulder, soothing her.
"This has nothing to do with you. This is what you and Rufus deserve."
I stared at the lot of them, my nails digging crescents into my palms.
"Tony, every asset under your name came from the company shares and dividends I gave you."
"You used my money to take care of her?"
He stepped forward, towering over me.
"That was what you owed me."
He tilted his head, exposing the scar that ran along his hairline. "See this? If I hadn't saved your life, you'd be dead."
The birthday party dissolved after that.
Tony drove Faith and Rufus straight back to our house.
He fished out his key, unlocked the front door, and waved at the movers waiting on the curb.
"Bring everything inside."
I stood in the foyer and watched the workers file past me carrying small suitcases.
Tony pointed toward the room at the end of the second-floor hallway.
"Clear that room out. It's Rufus's now."
That was the nursery I had spent three months putting together, my heart full of hope the entire time. I'd lined the walls with non-toxic wallpaper, ordered a custom crib, and filled the shelves with a matching set of prenatal learning toys.
I climbed the stairs and planted myself in the doorway.
"This is my baby's room. Nobody touches it."
Tony came up behind me, grabbed my arm, and yanked me aside.
"The thing in your belly hasn't even been born yet. What does it need a whole room for?"
"Rufus is five. He needs his own space."
He turned and barked at the workers.
"What are you standing around for? Throw all that junk out!"
They swarmed into the room.
The imported crib was dismantled into planks and hauled out.
The pure-cotton baby clothes I'd picked out myself were tossed in a heap on the hallway carpet.
Faith led the boy upstairs.
She surveyed the wreckage on the floor and pressed a hand over her mouth.
"Please don't be upset. Tony just feels bad that Rufus doesn't have a place to sleep. If it bothers you, Rufus and I can stay at a hotel."
Tony grabbed her hand immediately.
"This is your home. I'd like to see anyone try to make you leave."
The boy yanked free of Faith's grip and ran to the pile of discarded things. He stomped down on the folded baby clothes, grinding his shoe back and forth.
Then he crouched, reached into a cardboard box, and pulled out a small carved wooden horse.
Five years ago, Tony had carved it for me by hand, right after he was discharged from the hospital. He'd sat on the balcony with bandages still wrapped thick around his head, a carving knife turning in his fingers. Wood shavings had dusted his lap, his arms, his shoulders.
He'd placed the finished horse in my palm and told me that someday he'd carve an entire set of wooden toys for our children.
