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What the fuck has he got to be angry about? He just showed up at my home unannounced.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow in reply and I wave my hand in the air. “Michael? What if Noah was home?”
“He isn’t. I saw him drive off with Tia,” he answers before stepping into the house.
He walks in, taking note of the apartment, and I can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. It’s not much compared to the mansions he lives in.
“So what? You’re stalking us now?” I ask, feeling mild irritation.
Finally, he turns to look at me. Our eyes meet and the tension in the air crackles.
“It’s been five days. Five days since I told you I wanted to meet my son.”
“I realize that, and I was getting to it. But you disrespecting the boundaries I set and showing up here unannounced isn’t really helping your case right now," I state.
“Yes, boundaries. Let’s talk about that for a moment. I spoke to my lawyers and they informed me that a custody battle would be greatly beneficial to me right now.”
My eyes widen as he finishes that sentence. I stare at him, stunned and terrified that he would even consider something like that. Then I come back to my senses.
He’s Michael Crane. Of course, he would consider something like that. He could do it. I know he could. But he must have forgotten who I am, as well. I’m not an easy person to beat.
“I have more rights than you, asshole. In case you’ve forgotten after your shady background check, your name isn’t on his birth certificate. You’re not legally recognized as his father anywhere, so how exactly do you plan to plead your case before a court?” I question with a sneer. I’m a fucking lawyer and he’s trying to scare me with that.
“I’m his biological father! His dad, and you kept him away from me for six years. Now that I’m finally ready to be a part of his life, you’re being difficult. What did you expect me to do?” he yells in frustration.
“Not threaten to file for fucking custody for starters,” I say angrily.
His eyes soften. “I don’t want to do that. But you have got to give me something. It’s driving me crazy, Christine. Knowing I have a son, my flesh and blood, right here in our hometown. ”
I take a deep, calming breath.
“Michael, you’re a neat freak and a perfectionist. You hate when there’s even a speck of dust on your furniture, and I used to watch you yell at Matt when we were kids any time he touched something that belonged to you. You have a short fuse and you’re prone to lashing out.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and waits for me to get to the point.
“You really think that sort of behavior is compatible with a child? They’re loud and messy and can be a handful. On top of that, Noah has ADHD, which means he needs more care and attention than you may be prepared to give him.”
“You don’t think I realize that? What do you think I’ve been doing the past few days? I’ve done my research. I’ve read books and watched videos on how to interact with him until we get to know each other a little more. I’ve tried my best to learn, but it won’t happen in a couple of days. I have to meet him.”
“I realize that,” I say with a nod.
“And the person you just described is someone you knew six years ago. Don’t presume to know who I’ve become. Give me some credit. I just want to get to know my son, Christine.”
“I know, and you will.”
“When?” he questions as a muscle ticks in his jaw.
“Tomorrow?” I suggest. Even as I say the words, my heart pounds in my chest.
“Today,” Michael counters. “I’ll be here in time for dinner.”
I look up at him.
“Michael—”
“I don’t want to wait another day, Christine.”
