He Brought Me a College Guy, Saying I’d Never Touch Him—But I Kept Him Chapter 12

He Brought Me a College Guy, Saying I’d Never Touch Him—But I Kept Him Chapter 12

Nathaniel leaned against the bookshelf and forced a smile.

“That woman,” he said, trying to sound casual. “She’s really something. She can handle anything.”

Eugene stared at him. Didn’t respond.

Nathaniel licked his lips and looked away from his father’s face.

“Okay, okay. I told you, the divorce isn’t real. We agreed. Once the baby comes, we’re getting back together.”

“She agreed too. A bunch of our friends saw it.”

“She can come back anytime. Why are you so worried?”

Nathaniel felt more convinced as he talked. His voice steadied.

“And you know she’s not in great health.”

“Those years were hard on her. Cassidy is young. Let her have the baby, and Isabella can raise it. She doesn’t have to go through childbirth, and there’s a kid in the house. It works out perfectly.”

He finished and looked at his father, waiting for approval.

But Eugene’s expression hadn’t shifted at all.

“She agreed?”

The two words were soft, but they made Nathaniel’s skin prickle.

“How exactly did she agree? What did she say, word for word?”

Nathaniel stood there and realized he couldn’t answer that question.

He tried to remember. What had she said?

He couldn’t recall.

She didn’t nod. She didn’t shake her head.

What had her face looked like in that moment?

Had she hesitated? Had she gone quiet? Had her eyes gone red?

He couldn’t remember any of it.

But why would he? She said okay, so he believed her.

If she wasn’t okay, she could have spoken up.

“You bastard. You’re the one who forced her to have no choice but to agree.” Eugene picked up a crystal ashtray and hurled it.

Nathaniel didn’t dodge in time.

The blunt pain exploded above his eye. Blood ran down his brow bone.

He wiped at it, but he didn’t feel anything.

Cassidy burst in from outside the study. One hand on her stomach, the other reaching for his wound.

“Mr. Hawthorne, this is all my fault. Please don’t blame Nate anymore.”

She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. A list of baby names, covered in handwriting.

“He’s only doing this for the baby. You don’t want your first grandchild to be called a bastard, do you?”

The word “bastard” landed like a rock.

Cassidy turned to Nathaniel. “Nate, show your dad the names we picked for the baby.”

She thought she was helping. But it only made him angrier.

He ripped the paper out of her hand and tore it to pieces.

“How many times do I have to say it?” His voice was sharp. “Only Isabella gets to name this child.”

Cassidy’s smile froze.

Eugene waved a hand, exhausted. “Get out. Both of you. Get out.”

Nathaniel turned and walked away.

Cassidy followed, her eyes red.

The housekeeper saw the blood and ran for the first aid kit.

“Mr. Hawthorne, sit down. Let me clean that up.”

Nathaniel ignored her.

His eyes landed on something bright red on the coffee table.

“What is that?”

The housekeeper kept working as she answered. “Oh, that. It came in the mail yesterday. An invitation. I think they sent it to the wrong address. It had Mrs. Hawthorne’s name on it.”

Nathaniel’s gaze snapped back.

“What did you say? Whose name?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne’s.”

The housekeeper didn’t know they were divorced.

“But Mrs. Hawthorne is already married. So this invitation must be a mistake.”

An invitation?

Isabella’s name?

Nathaniel picked it up and opened it.

His pupils dilated.