“I’m Aurielo, Karina’s husband,” I say, shaking hands and introducing myself to Ashton’s teacher.
She’s short, barely five feet, and wearing a long, flowing dress that matches her deep brunette hair.
“Oh, I didn’t realize she was married! I’m Ms. Brown,” the woman says.
I bite my tongue. That won’t be hard to remember.
“We recently tied the knot,” I say, giving a warm smile and firm handshake.
We exchange brief pleasantries before she rushes off to the next parent.
“Whydidyou marry my sister?” Ivy asks, emphasizing her question. She grabs Ashton’s hand and heads away from the school, down the sidewalk.
“I parked that way.” I point in the opposite direction that we’re heading. I can see my car parked on the street.
“Do you have a car seat?” She stops in front of her mini crunch car.
“Yes, I bought one on the way here,” I smirk, pleased that I have one-upped her.
“Well, I’m not relinquishing him to you. My sister told me to bring him over to her work.”
She pops the trunk of the car.
“What are you doing?” She’s not going to put the kid in the trunk, is she?
The car is a two-door, barely any space, and if anyone hits the back of the vehicle, they’ll crush the life out of my son.
“This is your car?” I ask.
She takes Ashton’s backpack and drops it tersely into the trunk, slamming the lid shut.
“Yeah. So?”
“My son isn’t riding in the backseat of that deathtrap!”
She has to be crazy thinking it’s safe to drive him around the city in that two-door piece of crap.
“He’s ridden in it every day after school until you decided to show up and be a father to your son!”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me!” Ivy snarls at me and steps closer, jabbing my chest with her finger. “You deserted my sister after you knocked her up! What kind of person does that? She told you she was pregnant, and you said you wanted nothing to do with her.”
“Whoa!” I knock her arms down and take a step back. “Karina never came to me. She didn’t tell me a damned thing about being pregnant. I married her to protect her and save her life. I had no clue she was a mother, let alone the kid was mine.”
Her face turns ghastly. Her eyes are wide in horror.
Is she going to be sick?
“She told me she reached out to the father.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.”
Am I not the kid’s father? Does Ashton have a father out there that abandoned him? Or did Karina lie to her sister?
She rubs at her temples. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I don’t even like you.”
“Feelings mutual,” I retort. Not that there’s a rule against having conversations with people I don’t like. I have plenty of them, usually in dark cellars or the basement prison.