by Sadie Grubor
"Look at me, Olivia." Damon's voice is soft, but stern. He turns my face with his hand, but I refuse to open my eyes.
"Look at me," he demands, softly.
"No." I shake my head. "I won't play into this sick game any further."
"Open your eyes, Olivia." The edge to his voice makes Alex whimper.
I open my eyes slowly and truly look at Damon Knyght for the first time. Gasping, I cover my mouth.
"Your eyes…" I choke on a sob.
I look at Alex, and then back to Damon — their eyes are almost identical. The gold-flecked eclipse around Damon's pupils is exact.
"It's a coincidence, that's all." I shake my head, but I can't stop comparing them, no matter how hard I try.
"I told you. We're connected. I've been trying to discuss everything with you, but you've done nothing but fight me each step."
His thumb rubs my cheek, the longing and want returning to his face.
"N-no," I cry.
Shoving his hand away, I push him back from us.
"Get out," I demand. "I won't entertain your delusions. Go, now."
Alex begins to sniff and whine. His tears start next and my heart aches. I wrap my arms around his little body.
Damon comes to us slowly, holding out a hand. I slap it away.
"Don't touch us," I sneer, keeping my voice low. "We are not connected. You are delusional and I'm suing for the divorce if you refuse the annulment. Stay away from me and my son or I will get a restraining order," I threaten, moving further away from him.
Damon's face goes stone still.
"I'll go, but I won't stay away. You are my wife and he is my son."
"No." I shake my head. "He's not. He's my son."
"Reproductive Health Center. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Doctor Cubeck." His tone is velvet, yet edged with steel.
"Stop it," I whisper, not willing to believe.
"If you want, I can give you a copy of the letter the clinic sent to me when they informed me of the mix up."
"You're lying," I grind out. "They would've contact me."
"I didn't actually see the letter myself. Not at first. It wasn't brought to my attention until almost a year ago." He shrugs. "I'll be sure you get a copy."
"Get out. Now." A sob tears from my chest, my knees weaken, and the sound of my heart beating fills my ears.
"Olivia?" Mercedes calls from the hallway before rushing into Alex's room at the sound of my sob.
"Take Alex, please," I beg Mercedes, my eyes never leaving Damon's face.
"Come on, buddy." Alex goes right into her arms and she swiftly exits the room.
Damon twitches in Alex's direction, but I move my body between them.
"Don't," I sneer.
His eyes return to me.
"You need to leave."
Footsteps on the stairs tell me Ced has taken Alex downstairs. Thank God!
"I'll go, but I'll be back." His words are both a promise and a threat. "You won't file divorce papers, Olivia." I open my mouth to argue, but he continues. "If I get one notice of restraint, divorce, annulment, separation, or anything like that, I won't hesitate to counter file for custody of Alex."
"The fuck you will!" Now that Alex is with Ced, I can really unleash.
"The fuck I won't!" he shouts back, stepping close to me. "One document, Olivia. That is all it takes for me to file custody papers and a paternity test."
"Just because you resemble my son, invade my life with your delusions, and make ridiculous claims—"
"Not a claim, Olivia. It's fact. You want proof? You will have a copy of the letter from the clinic by tomorrow morning. If you need more than that, let's get a paternity test. I have absolutely no hesitation."
"I want you to go away." I shove hard at his chest. "Go!"
Hurt washes away the anger on his face. He wraps his arms around me before I can get far enough away from him.
"I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted to talk to you, explain, and make you understand." I jerk in his arms, until his lips press against my head. "In Vegas, I wanted to tell you everything, but the night escalated so quickly. I never expected you to be so…captivating, so amazingly open. Regardless of the alcohol, I saw exactly who you are and in that moment, I knew I wanted you."
When I stay silent, still processing his claims, threats, and admissions, he sighs and releases me.
"I will return. We'll discuss everything later, after you have time to think."
He leaves Alex's room and a few minutes later, I hear my apartment door close.
