Chapter 4
Sophie peeked through the peephole, and her expression soured.
"Your soon-to-be ex-husband is here," she said.
Michael was standing outside, still wearing last night's clothes, holding breakfast and some medicine.
Sophie opened the door just a crack.
"If you've got something to say, say it. Don't even think about coming in," Sophie snapped.
Michael ignored her, his eyes locking on me through the narrow gap in the door.
"Olivia, come back home with me," he said.
I didn't move.
"I've already sent the divorce papers to the lawyer. You'll get them at your squad this afternoon," I said.
He set the breakfast bag down by the door.
"I admit I lost my temper last night. As for the cut on your hand, I'll find out exactly what happened," he said.
Sophie let out a laugh.
"Wow, Mr. Carter, you sure are busy. When your wife's window got smashed, you didn't bother to check it out, but now that she's divorcing you, suddenly you're all concerned? What, you think your last-minute affection can pay the property fees?" she shot back.
Michael turned to her.
"Sophie, this is between me and Olivia," he said.
"Oh, so when you were chatting with Emily all night, 'family business' didn't matter, huh?" Sophie shot back.
Michael clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool.
"Emily's a special case," he said.
I looked up.
"Yeah, she's special all right," I said.
When Michael saw me speak up, his tone immediately softened.
"Olivia, I've already arranged for the squad to take turns looking after her. Last night's situation won't happen again," he said.
"You misunderstood," I said.
"What I mean is, she's so special she can make my call for help look like I'm just fighting for your attention," I said.
Michael's face went pale.
"I shouldn't have said that," he admitted.
"And what else?" I pressed.
He fell silent.
Sophie jumped in for me.
"Three months ago, you went with Emily to her prenatal appointment and totally forgot Olivia's birthday. Two months ago, Emily said her leg cramped up in the middle of the night, so you left the dinner for Olivia's mom's memorial.
"Last week, at your squad's award ceremony, Emily got the seat reserved for family while Olivia was stuck in the back row, and you said she couldn't squeeze in because Emily was pregnant," Sophie said.
Michael looked at me.
"You remember all that?" he asked.
"I've got a good memory," I replied.
"Then why didn't you say something sooner?" he asked.
I glanced at the medicine bag in his hand.
"I did. Every time, you just said, 'Emily has it rough,'" I replied.
Michael was left speechless.
The elevator doors opened.
Emily stepped out, cradling her belly, with a young squad member following behind, holding a thermos.
Her face was pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red.
"Olivia, please don't blame Michael. I'm the one to blame," she said.
Sophie swung the door open wide.
"Good, you're here. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down," Sophie said.
Emily edged behind Michael.
"I heard Olivia moved out, and I felt guilty, so I brought over some soup," Emily said.
Sophie eyed her belly.
"You're about to pop, yet you managed to whip up soup and track down my address first thing in the morning? That's pretty resourceful," Sophie said.
The young squad member immediately frowned.
"Hey, what's with the attitude? Emily's just being nice," he said.
Sophie pointed right at him.
"And who are you?" she snapped.
"I'm Ryan Clark, I work under Mr. Carter," he replied.
Ryan shoved the thermos forward, his tone sharp.
"Olivia, Mr. Carter hasn't slept in four days and still came here to smooth things over. That's enough already. Emily almost got hurt by a burglar last night, and she's still thinking about you. Don't be so aggressive," he said.
I stood up from the couch.
"Ryan, did you know I called the cops last night?" I asked.
He froze.
Michael whipped his head around to look at me.
"You called the cops?" he asked.