Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 150

Chapter 145: Making Sure She Stays For Nick

Sedona’s POV

Claim

I thought about what December had meant two weeks ago-the despair I felt, for a long time before I finally got better, that I would go back and fight for my son thinking that I had time on my end and that Catherine would not be a permanent fixture in his life because I had told her that she could not get used to the harsh truth of being a mum to a child like Nick who needed special diets and formulas because of his fragile body system but Catherine had not fled which meant she was genuinely here for Nick or she was too desperate not to let go.

I thought about Mrs Peterson voice when she’d said I’ll make sure it’s him who calls.

She was on my side.

She had always been, in the quiet reliable way that didn’t create conflict and didn’t announce itself, on my side.

I sat up.

The room was the room it had always been-my tennis trophies on the shelf, the framed photo of me and Cameron at the junior nationals, the morning light making its patient rectangle on the opposite wall. The room that had held me at seventeen and twenty and twenty-eight, the room that had kept the shape of me while I was away.

I wasn’t waiting for December.

I’d told myself December because December had felt like the right interval, because it would have given me enough recovery time, enough stability, enough time to build the ground under the decision before making it. But someone was building in it in ways I didn’t account for and I was worried that when I would get there, there would be no more reason for me to be there.

Catherine early on a weekday morning to get Nick to accept her, and show that she won’t abandon him like I did.

Nick still asking about me, holding onto the hope that I might return despite Catherine’s efforts.

Mrs. Peterson making sure it would be him who called.

I picked up my phone again.

Not to call anyone-i had made all the calls I wanted to make at the moment but it was to have something to do with my hands.

Nick was five.

He would be officially six in February, which was a long time from being that post oarun mum after delivery being told her son may not survive due to the complications.

7:3

Making Sure She Stays For Nick

Claim

I’d taught him the rules of his body. I’d made them into a game because games were how six-year-olds Tearned things that needed to stay learned.

Somewhere in a kitchen in Chicago, that knowledge was still in him, he was still carrying the things that I had taught him.

That wasn’t nothing.

He was also six years old and it had been three months and children’s relationship with time was different from adults’ and every day that passed was a day where the shape of normal was being defined by what was present and available.

I wasn’t waiting for December.

I’d get better-I was getting better, Frank had said so, the markers said so, my own body’s increasing willingness to do what I asked it to do said so. I’d get better and I’d figure out, on my own terms and at my own pace, how to reach my son in a way that wasn’t mediated by Logan or Catherine or anyone else who had an investment in the path.

Mrs. Peterson had given me the opening because she knew what I wanted and what Catherine’s presence was and she was kind hearted person to not let me suffer when she can help out.

I was going to use it and not waste it. I had given up on Nick because I thought I wouldn’t make it so I didn’t want to take him just to traumatised him by dying but now that I had been given a second chance on earth, I was going to go after my son.

lay back on the pillow and looked at the morning light and thought about a six-year-old coming home from school in-I did the math-approximately seven hours, and about a phone that would ring, and about what I was going to say when it did..

Nick’s POV

I knew something was happeningz although I had no idea what it actually was but I could feel the anticipation building up slowly in the house.

I didn’t say I knew. That was the thing I’d figured out this year, that knowing something and saying you knew it were different things, and that sometimes it was better to just know it quietly and wait to see what happened next.

Mom used to do that. She used to know things and not say them right away. I used to think that was because she was slow with seeing it wmd needed more time before getting to it but now I think it was because she was thinking.

Dad was gone.

He’d been gone for a long time. Longer than a work trip. Work trips were usually four days, sometimes five Dad had been gone for-I counted on my fingers under the breakfast table, where Catherine couldn’t see- a lot more than five.

Catherine said he was busy.

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