I raised my cast. The bruising was dark now, purple and blue, the swelling worse. “You didn’t even come downstairs, Jacob.”
He looked like he’d been slapped.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
Jacob placed the folder on the coffee table and slid it toward me. “We can’t afford another co-signer,” he said. “They’re giving us seventy-two hours to update the application or the home goes to the next buyer. We’ll lose the house.”
I looked down at the folder. Mortgage terms. Updated rates. A plea typed out in desperation.
“Do you want me back in your lives?” I asked.
Jacob hesitated, then nodded.
“Do you want me in this baby’s life?”
Another nod, slower.
I turned to Ellie. “And you?”
She shrugged. “You’re his mom, not mine. I’ll tolerate you if you sign those papers.”
And just like that, the mask dropped. She didn’t want family. She wanted security. Her voice was hollow of warmth but full of expectation.
I smiled gently and walked to the coffee table. I sat down, opened the folder, picked up the pen, clicked it, and paused.
“I’ll sign it if you apologize out loud, right now.”
Ellie’s face twisted. “You’re seriously going to make this about pride?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m making it about respect.”