The Ex Who Stole My Delivery Room - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

My body locked in place, eyes glued to Harris's face as the media frenzy erupted around us. Camera flashes blinded me while reporters shouted over each other. This had to be some twisted nightmare I couldn't escape.
Harris's searching gaze held equal parts worry and exhilaration. "Darcy, where have you been?" His voice cut through the media circus, louder than necessary.
I shook my head, trying to process his audacity. After ditching me at the hospital to play nursemaid to Cindy, now he wanted to perform concern? My attention snapped to the cameras pointed our way. The last thing I needed was becoming tabloid fodder - especially with Ethan nearby. Speaking of... I glanced at my son happily playing with the orphans before turning on my heel and marching out without a word.
Harris, predictably, followed. At least the vultures with microphones stayed put.
"Darcy," he grabbed my hands, voice dripping with fake hurt, "Why are you treating me like this? Don't you care anymore?"
"With Cindy and her kid worshipping the ground you walk on?" I scoffed. "Why would you need my concern?"
His grip tightened as he lowered his voice. "You've got Cindy all wrong. Do you have any idea how your little public outburst wrecked their lives? I'm just cleaning up your mess."
He continued, laying it on thick: "Cindy's still recovering from the online harassment. Layla's photos got leaked everywhere. We're terrified kids will bully her at school because of one careless comment from you. Don't you feel any remorse?"
Layla. The name he'd picked for our daughter. Now plastered on his mistress's kid. I didn't know whether to laugh or vomit.
"Just make a public statement," he begged. "Say you misunderstood our relationship, that Cindy wasn't why we divorced."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "So this whole concerned husband act was for the cameras? You just want me to rehab your side piece's reputation?"
"Sorry, Harris," I added sweetly, "But my mother raised me to tell the truth."
His face went sheet-white. Before I could react, he yanked me into a suffocating embrace. "You're twisting everything!" he hissed. "I'm just trying to protect an innocent child from suffering. If you won't help, fine. But don't accuse me of not caring about you."
His voice cracked with theatrical emotion. "My feelings for you are real. I've searched for you for years, Darcy—"
"Dada! Why are you hugging the mean lady?"
A tiny, imperious voice sliced through his performance. Harris's arms went slack as we both turned to face a miniature Cindy clone glaring daggers at me.
"Only Mommy hugs Dada like that. Go away!" the brat commanded.
"Layla—" Harris started, but the three-year-old instantly switched tactics. Tears welled in her big eyes as she sniffled, "Dada, are you leaving me and Mommy for her? The camera men said she came to steal you!"
Harris melted instantly. "Oh, my sweet girl," he cooed, wiping her crocodile tears with fatherly devotion. "No one's taking me from my little angel. I'll always be here."
"With Mommy too?" she pressed.
He hesitated, avoiding my gaze. "...Yes. With Mommy too."
The demon spawn immediately started jumping and making grotesque faces at me. "Go away, evil lady! Dada loves me and Mommy, not you!"
My nails dug into my palms. Never in my life had I wanted to punt a child more. But I kept my cool, focusing on Ethan playing nearby. Time to exit this circus.
As I turned to leave, Harris grabbed me again. "Don't take it personally," he pleaded. "She's just a kid."
Right. Just a kid spouting the exact phrases her gold-digging mother probably rehearsed with her. Classy family values all around.