Chapter 6: The Fallout on the Patio
As the police officers led Percy out the side gate in handcuffs, the backyard descended into a stunned, breathless silence.
Jordan was still on his knees on the concrete patio. He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot, his designer shirt soaked in sweat. The arrogant man who had strutted into my backyard just fifteen minutes earlier was completely gone, replaced by a terrified, broken shell.
"Maya," he choked out, crawling a foot toward me across the stone. "Maya, please. You have to help me. Call your lawyer. Tell them we can pool our settlement money to hire a defense attorney—if I don't clear those corporate escrow accounts by Monday, my partners are going to press federal charges!"
I looked down at him. For months, I had cried myself to sleep wondering what was wrong with me, wondering why twenty years of loyalty and four children weren't enough for him.
In that single moment, looking at him groveling on my pool deck, the last remnant of my heartbreak evaporated.
"Your settlement money?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Jordan, you spent the last six months hiding your income and claiming you were too broke to pay child support for a six-month-old baby. You built this trap yourself."
"I'm the father of your kids!" he sobbed, looking frantically toward the deep end of the pool where Toby and his friends were standing. "Toby! Tell your mother! Don't let her do this to me!"
Toby didn't walk toward him. My fifteen-year-old son crossed his arms, jaw set, and stepped in front of his younger siblings to block their view of their father's meltdown.
"Get out of our yard, Dad," Toby said clearly over the water. "You're ruining my birthday."
Jordan flinched as if he had been struck.
May you like
Clark stepped forward, inserting his tall frame smoothly between Jordan and my family. "You heard your son, Jordan. You can walk out the gate on your own two feet, or I can have the detectives come back inside for you. Your choice."
Jordan stumbled to his feet, trembling violently. He didn't look back at me, and he didn't look at his children. He hung his head and practically sprinted out the side gate, leaving the heavy wooden door to slam shut behind him.
