Upon hearing this, Briony’s gaze instinctively drifted down to Irwin’s bare feet sticking out from under his pants
They were filthy–ten tiny toes, red and raw from the cold,
She couldn’t help but frown.
The female officer, catching Briony’s look of concern, let out a sigh and said gently, “I can see you have a good heart. Even if he’s not your own child, he still calls you ‘Mom‘ Don’t send him away, not after everything he’s been through.”
Briony
pressed her lips together and stayed silent.
“It’s not easy for any family,” the officer added. “Whatever’s happened between you and his father, just set it aside for now. Focus on the boy–he’s had a rough time.”
In the end, Irwin was allowed to stay.
Once the police left, Briony led him to the lounge bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting it to a warm temperature.
“Wash your feet,” she told him, holding out the showerhead.
Briony used to do things like this for him herself.
Irwin could sense she was still upset. Though he felt a little aggrieved, he didn’t dare complain. Whatever Briony told him to do, he obeyed without a word.
When his feet were clean, Briony handed him a towel. “Dry off.”
Irwin took the towel and quietly patted his feet dry.
There was nothing of Irwin’s left in the apartment, so Briony fetched her own slippers and handed them to him. He shuffled awkwardly in the too–big slippers, struggling to walk without tripping.
Briony didn’t pay him much attention. She grabbed a short jacket she rarely wore and passed it to him. “Put this on for now. I’ll call your father to come get you.”
Irwin slipped on the jacket and sat there quietly.
Briony stepped out of the lounge to call Stewart.
But all she got was a busy signal.
She sat down on the sofa, her expression cold.
Irwin emerged from the lounge and scrambled up onto the sofa beside her, sitting obediently, careful not to touch her.
Briony turned her head, looking down at his small, anxious face.
Irwin immediately dropped his head, nervously twisting the zipper of the jacket in his hands.
Briony’s emotions were a tangled knot.
She knew the boy was innocent. She knew it wasn’t fair to let adult grievances spill over onto a child. But every time she remembered who he was, she just couldn’t treat him the same way she used to.
She tore her gaze away and dialed Stewart’s number again.
This time, he picked up.
Before Stewart could say a word, Briony cut in. “Irwin’s here with me. Come pick him up.”
Chapter 150
“He came to you?” Stewart paused, concern in his voice. “Is he alright?”
“The police brought him,” Briony replied coolly, glancing at Irwin. “Bring clothes and shoes for him.”
“Alright.”
With Stewart’s answer, Briony hung up
“Mom?”
Irwin tugged gently at her sleeve.
Briony frowned, looking down at him.
He gazed up at her, eyes wide and pleading. “Mom, do you really not want to be my mom anymore?”
“Irwin, you have your own mother. Her name is Rosita.”
Briony met his eyes, her voice icy. “I’m not your mother. From now on, don’t tell people I am. What you the police today caused me a lot of trouble.”
Irwin stared at her, stunned.
All the confusion and hurt in his eyes was impossible to hide.
Briony couldn’t bear to look any longer. She turned away.
Irwin frowned, remembering what Mom Rosita once told him-
or belly if
“if a woman is really pregnant, she’ll instinctively protect there’s danger.”
He lowered his head and caught sight of a magazine on the floor by the sofa.
Is Mom really having a baby?
said to
Irwin bit his lip, snatched up the magazine, and–suddenly, in a burst of anger–hurled it at Briony’s stomach.
20
