Written with Regret (The Regret Duet #1)(27)

Me: Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Hadley: No. We need to talk. I can come to you if it’s easier.



I blinked at my phone. What mental institution had this whack job escaped from? I’d had her escorted off my property by the police only hours earlier and now she could come to me if it was easier? Seriously? First thing in the morning, I was asking Doug to file an emergency restraining order. This woman was certifiable.

But it was funny, because even knowing that, I couldn’t stop my curiosity.



Me: And what in the hell do you think we have to talk about?

Hadley: We have a four-year-old to discuss.

Me: Fuck that. I have a four-year old. You have nothing.

Hadley: Fair enough. But we still need to talk about her.



Me: Then contact my attorneys. You had nine months while you were pregnant to talk to me. Then another four years after you handed my daughter off to a prostitute. Your time to talk has passed. Delete my number and do us all a favor and disappear again.



I waited, holding my breath until my lungs burned as the text bubble danced at the bottom of the screen. I was expecting a dissertation for as long as it took her to reply.



Hadley: You’re right. I messed up.



She’d messed up?

She’d fucking messed up?

Messing up would be showing up to dinner late or locking your keys in your car. What she had done was not even remotely in the same category as messed up.



Me: I think you need a mental evaluation.

Hadley: I’ve had one. My attorney should be mailing it over to your legal team first thing in the morning. I also submitted to a DNA test, full health panel, and background check. I have nothing to hide, Caven. I just want to explain.

Me: Sorry. But I don’t have four years to spend on that wasted trip down memory lane.

Hadley: I get it. You hate me. I can’t even blame you for it. I have no right to ask you for anything. But if you give me a few minutes of your time, I’ll explain what happened the night I snuck out of your apartment. And while I was pregnant. And when I made the decision to leave her with you. And most of all, why I’ve stayed gone as long as I have. It’s one conversation. If it changes nothing, then you’ve wasted nothing but time. But at least then you’ll have all the answers to why you hate me.



I must have read that message a dozen times. I shouldn’t have done it. I should have turned my phone off, put it on the nightstand, woken up the next morning, changed my number, and filed a restraining order. But there was a part of me that desperately wanted to hear her out.

There was nothing she could say that would change my mind about her. But it wasn’t my opinion that mattered. If she wanted to give me some bullshit explanation, tell me why she’d stolen my stuff and dumped my kid, I’d be happy to listen.

And after I recorded the entire conversation…so would a judge.



Me: American Diner on the corner of Broad and Park. I’ll meet you there in thirty.

Hadley: Thank you.



Tomorrow morning when the cops showed up at her door, she wouldn’t be thanking me.

But I would celebrate that victory all the same.

After typing out a message asking Alejandra to come to the main house, I inched my way out from under Rosalee’s arm and prepared for war.





I saw her the minute I opened the door to the diner. She was discreetly tucked away in a back corner, but like a moth to a flame, my eyes were instantly drawn to her. It was hard not to notice a woman like Hadley. Every man who had walked through the doors in the thirty minutes I’d purposely kept her waiting had no doubt noticed her too. She was absolutely stunning.

Unfortunately, Hadley had never been anything but a black widow waiting to inject her poison into my life.

I pressed record on my cell phone as I got closer, her emerald-green eyes tracking my movement.

I fucking hated the way relief colored her face as if she’d been expecting me not to come.

She didn’t deserve even a second of relief, and it made me want to turn around and leave to spite her. But I hadn’t left my daughter alone in bed on her birthday to pick up a slice of pie from the local diner.

I wanted answers, and as much as I lied to myself and said I was only there to record her, I secretly wanted to know what the fuck was so damn important that she’d been able to walk away from her own daughter and never look back.

“Thanks for coming,” she said as I slid into the booth, taking a seat across from her.

She had an empty coffee mug in front of her, surrounded by a dozen little balls of rolled-up napkin. If I had to take a guess, I’d venture to say half the population did that when they were bored or nervous. But seeing those balls in front of Hadley pissed me off to no end.

Because Rosalee did it too.

She smiled weakly. “Do you want some coffee or something? I can grab the waitress.”

“Talk,” I rumbled. “Just fucking talk. Say whatever the hell you dragged me out here tonight to say.”

She closed her eyes, her long lashes nearly brushing her cheek. “I never meant for any of this to happen. But I do realize that the majority of it is my fault.”

“Majority.” I laughed, propping my elbows on the table and intertwining my hands. “I’d highly suggest you recalibrate your culpability if you want me to hear you out.”