“I met Leo.”
There was a long pause.
Then Wendy sighed sharply.
“She trapped you, Ivan. I knew once you deployed that she would use a baby to hold you back and damage your military career. I did what any protective mother would have done.”
“You lied,” I said. Anger burned behind my eyes. “You answered a letter meant for me. You lied to Jessi and kept my son from me for seven years.”
“I saved your future!” she snapped.
“No,” I said. “You destroyed my family. Don’t call me again, and don’t come to my hotel. I’m going to repair what you broke.”
Then I ended the call.
For most of that Christmas night, sleep never came. I kept seeing Leo’s face every time I closed my eyes. I thought about seven birthdays I had missed, seven Christmas mornings when he had opened presents without knowing my name, seven years of scraped knees, school photographs, illnesses, jokes, fears, and ordinary afternoons that no apology could return to me.
