“What?”
“My father. My fucking nutjob of a father.”
“What did he do now?”
He thrust the piece of paper at me. “See for yourself.”
I rapidly read the document. “Francine Stokes. Is that your ex? Henry’s mom, right?”
He nodded.
“She—” I gasped. “What? He paid her a hundred thousand dollars to give up her rights to Henry?”
“It sure looks that way.”
“Oh my God.”
“She called me last week,” Bryce said. “She wanted to see Henry. I told her no. I always figured she’d given up her rights voluntarily, so why should I let her come near my son? What kind of mother does that?”
“A mother who gets a hundred grand, apparently,” I said.
“There’s more to it than that,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not a mother, but let me ask you this anyway. How much money would it take for you to give up your own child?”
My mouth dropped open. He was right. I wasn’t a mother, but I had two little boys I loved, and I’d never give either of them up for any amount of money.
Which was exactly his point.
“Somehow she found out my father is dead now, so she wants to see Henry.”
“Are you going to allow it?”
“I wasn’t, but now everything’s different.”
“She still gave him up for money, no matter how you look at it.”
“Yeah, she did, but my father didn’t play fair. You can bet on it.”
“You mean he held a gun to her head?”
“In a manner of speaking. It might have been a metaphorical gun. A mindfuck. Apparently my father was good at that.”
“Bryce, you can’t lose Henry.” My heart nearly stopped. That little boy was everything to Bryce.
“No, I can’t. I won’t.”
“She gave up her rights. Whether it was voluntarily or not shouldn’t matter.” Even I didn’t believe what I was saying.
“She was so adamant when she called. She sounded desperate,” Bryce said, his eyes tormented. “I treated her like shit.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You thought she’d given him up.”
“I should have been able to foresee this. This has my father’s stench all over it.”
“You’re not a mind reader, Bryce.”