I'm relieved when I get off work and spend the evening with Madisyn. I should probably want to go home, spend time with Mark, and talk about our problems.
But I'm not over Mark's drama and jealousy. A little time apart would be good for us. I text him that I'm having dinner over at Madisyn's.
He doesn't answer.
I head into the apartment, and he's seated in front of the television watching sports while Bay is banging pots and pans around in the kitchen. At least the noise sounds like it's coming from the kitchen.
"Mama!" Bay squeals and runs toward me, dropping the metal pans to the floor, making a clanking sound.
I grimace from the noise but pull my favorite little toddler into my arms for a hug and several kisses. "I missed you," I say.
"Missed you," she says and clings to me as though her life depends on it. I lift her into my arms, and she keeps a tight hold around my neck.
I stalk across the room, trying to get Mark's attention. I don't want to fight with him. I ask, "Did you get my text?"
"Yeah. That's fine," Mark says. His attention is on the television. He's barely glanced in my direction.
"I'm going to take Bay with me. You're welcome to come," I say, inviting him. Although Madisyn didn't ask him to dinner, it feels wrong ditching him. If he agrees to come with me, I'll bring a dish and text her on the way.
"Who is going to be there?" Mark asks, glancing at me. He brings a glass of scotch to his lips and takes a swig.
He's never touched alcohol while we dated.
"Madisyn and her boyfriend, Mikhail."
"As long as that barbarian isn't going, I'm good here. I'll just watch the game. Have fun."
"Do you mean Luka?" I ask. "Because he has a name." I'm growing tired of his jealousy and his antics.
"Yeah, I don’t want you taking Bay to see him."
"It's not your decision to make. She's my daughter, and he's her biological—"
"Donor," Mark interjects.
"I'm leaving," I say and head for the door. I put Bay down to bundle her up in her purple coat, hat, and gloves. I don't want to take a chance that she'll be cold outside.
Mark stands. "You didn't answer my question."
"I didn't realize that you asked one." I secure both gloves on Bay's hands before grabbing my coat off the hook.
He strides across the living room for the door. "Is Luka going to be there?"
"Honestly, I don't know." If Madisyn has her way, he'll be there, but he could have plans and not show up, which would be fine with me. I've had all the drama that I can deal with for one day.
"I don't want you taking Bay with you if Luka will be there." He shoves his palm against the front door, blocking us from leaving.
"Are you serious? I'm not doing this with you, Mark." I button my coat and grab my keys. He's managed to fully block the front door, his back to the entrance, his arms folded across his chest. "Move."
He doesn't budge.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Bay stays here with me. She likes watching basketball." He glances past me, checking out the scores on the screen.
"Really? Last I saw, she was playing in the kitchen by herself." I lift Bay into my arms, protecting her. There's no way in hell I'm leaving her here tonight with Mark. What the hell has gotten into him? "Move out of the way," I say.
"Why? So, you can play house with your new boyfriend? He doesn't love you, Hannah. He won't love you, not like I can. I'll always be there for you."
He grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my biceps.
"Don't do this," he says, his breath wreaking of alcohol.
How much did he have to drink? I grimace. His grip is forceful and strong. "Let go of me."
His hold doesn't lighten. "Do you think he wants you or anything to do with your little brat?"
"You don't know what you're saying, Mark. You're drunk." I elbow him in the stomach, forcing him to double over while I slip out of the apartment with Bay in my arms. I hurry down to the car, buckling her into the backseat.
I keep glancing over my shoulder, waiting to see if Mark follows us outside. He's not a man to let things go, and that worries me almost as much as his jealousy.