Dropping down, I bend until my forehead rests on the plush carpet. I release all of my pent up emotions in a scream that leaves me breathless. Sobs roll from the pit of my stomach. Sure that the hard jerk of my stomach muscles would make me sick, I crawl to the bathroom and lie on the cool tile floor.
Thin arms encompass me, pulling me from the floor.
"Alex?" I croak.
"Sarah has him." Ced rubs my arms, steering me to my bedroom and lying me on the bed.
A few moments later, the sounds of the shower fill the room. Mercedes emerges and walks me to the bathroom. Helping me undress, she doesn't say a word. With a small nudge from her, I enter the shower, standing under the hot water until it starts to cool. Even as the water goes cold, I don't move. Everything is numb.
"Come on, Liv." Mercedes reaches in, shutting off the water.
She opens the curtain and stands with a large towel open for me. Once I'm wrapped in the towel, she hugs me.
"Wanna talk about it?" she whispers.
"I need to get dressed," I say, my voice deceptively calm. Inside, I'm a typhoon of emotional madness.
After dressing, I follow the sounds coming from my kitchen. Alex is in his highchair trying to spoon oatmeal into his mouth.
Seeing me, he shouts, "Momma!"
Smiling, I walk over and kiss his head. Guilt for bringing Damon into our lives assaults me. If I'd stayed away from Vegas, maybe this wouldn't have…who am I kidding? He clearly would've just shown up here.
"Let's talk." Mercedes settles into a chair at the dining table as Sarah excuses herself back to the bakery.
"Thanks, Sarah," I shout after her.
"No prob," she calls back just before I hear her feet on the steps.
Sitting across from Ced, I stare at Alex.
"Spill it." She sips at her coffee and pushes a mug toward me.
Sighing, I sit up straight, sip from the mug, and then replay the events from my confrontation with Damon. Throughout the tale, Ced's face ranges from anger, worry, shock, and disbelief.
"But, how…I mean, is it possible he's the donor?" Ced doesn't seem to know which question to ask first.
I shrug. "I don't know. He knows so much and says he has documentation from the clinic, but couldn't he falsify all of it?" I take a deep breath. "But why go through all this trouble? Why go as far as a paternity test?" Burying my face in my hands, I groan.
"Call Alfonso," she blurts.
"If I do that then he’ll—"
"He said no documentation or filing. You can still talk to Alfonso and get his opinion on things. Find out what you can do." Ced reaches for her cell phone and pulls up his number. "Call him." She slides the neon yellow phone across the table.
Picking it up, I touch the screen, initiating the call.
After three hours on the phone, half an hour of which spent on hold while he cleared his schedule for me, it boils down to me being screwed.
Damon may have broken some laws, but we don't have any proof. I could get a restraining order, but he has the money and power to manipulate the system in his favor. Also, if he's willing to bury me in court for years over a divorce, I'm pretty sure he's not above further manipulation. Plus, I have to worry about a possible custody issue.
"We can still proceed, Olivia. I mean, I'm not saying you should back down. I want you to be prepared for battle, though. It could be a long one, especially if the mix up at the clinic turns out to be true and in
his favor." Alfonso clears his throat. "We'll have to bring in a family law attorney for this. I've got experience, but going against a man like Damon will take some expertise."
Alfonso is doing his best to be unbiased, but I can hear the concern in his voice. If I do move forward, he isn't confident in the results.
"Thanks, Al." An unwanted feeling of resignation washes over me as I end the call.
"Liv?" Ced questions from her spot on the floor with Alex.
"I'm screwed." A humorless laugh escapes my lips.
Dropping my head to the table, I begin to bang it a couple times. Alex mimics me by banging a block on the floor.
"I'm so sorry. Can't you—?"
Before she can finish, I tell her everything Alfonso told me.
"So, you're just going to let him—?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Ced. We may be married, because of a piece of paper, but I'm not his slave or some Stepford wife at his beck and call," I snap. Then, realizing what I'd done, I say, "Sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"I know." She gave me an understanding smile.
