Chapter 13
Anwen did not return to maid work.
Not at my estate.
Not anywhere.
She told me she wanted months with Theo first.
I paid child support.
Directly.
No strings.
She resisted initially.
“I can work.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you thinking—”
“I don’t.”
That stopped her.
Then:
“This is for Theo.”
She looked at me.
“And if I spend it?”
“You’re his mother.”
Trust felt frightening to her.
Understandable.
Felice had turned every dollar into supervision.
So I refused to repeat that.
Anwen kept her own apartment.
Also important.
I offered a cottage on the estate.
She declined.
No offense.
Good.
We developed a rhythm.
Theo spent mornings with me twice a week.
Then afternoons.
Eventually overnight once he knew my house enough not to wake terrified.
Anwen remained nearby the first time.
Not because I demanded.
Because she wanted to.
At two in the morning Theo started crying.
I picked him up.
Wrong hold.
He cried harder.
Anwen appeared at the doorway trying not to laugh.
“Support his head.”
“I run a criminal empire.”
“Congratulations.”
She took Theo.
Instant silence.
Humiliating.
Useful.
I asked:
“Will he ever like me?”
“He likes you.”
“He screams.”
“He screams at me too.”
That helped more than it should have.
Parenthood apparently democratizes failure.
I began understanding something Felice never did.
Being important to a child is not winning against the other parent.
Theo could need Anwen completely and still grow to need me differently.
May you like
Love was not the pool money.
It did not become less because someone else held part.
