“Tucker! What are you doing?!”
He lunged forward, yanking me away with force, and then frantically called Torren’s name, his voice shaking with desperation.
When he realized Torren wasn’t responding, he stood up, his face turning pale as he checked what Torren had eaten. His eyes instantly filled with red-hot fury, and he roared at me.
“Mr. Montclaire! If you don’t want my son and me here, fine! We’ll leave! But why go so far as to harm a child? He’s only three! This could kill him!”
“Torren’s been allergic to corn and potatoes since birth. I’ve never dared to let him near it. How could you be so cruel, feeding him creamy corn and potato chowder?!”
I stood there, frozen, overwhelmed by his accusations. My mind raced, but all I could do was instinctively deny it.
“I didn’t. I didn’t give it to him…”
But Jade didn’t give me a chance to explain. He cut me off sharply.
“You didn’t? So what, are you saying Torren ordered creamy corn and potato chowder by himself? He’s three! What could he possibly know?!”
Delaney didn’t even spare me a glance. She marched forward, scooped Torren up from the floor, and stormed out without a word.
“Enough talking, get the child to the hospital first.”
She didn’t say anything else to me, but after five years together, I could feel the blame radiating from her.
As she brushed past, I caught a glimpse of her face, my fingers wrapping around her wrist. I spoke slowly, each word heavy with meaning.
“Delaney, it wasn’t me.”
She paused, her brow furrowing for a fleeting moment, a flicker of impatience crossing her face.
“Let go. I need to get Torren to the hospital.”
Before I could react, Jade shoved me hard. With surprising force, he pushed me aside, and he and Delaney moved swiftly toward the door.
The shove caught me off guard. I fell, my back slamming into the sharp edge of the coffee table, and an explosion of pain shot through me. A cry escaped my lips before I could stop it.
But Delaney, the woman who once couldn’t stand to see me in pain, didn’t even flinch. She didn’t even spare me a glance. Her only concern was the child in her arms.
I watched helplessly as the two of them disappeared from sight. That’s when my phone buzzed; it was a message from Grandpa.
“The car’s almost there. Pack up and come out.”
I swiped angrily at the tears streaking my face, ignored the ache in my back, and stumbled to my feet. I walked slowly to the bedroom.
I didn’t take anything, just my ID and my bank card. Then, without a second thought, I left.
Once I climbed into the car Grandpa had sent, I tapped out a message to Delaney.
[Let’s break up, Delaney.]
