Mom, Don't Cry! Here comes a new Daddy! novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

(Sabrina’s POV)

Sophia’s apartment is twenty minutes from Dustin’s house-my-house.

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Every red light is a small mercy, giving me time to pull myself together before I have to face

my son.

I can’t let Jake see me like this. Broken. Shattered. A woman who just discovered her entire marriage was built on lies.

By the time I pull into Sophia’s parking garage, I’ve cried myself dry. My eyes are swollen, my mascara long gone, but I’ve stopped shaking. At least that’s something.

The elevator ride to the top floor is a blur. I’m barely holding it together when the doors slide open, and there’s Sophia, standing in her doorway like she’s been waiting. One look at my face and her expression shifts from concerned to murderous.

“That bastard.” She doesn’t ask. She just knows. “What did he do?”

The dam breaks again. I stumble forward, and Sophia catches me, pulling me into her arms while I sob into her shoulder. She smells like expensive perfume and the lavender candles she’s always burning, and for a moment, I let myself pretend I’m anywhere but here, anyone

but me.

“He was with her,” I choke out between sobs. “In our bed, Sophia. With Jessica. They were- God, they were-”

“Shh. I know, honey. I know.” Her hand rubs circles on my back, the same way I do for Jake when he has nightmares. “Come inside. Jake’s in the playroom. He can’t see you like this.”

Sophia, my best friend, is a force of nature. She’s the owner of a successful cosmetics company, a woman who built her empire on sheer guts and glitter.

But that’s why we became friends. In our college days, we had the same personality, both being spitfires and a force to be reckoned with.

But after my marriage with Dustin, I kinda shimmered down. Jake’s arrival made me even more soft, gentle, as my motherly instincts awakened.

Today’s incident, however, kindled a spark of the old Sabrina back to life.

Sophia guides me through the entryway into her immaculate living room-all white furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. It’s beautiful and cold and nothing like

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Dustin’s cluttered, toy-filled house that I poured my heart into decorating.

My house. I tell myself sharply. My and my baby’s. Because after he cheated? The house ceased to be his.

And I’ll make damn sure that loses everything by the time I’m through with him.

House. Reputation. Job.

Everything.

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Sophie doesn’t hesitate. She sees the disaster that I am, the tears still tracking lines through the dust on my cheeks, and she just pulls me into her arms.

I collapse against her, finally letting the wall I built crumble. The sob I held in since I saw them on the bed tears its way out, ragged and ugly. I cling to her soft cashmere sweater, burying my face, feeling the shame and the fury mix into something toxic.

After I’ve calmed down enough, she disappears and returns with a box of tissues and a glass of wine. “Drink. Then talk.”

I take a long gulp, not caring that it’s probably some expensive vintage she’s been saving. It burns going down, but it’s a good burn. A cleansing burn.

“Jessica.” The words taste like poison. “She’s his first love. They were together before she left for New York. I was just-I was just a replacement, Sophia. A substitute. Seven years of marriage, and I was just keeping his bed warm until she came back.”

“That lying piece of-” Sophia cuts herself off, her jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jump. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to take my Louboutins and shove them so far up his-”

“He wants Jake.” My voice cracks on my son’s name. “He’s filing for divorce and demanding full custody. And Jessica threatened to fire me if I fight them on it. They’re going to take everything, Sophia. My house, my job, my son. Everything.”

For a long moment, Sophia doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me, her green eyes blazing with a fury I’ve only seen once before-when a business rival tried to steal her company’s formula.

That man’s career was destroyed within a week.

“Over my dead body,” she finally says, her voice deadly calm. “You hear me, Sabrina? Over my dead goddamn body.”

“But how do I fight them? Dustin has money, and now that Jessica’s back in his life, he has connections too. I’m just-”

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“What? A brilliant creative director who’s been carrying that useless man’s career for years?” Sophia leans forward, gripping my hands hard enough to hurt. “Don’t you dare diminish yourself because of that cheating bastard. How many times has Dustin won awards for campaigns you designed? How many clients has he kept because of

your ideas?”

I want to argue, but she’s right. God, she’s right. Every major pitch Dustin made, every award he won, every promotion he got-my ideas were behind them. I just never cared about taking credit because I thought we were a team.

I thought wrong.

“Listen to me.” Sophia’s voice is firm now, businesslike. “First, you’re not going back to Sterling & Co. Jessica can take that job and choke on it. Second, you’re coming to work for me. I’ve been begging you for years to join Phoenix Cosmetics. Our creative director just quit to have her third baby. The position’s yours if you want it.”

“Sophia, you worked hard to get your company to where it is right now. I can’t just-”

“Yes, you can. The pay’s better, the hours are flexible, and more importantly, you won’t be working with your cheating ex-husband and his homewrecking mistress.” She pauses, her expression softening slightly. “Let me help you, Sabrina. Please. You’ve been there for me through every bad breakup, every business disaster. Let me return the favor.”

Before I can respond, there’s a sound from the hallway-small feet padding on hardwood.

“Mom?”

My heart clenches. I turn to see Jake standing in the doorway, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur. He’s in his Spider-Man pajamas, the ones that are getting too small but he refuses to give up. His dark hair is messy, his brown eyes-Dustin’s eyes, damn it-are wide with

concern.

He’s only five, but he reads people better than most adults I know. One look at my face and his little features crumple.

“Did Dad make you cry?”

I’m on my feet in an instant, crossing the room to scoop him into my arms. He’s getting so big, too heavy to carry for long, but right now I need to hold him close, to remind myself why I’m going to fight this battle.

“I’m okay, baby. Mom’s just having a bad day.”

Jake pulls back, his small hands cupping my face. His eyes are serious, older than five. “You’re lying. Grown-ups always say they’re okay when they’re sad. Did Dad hurt you?”

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The question is so direct, so knowing, that I can’t lie to him. But I can’t tell him the truth either -not all of it. Not yet.

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