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“Say what, exactly?” I snap, leaning back in my chair.
“That you abandoned Robbie at the museum yesterday,” she says, her voice sharp.
I scoff, shaking my head. “Abandoned? That’s hardly what happened. I left him at a daycare center—a very reputable one, by the way. He was perfectly safe, Annie. I wouldn’t have left him there if I thought otherwise.”
Her jaw tightens, and she takes another step forward. “Would you feel the same way if I hadabandonedhim like that?”
The emphasis she puts on the word abandoned grates on my nerves. “I’m his father,” I say firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.
It’s her turn to scoff this time, and it’s almost derisive. “Could’ve fooled me.”
My patience snaps. I sit up straighter, my eyes narrowing as I glare at her. “What did you just say?”
“I said,” she repeats, and presses her palms to the desk while leaning over it, “you could’ve fooled me. Fathers don’t abandon their kids for work. Not good ones, anyway.”
Anger flares hot in my chest. “Who the hell do you think you are?” I demand, my voice rising. “You’ve been here for a few weeks, and you think you know what’s best for Robbie?”
Her gaze doesn’t falter, her expression unwavering. “I’ve been here for a few weeks,” she says evenly, “and I’ve already spent more time with him than you have in his whole life.”
She leans closer, her blue eyes flashing with a fire I’ve never seen in her before. “You left Robbie yesterday. At a museum. In a daycare center that he’s never been to before. He was confused and scared, and you just—” She stops herself, shaking her head. “You just left him.”
I exhale sharply, gripping the armrests of my chair. “I didn’t just leave him. It was an emergency. I made sure he was in a safe place.”
“A safe place?” she echoes, her voice rising. “What about a familiar place? A comforting place? Did it ever cross your mind to call me first? Or were you too busy prioritizing work over your son like you always do?”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, but I mask it with cold indifference. “Youdon’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know more than you think,” she says, her voice trembling slightly.
But her voice is perfectly steady when she continues. “I’m the one who had to pick him up, Cole. I’m the one who had to sit with him while he tried to process why his dad left him there.”
My chest tightens, but I refuse to let her see it. “I did what I had to do. That’s what being a parent is sometimes—making tough decisions.”
Her laugh is bitter, filled with disbelief. “Tough decisions? You call that a tough decision? You didn’t even think twice. You didn’t call. You didn’t ask. You just walked away.”
“That’s enough,” I say, my voice dangerously low.
“No, it’s not enough,” she fires back.
“Get out,” I snap, my voice cold.
She arches a brow, but she doesn’t move.
“I said get out,” I repeat, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. “Leave immediately. Your things will be sent to you.”
Still, she doesn’t move.
My hands curl into fists on the desk as I glare at her. “You’re fired. And don’t think for a second you’ll get your job back at Silver Screen Studios.”
She pushes back away from the desk. Her scoff this time is full of derision. “Oh, another promise broken? Shocker.”
The anger boiling in my chest spills over, and I push my chair back, standing to my full height. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” I shout, stepping around the desk.
She doesn’t back down. Instead, she raises her voice to match mine. “And you have no idea what it’s like to watch Robbie suffer because of you! Because this isn’t just about yesterday. This is about the fact that you’re never there for him, Cole. Not really. You show up when it’s convenient, and the rest of the time, you’re too busy playing CEO to notice that your son is desperate for your attention.”
I step closer, towering over her. “What gives you the right— ”
“I have every right,” she counters, standing her ground. “Because I’m the one who sees the way he looks at the door, hoping you’ll walk through it.”