Chapter 4 - The Desperate Hours
The walls were closing in on Ryan.
With no job, no family support, and a pending federal investigation, his high-priced lawyer quickly abandoned him, refusing to work without a massive retainer. He was forced to move into a dingy, one-bedroom motel on the outskirts of Portland, his luxury lifestyle reduced to paper plates and a noisy air conditioner.
One rainy Tuesday night, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I hesitated, but something compelled me to answer. "Hello?"
"Emily... please," Ryan’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with tears and alcohol. "Please don't do this to me. I'm your husband. We built a life together."
"You threw that life away the moment you walked out that door, Ryan," I said, my voice cold.
"I was scared!" he cried, his voice echoing through the phone. "The babies... they wouldn't stop crying. I felt like I was drowning. I made a mistake, Emily. A horrible, stupid mistake. But you can't take them away from me. I'm their father!"
"A father doesn't let his wife bleed and starve while he sips wine in Rome, Ryan," I said, my grip tightening on the phone as the memory of that painful first week flashed through my mind. "A father doesn't steal his children's nursery fund to buy diamonds for another woman. You aren't a father. You're just a donor who got scared."
"I'll fight you!" he threatened, his voice suddenly shifting into a desperate, feral snarl. "I'll tell the judge you're unstable! I'll tell them you kept me from them!"
"Go ahead," I said quietly. "We have the security footage from the front porch. We have your text messages telling me to 'get over it' while I was begging for help. We have everything, Ryan. See you in court."
I hung up the phone and blocked the number.
May you like
I walked into the nursery, where Ava and Ethan were sleeping peacefully. I leaned over the crib, gently kissing their warm, soft cheeks.
"Nobody is ever going to abandon us again," I whispered.
