My Ex Husband Treated My Son Without Knowing He Was His Chapter 04

My Ex Husband Treated My Son Without Knowing He Was His Chapter 04

Monday.

Something went sideways at the company.

“They came back. Apex is holding firm at thirty-five percent.” Elaine’s face said it all.

“Reason?”

“They’re saying it came straight from Arthur Hayes. And if we don’t agree, they’ll pivot to a competitor.”

“Competitor? There’s no one in our space at our level.”

“They dropped a name. VitalCore Solutions.”

I set down my pen.

VitalCore.

Three months old. Founded by my former head of engineering, who walked out with two of my best hardware guys.

Their product was still in R&D. Not even close to market-ready.

And Apex was threatening me with a company that had nothing to show?

“They’re bluffing.”

“I think so too. But what if they are serious? We need that Eastern corridor.”

I thought for a moment.

“Get me a meeting with Arthur Hayes. No more middlemen.”

“You sure you want to go direct?”

“At that table, I’m Evelyn Sterling, the Founder of Sterling MedTech. That’s the only identity that exists.”

Elaine hesitated, then made the call.

She was back in five.

“It’s set. Wednesday, Apex headquarters. Arthur Hayes himself.”

“Okay.”

Wednesday.

I took one breath in the elevator. Forty-eighth floor.

Arthur Hayes.

Last time I saw him was five years ago.

Back when I was still a Hayes daughter-in-law.

He’d sat across from me in the Hayes family living room, a coffee table between us, and said, “Evelyn, you’re not the kind of wife this family needs. Here’s a hundred thousand dollars. Sign and leave.”

I didn’t take the money.

But I signed. And I left.

The elevator doors opened.

Claire Blanc was waiting.

Dior today. Sharper and more formal.

“Ms. Sterling. Mr. Hayes is expecting you.”

I pushed through the door.

A sprawling corner office and floor-to-ceiling windows.

A man in his sixties stood facing the glass, phone to his ear. Silver-gray hair but straight spine. The kind of presence that sucked the air out of a room.

Arthur Hayes.

He hung up. Turned around.

At the sight of me, his gaze locked for exactly one second.

Then it smoothed over.

“Ms. Sterling. Please. Sit.”

He wasn’t sure.

Five years had done a lot. The girl from back then—twenty-three, no makeup, a dress from the clearance rack at Target—she didn’t look anything like the woman sitting in front of him now.

But his eyes told me something was tugging at him.

“Mr. Hayes. The framework negotiations stalled over the revenue split. I wanted to discuss it with you directly.”

“Straight to business. I appreciate that.” He settled into his chair. “The thirty-five percent was my call. I have my reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“Apex’s channel value isn’t just distribution. It’s after-sales support and training infrastructure. Those costs add up. Thirty-five is fair.”

“I’ve done my homework. Sixty percent of your after-sales teams are outsourced. The training program launched last year and its coverage is under forty percent. Thirty-five percent buys a mature system. Not one that’s still under construction.”

He smiled.

“You did your research.”

“A partnership means both sides win. It’s not a concession. Thirty percent. And I’ll throw in first-wave training support for your teams to save your labor costs.”

He studied me for ten seconds.

“Ms. Sterling. You remind me of someone.”

I lifted my teacup.

“Who?”

“Someone I underestimated once.”

Claire glanced up from her notes.

“Thirty-one percent,” Hayes said. “The extra point is a personal investment.”

“Done.”

I stood and extended my hand.

He stood up and shook my hand with a strong grip.

“Ms. Sterling. Claire will handle the rest of the logistics.”

“Fine.”

I turned toward the door.

I was almost there when his voice came from behind me.

“Evelyn Sterling.”

Not Ms. Sterling. My full name.

“You’ve built something impressive.”

I didn’t turn around.

“Thank you.”

Out in the hallway. Claire fell into step beside me.

“Ms. Sterling. Mr. Hayes seemed to like you.”

“Let’s hope he likes the partnership.”

She smiled. Said nothing else.

He’d recognized me.

Arthur knew exactly who I was.

He’d just chosen not to say it out loud.

The daughter-in-law he’d tried to pay off with a hundred grand was now sitting across the table negotiating a multi-million-dollar deal.

That probably didn’t sit well.

I sat in my car for five minutes after pulling out of the Apex garage.

My phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered.

“Evelyn.”

That voice.

Low. Cool. A scratch at the edges.

Nathan Hayes.

“How did you get this number?”

“You brought our son to the ER two nights ago. Contact info’s in the EMR system.”

I closed my eyes.

“What do you want, Dr. Hayes?”

Silence. Two beats.

“The lab work came back. One of his levels is elevated. Needs a follow-up. Bring him in tomorrow.”

“Which level?”

“Eosinophils. Point eight two. Normal range tops out at point five two. That could be allergies or something else. Probably nothing serious, but it needs a workup.”

“Okay.”

“Tomorrow. Ten a.m. Third floor, pediatrics. Ask for me.”

“You’re emergency surgery. Not pediatrics.”

“I cover both. That night was a shift fill.”

“Right.”

More silence.

“Evelyn—”

I hung up.

My thumb hit the button without a flicker of hesitation.

He’d said my name.

He’d recognized me.

Maybe he’d known that night in the ER and kept his mouth shut because the nurse was in the room. Maybe he’d pulled the chart later and confirmed it.

Didn’t matter.

Recognizing me changed nothing.

I didn’t need a single thing from him.

I’d find another doctor for the follow-up.

I called a pediatrician I knew and booked an appointment at a different hospital.

Not Mercy General.

No Nathan Hayes.

That night. I was at home reviewing contracts.

Doorbell rang.

The nanny answered.

“Ms. Sterling? Someone dropped this off. Said it was from the hospital.”

A manila envelope.

Inside were a full lab report and a handwritten note.

I knew the handwriting.

[Eosinophils: 0.82 × 10⁹/L. Normal range: 0.02–0.52. Recommend follow-up with allergy panel ASAP. —Nathan]

He’d had the report delivered to my house.

He knew my address.

The EMR system had everything.

I put the report in a drawer. The note went in the trash.

I picked up my phone. Sent one text.

[Report received. Follow-up scheduled elsewhere. Do not come to my house again.]

After that, I blocked him.