The Way Back | ✓

3.6

note: Happy Valentine's Day! 

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If Andrew was going to play by Talia's rules he'd have to face Simon Allerton, someone who he was not yet ready to see. But it was the only way he was going to see his daughter, the only way he was going to spend time with her this weekend so he swallowed down his anger and disgust and pressed the bell.

The door opened a second later to reveal a dressed up Talia. She was wearing a pencil skirt, a beige blouse and her hair was done well. She, as always, looked beautiful.

"Good morning, Talia," he grinned. He couldn't wipe the smirk off his face even if he wanted to. It gave him so much satisfaction to see that shocked expression on her face.

"I brought you breakfast in case you were running late," he continued, sidestepping her body and heading to the kitchen. Nothing had changed since he was last here and yet he still felt like an invader. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten that you work half days on Saturday. I thought I could spend time with our daughter."

He stressed on our as he set the package down on the kitchen counter, so that Talia could know that Aurora was as much her child and she was his.

He heard the clicking of her heels come to a halt and turning with a forced smile, he said, "I'm not taking her out so really you can't say anything about that."

Talia recovered, her expression changing from shocked to anger in a split second. "You can't be here," she said, her excuse stupid and not thought out. He'd had since Tuesday night to plan this. His plans did not allow for flaws.

"Who says so?" he questioned, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I say so," Talia fired, her voice firm but Andrew wasn't the least bit discouraged.

"Why? Because you have physical custody over our daughter?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You keep saying that like it means something."

"And you keep saying our daughter like it means something."

He snapped. "It does mean something. She's our child. Your child and mine — ours. Not just yours, Talia, and don't give me some bullshit about owning up to responsibilities and making time. I am making time. I work half days on Saturday, you know that, but I stopped. Why? To quote your words 'You've been working towards that promotion for ages but face it, Andy, that financial director position is just not going to be yours'. Well, I've faced it, Talia, so I dropped sacrificing my weekends—"

She faltered, rushing in lamely, "That's not what I meant."

"I don't care what you meant," he cut through, done tiptoeing around her. "I'm actually allowed to be here this weekend, as the contract states. I'm allowed to take my daughter out, I'm allowed to spend time with her. But because I'm not a terrible person and you want me to run my plans by you first I won't be taking Aurora anywhere. That doesn't mean I can't have fun with my own daughter in the house that I paid for."

Talia was silent, her useless excuses run out.

"About that," came another voice seconds later and both Talia and Andrew turned to look at who had entered the kitchen. Simon stood there in a pair of grey sweatpants and a white cotton t-shirt, socks covering his feet.

Andrew tried not to let the scowl show on his face but his morning wasn't exactly off to a great start and he found that he had not the energy nor the patience to keep up pretences.