Post-Divorce Unwanted Kid: Receipts for Every Spend Chapter 09

Post-Divorce Unwanted Kid: Receipts for Every Spend Chapter 09 Feeding My Baby Gwen

Whenever I asked what he was working on, he’d just brush me off.

Then one day, I got a text from an unknown number.

“Want to know why Harrison’s helping you? Come to this address.”

It was some high-end care facility. I went.

Finished

Inside the room, I found an elderly man lying in bed and a middle-aged guy peeling an apple. The man glanced up at me and smiled. “You must be Gwen?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Harrison’s father, Byron Ford.”

Byron set down the knife. “Harrison pulled family strings to help with your lawsuit, and he turned down a Sterling Boulevard position for your project. Do you have any idea what that means for him?”

I froze. I’d always thought Harrison was just some wealthy tech genius. I had no idea he was the heir to Imperial Group.

“He’s a genius, and he shouldn’t be held back by romantic entanglements.” Byron pulled out a check. “Five million dollars. Leave him and let him get his life back on track.”

What a cliché move. I looked at that check and actually laughed.

“Mr.

“Mr. Ford, you think Harrison’s worth five million dollars?”

Byron frowned. “Not enough?”

“No.” I pushed the check back across the table. “I’m saying I’m not worth five million dollars. But what Harrison and I have? That’s priceless.”

“Besides,” I looked him straight in the eye, “he’s the one who got involved with me first. If you want me gone, he can tell me himself.”

As I turned to leave, I heard Byron sigh behind me. “That stubborn streak. Just like that kid of mine.”

I walked out of the facility and found Harrison leaning against his car, cigarette butts scattered at his feet. He’d obviously been waiting for a while.

“Did the old man get to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he offer you money?”

“Yeah, five million dollars.”

Harrison raised an eyebrow. “You took it?”

“Nope.” I walked over to him. “Not enough.””

He laughed and pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on top of my head. His voice came out rough. “Idiot. If you’re selling me out for five million dollars, that’s a terrible deal.”

“So what are you worth?”

“Everything I own is already on your computer. You tell me.”

My heart skipped a beat. He’d already given me everything.

Three years later, Gwendolyn Technologies went public. As the youngest female CEO of a publicly traded company, I stood on the platform ready to ring the opening bell. Down below, Harrison still wore his usual black jacket and smiled up at me.

A reporter asked, “Ms. Preston, we heard your startup was inspired by a receipt?”

I looked straight at the camera. “Yeah. Someone once told me every penny needed to be accounted for, so I learned to keep track.” I paused. “But I need to thank someone else too. He taught me that some things can’t be measured in money. Like trust. Like love.”

After the IPO celebration ended, I got a letter from prison. David wrote it. The whole thing was full of apologies, saying he was doing great in rehab and hoping I’d visit. He’d even included a hand-drawn birthday card.

I glanced at it and fed it straight into the shredder. Too little, too late. I didn’t need it anymore.

When I got home, Harrison was cooking in the kitchen, and the smell of ribs drifted out. “You’re back? Wash your hands and eat.”

I walked over and hugged him from behind. “Harrison.”

“Yeah?”

“Do I need to pay you back for dinner today?”

Harrison turned around and kissed me. “Yeah. With your body.”

Outside the window, fireworks went off-ten thousand times more beautiful than the ones David had set off for my stepbrother back then.

My phone buzzed with a new group chat notification. The chat name read, “Feeding My Babe Gwen.”

Harrison had posted, “Today’s dinner-ribs, pan-seared salmon, and sautéed green beans. Cost, Gwen’s entire future.”

‘I laughed and hit approve.

Someone had finally taken on this baggage, and at premium value too.