The bitch is back

Ash

Avoiding the press for the next month until the governor’s election is going to be challenging to say the least, but I promised my dad I would. Appearances are important to that man, more important than anything. He has even gone so far as to hire a woman to be his fiancé during the election to look more like a family man.

The three of us are going to be stuck at home until it’s over, but I don't mind. At least if I have to be stuck somewhere with someone, it’s in my house with Stella and Cannon.

I don’t like hiding my relationship with Stella. Especially, since her parents did a bang-up job of damaging her self-esteem recently. The second the election is over I’m taking her out on the town, and I'm going to kiss her everywhere we go. Our picture will be plastered all over the tabloids, and for once I will welcome it.

I don’t care what my dad says about living in sin. He’s been living in sin off and on since I was born. He's a fucking hypocrite. His bed was like a revolving door, and I’m not proud to say the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

I was a man-whore, I’ll admit it, but Stella changed all that with her country smile and her sexy ass. She actually makes me feel like the sexiest man alive. That stupid title is a joke between us now, but when she looks at me, I own it.

The way she is with Cannon is nothing short of amazing. She’s captured his heart, and he never wants it back, things are perfect, too perfect.

So when Abigail showed up on my doorstep this morning asking to see Cannon, I wasn’t that surprised.

“Hey, Ashton, you’re looking well.”

“Abigail, what are you doing here?”

I happened to be passing through the foyer when Wesley answered the door. There standing on the threshold of my home was a very different looking Abigail Nelson than I remember from five years ago.

Her blonde hair is long and shiny, unlike the bland stringy clumps she had going on the last time I checked on her. Her curves have returned in all the right places. Her skin is clear and glowing, not marred with acne from pumping drugs into her body on an hourly basis. And if I had to guess, I'd say her modest navy blue sleeveless dress looks like it's Versace.

In other words, she’s cleaned up her act. She either found herself a sugar daddy, or she became a high-priced call girl. I'd bet money on the latter of the two options.

“I wondered if we could talk.”

“You show up on my doorstep unannounced and uninvited after five years, and you want to talk? Tell me why I should talk to you, Abigail.”

She shifts her weight from one red bottomed high heel to the other and bites the inside of her mouth. She’s nervous. Good, she fucking should be.

“I, uh, I wanted to talk about Cannon,” she says raising her chin to look at me straight on.

“What is there to talk about? You haven’t seen him since he was a week old, I think that ship has sailed.”

“I was hoping you would let me get to know him. I’m clean, I haven’t used in a year, and I’m trying to put the pieces of my life back together, and you and Cannon were the biggest pieces of my life. Leaving you both was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Please, let me try to make amends.”

“Make amends? Abigail, you abandoned your son at birth, there’s no way to make amends for that.”

“I was sick. I’m not making excuses. I know what I did was appalling and inexcusable, but I’m still here asking, begging if you make me, to let me be a part of his life. You don’t even have to tell him I’m his mother right away if you don't want to.”

I snarl at the idea of telling Cannon that Abigail is his mother. Stella is more of a mother to him than Abigail ever was or could be.

She steps closer wringing her hands. “Or ever, if that’s how you want it. I’m only asking to know him. However you want to do that is fine with me. Please, don’t shut me out, I deserve to be punished for what I did, but he doesn’t. He should know his mama, Ashton, you know I’m right.”

“I do not know that, but here’s what I do know. That little boy upstairs is happy, well-adjusted, smart, handsome as hell, and he is loved more than any kid you or I will ever know. He doesn’t need complications, new people, or strangers in his life. You might have changed, and that’s great, I wish you the best. But nothing will ever make up for the five years you’ve been MIA.”

She takes another step forward in a bold move to pass by me. And for what? Is she planning to search a thirty thousand square foot home for one little four-year-old boy? I sidestep and block her from going any further into the foyer. “Abigail, where do you think you’re going?”

“Please, Ashton, let me see him. He doesn’t have to see me. I just want to know what he looks like, that he’s happy.”

“You don’t have that right anymore. And he is beautiful and happy, take my word for it. Now, do I have to call security or will you be leaving on your own?”

“I’m prepared to go to court for visitation rights. I thought you should hear that from me instead of your lawyer. I don’t want it this way. I’d much rather figure it out between us, but if you’re not going to give me a second chance I’ll do what I have to.”

“Call your lawyer then, but remember who you’re dealing with, Abigail. I don’t know how you’re going to pay a lawyer. I don’t know how you’re earning a living these days, but my legal team will not back down from this. You can expect to be wiped out financially, not to mention my dad is running for Governor, and he has a lot of influence in the courts. Is this worth losing everything you have over?”

Squaring her shoulders, she slides her handbag out from under her arm and grips in both hands, “Yes, my son is that important to me.”

“You're too little, too late, honey, don't waste your time.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ll have my lawyer contact yours. I’m sorry I interrupted your day, thank you for seeing me, I'll see myself out. Have a nice day.”

She turns on her expensive heel, and Wesley, who has been standing behind her with his jaw hanging open listening to every word, opens the door for her.

Have a nice day? Have a fucking nice day? The woman who threw fuel on the fire of my abandonment issues five years ago is telling me to have a nice day? Okay, so I knew something was going to come along and give us some trouble since things were going so well, but this?

So my ex-fiancé wants to be a part of Cannon’s life, does she? I hope she’s got deep pockets and a lot of time on her hands because he will be eighteen years old before she can cut through all the red tape my lawyers are gonna throw her way.

“Ash? Are you coming or should we just start the movie without you?” Stella asks from the balcony on the second floor overlooking the foyer.

“No, no, I’m coming right now. I got distracted for a minute.”

“Who was that at the door?”

Shit, I was hoping she hadn’t seen Abigail. “It was a ghost from my past, don’t worry about it. We better get to the theater room before Cannon eats all the popcorn and spills his drink on the carpet.”

“That only happened once and it was because his cup was too big for his little hands.”

She’s always got his back. I love that about her. And she doesn't press about Abigail. She knows I’ll come to her when I’m ready to talk about it. But first I want to get my legal team on this, then when I mention it to Stella I’ll have a plan, and she won’t have to worry. And she would worry, a lot. Stella slipped into our lives and took on the role of wife and mother effortlessly, as if it were meant to be.

And it is meant to be. Someday I’m going to ask her to formally accept those positions in our lives and the only difference between then and now will be a sheet of paper that says we’re married.

“Yeah, you’re right, darlin’. I’ll be right there. I just have to take care of one thing first. Go ahead and start.”

She leans over with her arms crossed on the railing, “You sure? We can wait.”

“I’m sure. It’ll only be a minute.”

“Mm-hm, I’ve heard that before,” she says smiling. She knows a minute can easily turn into an hour or two, but I try not to let that happen very often.

Tucking my hands in the front pockets of my jeans, I pucker my lips and blow her a kiss, before heading to my office to alert my lawyers that we might have a problem. Scratch that, we do have a problem. Abigail wouldn’t show up out of the blue making threats unless she had some backing. Someone is helping her, and I'm going to find out who that someone is.