No Place for You

So Certain, Again

"Surely, no one can measure up after you've been with me. Who else could you possibly meet that's on my level? If you weren't waiting for me, who could you even turn to?"

I let out a long sigh. So that was it. In his eyes, I was never someone who could end up with anything better. That was why he'd walked away so casually back then—and why he now felt so justified coming back.

Just then, the light turned green. I stepped on the gas and, after clearing the intersection, spoke quietly. "Stellan, I'm not joking. I'm married now. I have a child. Once we park, you should leave. I don't want you interfering with my life."

Stellan frowned slightly. "Ivy, do you really think that's enough to fool me? I know you're angry. Throw your tantrum however you want—I'll indulge you until you've had enough and come back to me willingly."

Since words clearly meant nothing to him, I decided to let reality do the talking.

…

"Mommy, why were you so late today?" My boy, Ollie, ran toward me with his arms wide open, smiling sweetly.

"I went back to our old place to grab something. Did I make you wait too long? How about some fries later to make it up to you?"

"Yay!" My son hugged me happily.

Stellan hadn't expected me actually to return holding a child's hand. His expression turned grim instantly. "Ivy, even jokes have limits. How can you just grab someone else's kid like this? If we're being serious, this counts as kidnapping. You could go to prison, you know. Hurry up and return him."

Fuming, Stellan reached out and grabbed Ollie's arm, trying to pull him away. I immediately slapped his hand aside and pulled Ollie into my arms. "What are you doing?"

Just then, a kindergarten teacher noticed us and walked over. "You must be Ollie's dad, right? I've only ever seen Ivy before. Nice to finally meet the father."

Stellan stared at me in shock. "He's really your son?"

"Of course." I was about to leave with Ollie when Stellan suddenly blocked my way and fixed his gaze on the teacher. "How old is the child?"

"He's three, of course."

'Three?!' Stellan grabbed my arms tightly. "Ivy, he's my son, isn't he? Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant back then?!"

"If I'd been carrying your child back then, would you really not have married Amelia?" I questioned, looking at him evenly.

"I…" He faltered, then lowered his head and frowned. "If I hadn't married her, Amelia would've died."

I sneered. "Well, thank goodness I never had your child."

"Ivy, I'll take you and our son home right now. My parents have been waiting years for me to have a child. If you bring him back, they won't care about our different backgrounds anymore."

I nearly rolled my eyes into the back of my head. "Who said anything about leaving with you? I already told you—this isn't your son. Do you not understand human language?"

"Ivy, stop messing around. There's no way I'm letting a Graves grow up outside the family. Why didn't you tell me sooner? How could you let our boy attend a school so old and crowded? What decent education can our boy here?"

I looked at the kindergarten, then at Stellan. This was a state-level affiliated kindergarten. From here, he could feed straight into top-tier elementary, middle, and high schools.

Clearly, Stellan had no clue what that kind of placement meant. His so-called aristocratic schools, full of trust fund babies killing time, couldn't even compare!

I'd specifically asked my husband to transfer our son here because I didn't want him picking up the arrogance and entitlement those trust fund babies were known for. I never imagined Stellan would look down on it like this. It only made me more grateful that I hadn't married such a shallow man back then.

"Stay away from us," I said coldly. "This has nothing to do with you."

"If he's not my son, then whose is he?" Stellan grabbed the teacher's arm. "You tell me—who's listed as the father in the child's records?"