"What's left to do in the bakery?" I ask, trying to take my mind off things.
"You aren't seriously going back to work?" She stands from the floor, looking at me incredulously.
"Um, yes. This is my bakery, it's my name on the sign, and I need to get my mind off this shit."
I walk from the table to the living space, stopping next to Alex to pick him up.
"Momma." He snuggles against me.
Pulling back, our eyes meet. Damon stares back at me through my son’s face. My lungs suddenly won’t hold air. I can't get enough. Desperately searching Alex's face, I try to find something to make Damon wrong, but the more I look, the more I can't breathe.
"Liv," Ced says, concern in her voice. She takes Alex from me and rubs my back with a free hand.
"Let's get downstairs," I gasp, still trying to take in air.
Once in the kitchen, everyone is quieter than usual.
"Give me a cake," I announce, wiping a tear away before slipping an apron over my head.
No one moves, except Ced who places Alex in his play area.
I stand next to my worktable, put my hands on the top, and lean forward, closing my eyes. "Someone give me a damn cake, please," I beg, fighting more tears.
"Here you go." Greg shoves an order sheet and a twelve-inch round sponge cake at me.
After looking over the order for a four-tier marshmallow fondant anniversary cake, I look up at Greg's smirk.
"Oh, nice try, but you are so helping with this monster." I laugh a real laugh, and it feels good.
The next day, I receive a certified carrier letter. There, in black and white, Mr. Damon Knyght is informed about the mix up between him and another donor. But, it also states a letter was sent to all affected parties. Since I never received any type of letter, there's still a chance, right?
Two weeks pass with no word from Damon. Feeling rather hopeful and positive about the turn of events, Alex and I sit icing cookies together. Well, I’m icing cookies. He’s doing more of a lick-the-icing-off-his-finger thing.
I laugh as he makes green and blue icing prints on the tray of his highchair, but my good mood falters with a knock at the door.
"Who could that be, huh?" I coo to Alex.
"Cookie," he announces.
"You think it's a cookie at the door?" Laughing, I wipe my hands on the towel over my shoulder and stand.
As I reach for the doorknob, I notice a missed glob of green buttercream on the knuckle of my ring finger. I pull open the door and instinctively put my knuckle to my lips.
"Can I taste?" His familiar velvety voice sends warmth down my spine.
My eyes meet his and I swallow hard, quickly pulling my finger from my mouth.
"What are you—?"
"I told you I'd be back." With a crooked smirk, he leans against the doorframe.
"We're busy. You should have called instead of just showing up. Sorry." Faking a smile, I push the door closed.
His arm juts out, stopping the door halfway before pushing it back open.
"Not so fast, Olivia."
He leans down, picking up two black leather duffle bags. Straightening with the bags in his hands, he steps around me and into my living room.
"What are you doing?" I snap.
"I'm here to see my family." He turns, looking at me from over his shoulder. "Should I put these in our bedroom?"
"Um, there is no ours. You can take them to a hotel, or better yet, you could take them back to New York with you." Forcing a large, fake smile, I bat my lashes.
"I had hoped the lack of divorce papers meant you accepted our marriage." He drops his bags onto the floor at his feet.
"Like you gave me the option to file for divorce," I scoff. "You're blackmail tactics worked, though I’m still not one-hundred percent sure of your claims."
"I only provided you with the facts and the position you would put me in based on your actions."
"Get out," I sneer.
"No." He steps closer to me.
"Now," I demand in a hush.
My eyes shift to Alex. He's watching us with curiosity, not an iota of fear or stress on his face. Keep your calm, Liv. I look back at Damon.
"Make me," he goads, a half-smile playing on his lips.
He thinks this is a joke? I'll show him funny.
Grabbing my cell from my back pocket, I start to dial.
"Who are you calling?" Damon walks closer and I step backward.
