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The air between us is thick with tension, our voices echoing off the walls as the argument spirals into a storm of accusations and insults.
“Get out!” I roar again, pointing toward the door. “Now. You’re not to come back. Not to the house, not to the studios. You will never see Robbie again.”
“Fine!” she yells back, her voice shaking with fury. “I’ll leave. And your son can lose one of the only people in his life who actually gives a shit about him!”
The words hit like a slap, but I don’t let it show. “You have noidea how I feel about my son,” I bite out.
Her next words are a knife twisting in my chest. “Your son has no idea either. Or he wouldn’t have asked me last night why his daddy doesn’t love him!”
The room falls silent. Her words hang in the air as I freeze in place.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
Annie doesn’t stop, though. Her voice breaks, but her anger burns brighter than ever.
“To be honest, I’m wondering the same thing. Do you have any idea what it’s like to sit there and hear that? To sit there and try to find a way to convince that little boy that you actually care about him?”
She throws her arms out wide. “How do I explain to him that, despite the fact that you don’t spend time with him and that you abandon him in random places for work emergencies, you love him more than anything. Even though I have no idea if it’s true. Because I’ve been asking myself the same damn question!”
Her words slam into me, each one sharper than the last. I can’t think, can’t breathe.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’ve truly failed. Not as a CEO, not as a businessman, but as a father.
My mind races with memories of Robbie—his shy smiles, the way he clutches Rexy like a lifeline, the quiet moments when I see glimpses of the little boy he is underneath all that hesitation.
“I love my son,” I say finally, my voice strained.
“Is it a secret?” Her question slices through the racing thoughts in my mind.
I blink, stunned, and for a moment, I can’t even process the words. My chest tightens as I struggle to form a coherent thought. Annie, however, doesn’t give me the luxury of time.
“Because that’s how it feels, Cole,” she continues, a little softer. “Like you’re keeping it locked away in some vault. Robbie doesn’t know it, and honestly? Neither do I.”
“Stop,” I say hoarsely, shaking my head.
But she doesn’t stop. She steps closer, her gaze fierce, unwavering. “No. You need to hear this. You need to understand what you’re doing—what you’renotdoing. Robbie loves you so much it hurts to watch. You’re like his hero. Other than dinosaurs, you’re the only thing he talks about. And all he gets in return are crumbs. Just crumbs. And barely that!”
My fists clench at my sides, the tension in my body coiling tighter with every word. “I do the best I can,” I manage, my voice low, almost pleading.
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince. Her or myself.
“Do you?” she snaps. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it. You prioritize everything else—your job, your meetings, your reputation—and your son gets whatever’s left over. Though that’s not much, is it?”
“That’s enough,” I growl, the anger bubbling over again. “You don’t get to stand there and pass judgment on me. You don’t know what it’s like to be in my position.”
“No,” she agrees, her tone icy. “I don’t know what it’s like to be a parent and big, important CEO. But I know what it’s like to care about a little boy who feels like he’s not enough for his own father. And I know what it’s like to feel powerless to fix it.”
Her words hit hard, and I turn away, unable to meet her gaze. My eyes land on my organized desk—the contracts, the files, the neatly stacked folders that represent the carefully curated world I’ve built.
“I’ve done everything I can to give Robbie a good life,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“A good life?” Annie repeats, her laugh humorless. “A good life isn’t just a big house and private school. It’s being there for him. It’s showing up. It’s making him feel like he matters to you.”
I whip around to face her, the fire in her eyes mirrored in me. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I’m doing enough? If I’m enough?”
“Then do something about it!” she yells, throwing her hands up. “Stop making excuses, stop hiding behind your work, and be the father he needs.”
The room falls silent again, the echo of her words settling into the air like dust. My breathing is shallow, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to process everything she’ssaid.