Page 84 of Her Ex's Father
Caroline reaches over, squeezes my knee. “Then you fight for her. But not tonight. Not tomorrow. Give her time. Three days. If she wanted to leave forever, she would’ve said so. Trust her enough to breathe.”
Three days.
Three days without her laughter echoing in these halls. Three days without her hand brushing mine in the dark. Three days without feeling the subtle kicks of our child beneath her skin when she pulls my hand to her stomach.
Three days of hell.
But if it’s what she needs—if it proves to her that I trust her—I’ll do it.
I lift my head, meet Caroline’s steady gaze.
“Three days,” I echo.
She nods, satisfied.
Leo appears in the doorway, looking awkward. “Uh… anyone want a cookie?”
For the first time tonight, a broken laugh tears out of me.
Chapter 31
Madeline
The morning air in Philadelphia is wetter, heavier than the clean, pine-sweet breezes I’m used to in Montana or Aspen. The jet lands just after seven, and by the time I’m standing and waiting for my baggage to unload, my legs feel like overcooked spaghetti. I slept maybe two hours—half-dozing against the tiny window while my mind spun in tight, punishing circles.
I promised myself I’d eat something, maybe nap on the plane, but instead I kept replaying everything. The wedding. The kiss. The contracts. Benedict’s eyes on me like they were forged from steel.
Even here, miles away, after telling him I need space—he’s all I can think about.
My stomach flips, and it’s not just from the turbulence of memory. Our little girl has been making herself known—quietly, subtly, but enough that I can’t ignore it anymore.
“Do you have a car waiting for you?” the flight attendant asks. She’s watching me closely, a note of concern in her eyes as they scan my tired body.
“Oh, um… no. But I’ll wait inside and call one.”
Her gaze flicks to the airport, which we’re on the very edge of. Already a little cart is motoring out toward us. The attendantdoesn’t look too sure of my answer, and it makes me wonder if somehow Ben knows where I am, hasn’t freaked out, and asked someone to keep an eye on me.
But no… he won’t know until Hugh feels guilty enough to let it slip. He probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone.
That’s not true,a tiny voice in my head reprimands. The combination of exhaustion and inner turmoil makes my eyes water, and I thank the attendant and pilot with a wavering smile before climbing into the cart. Moments later we’re careening toward the airport, hand protectively covering my belly.
Philadelphia International is a low, sprawling airport with massive glass walls and busy lines of people pushing through. The driver lets me out at an entrance for private travelers, and I slip inside as well as I can with a huge belly, ignoring the growl of my stomach when the food court scents assault me.
My phone buzzes, and my heart lurches.
It’s just Jack.
Staring tiredly at the screen, I read:Here yet?
Just offloaded,I type back, fumbling and feeling off-kilter from the people shifting all around me.Meet you out front?
After a little thumbs up comes back, I take a moving walkway (with relief) to the part of the airport where everyone meets with loved ones, hurries into business cars, waits for shuttles to hotels. I clutch the strap of my carry-on, scanning the crowd. For one aching second, I imagine it’ll be Ben striding toward me, cutting a path through the travelers with that commanding presence of his. My chest tightens painfully.
But it’s not.
“Mad Dog.”
I whip around.