"The cops," I clip, looking at him through narrow and defiant eyes. "You can't just intrude into my home, Damon." The operator's nasally voice fills my ear. "Hello, I need assistance—"
"That's quite enough." Growling, he takes the phone from my hand and ends the call.
Walking back to the door, I reopen it.
"Go." My voice is a stern command, but I keep my volume low for Alex's sake.
"Olivia," he says on a sigh, placing my cell phone on a table. "We have a lot to talk about. I know you received the copy of the letter. I'm sure you have questions and I would like time to bond with my son." He turns his attention to Alex.
"Stay away from him," I hiss, shutting the door — hard.
With quick steps, I reach Alex and take him from his highchair. Not caring about the icing he will paint my clothes in, I hold him protectively in my arms.
"I would never hurt him." Damon rolls his eyes. "You're being ridiculous."
"Me, ridiculous?" I snort. "What about you?"
"If I were going to hurt either of you, I would've done it by now, don't you think?" A frustrated sigh leaves him.
"You think your blackmail and threat of taking him from me isn't harming me? Forcing me to stay married to you and go through this delusional idea of how a relationship begins isn't harmful?" It's hard, but I manage to keep my tone level. Alex doesn't tense once.
Damon's brow furrows.
"We need to talk. I refuse to argue about the same things every time we're together. It makes sense for me to stay here so I can spend time with Alex."
He moves from the middle of the room to the couch and sits.
"Just allow the annulment," I beg.
"I'm afraid I can't do that." He shrugs.
"Why? Why can't you just go back to your life and leave us be?" Tears threaten to spill from my eyes.
He stares at me from across the room, his eyes conveying the seriousness of the situation.
"Because, now that I've found you, both of you, I could never walk away. Don't you understand? You two are everything." Dropping the intense stare, he puts his head in his hands and grips his hair. “I searched for you for almost a year. There were three," he laughs, but it's not from joy.
"Three what?" I'm not sure why I ask since I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. I think it's just to hear him say the words.
"Three women," he blurts. "But of the three, there is only you. You and Alex.” I stay silent, wa
iting to see if he’ll offer more.
“During one month, my supply was used in three separate procedures. Each of them a mix up with the donor you all chose.” He laughs humorlessly again. “Who knew such a difficult time in my life would lead to the one thing that can save me?”
“How did you track us down?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It wasn’t easy. The records were sealed.” His eyes meet mine again. “But, as I told you, I have resources.” His move from the couch to right in front of me is so sudden, I don’t have time to think about moving away.
“There is only you, though. You and Alex." Damon's fingers graze my cheek.
"If this is the truth, there are plenty of other women who would—"
"No," he snaps. "I want you. You and Alex are worth more than anything else. I won't lose you."
Fear swirls in my stomach, urging me to run to my room, lock the door, and call the police. My brain pushes panic induced adrenaline through my body, telling me to be afraid. But, as ridiculous as it sounds, I know, deep down, he won't hurt us.
Well, that crazy talk won't beat out my common sense.
Pulling away from his touch, I hurry down the hall with Alex in my arms. Once in my room, I close the door and lock it.
"Olivia," Damon calls out from the other side of the door, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Go. Just go, please." Cradling Alex, I slide down the door until I sit on the floor.
"I can't. I can't walk away. Not now. I need you. You have no idea how much I need you."
A muffled slump on the other side of the door is enough to tell me he, too, sits on the other side.
Olivia
After killing time giving Alex the bath he needed, he sits in only his training pants, playing with some of the toys I keep at the end of my bed. Watching him play, I wait for my laptop to come to life.
"Time to Google you, Mr. Damon Knyght," I say out loud to no one. "Let's see…hmm."
B.I.G. company information and accomplishments in business cover the first page of results. Page two provides an article about Mildred Banks-Knyght.
Mildred Banks-Knyght, CEO & daughter to the founder of B.I.G., has fallen mysteriously ill, leaving the company in peril. Without a successor, the board is frantic to find a replacement. Mildred, nor the board, was available to comment.
