Black Iris

The basics

Iris

It had been years since I'd seen Daniel. About four, really, given Jackson was about nine months away from his fourth birthday.

Daniel was already at the library when I arrived, waiting outside the doors. I was ready to be yelled at, or at least a passive aggressive attack against me.

But instead, when I climbed out of the car and walked across to where he was waiting by the door, his face just crumpled into relief, and he pulled me into his embrace.

"Evie," he murmured. "I'm so glad to see you."

The hug wasn't sexual, or even romantic. It was just pure relief.

When he finally pulled away, he looked me in the face, a million questions in his eyes.

"You want to see him," I said gently.

He nodded. "Wouldn't you?"

A lump rose in my throat. "Yes. I do. Always."

He frowned at that. "You don't get to..."

I blinked away tears and shook my head. "Not in weeks. It's killing me."

He looked concerned, and confused. "Why... I mean, if it's better for him I get it. Is he with your parents?"

And I had to look away.

"Wait..." he said. "If he's not with your parents, then where?"

I shook my head. "I- I don't know. Blake says he's safe, at least."

He scoffed. "Sorry, Gwen, but I don't trust a single word out that pigs mouth."

"And you think I do?" I said.

"I don't know what to think!" He exclaimed. "You hid a pregnancy, a kid from me, for three years. You've been in and out of the media, backing Blake up, not backing him up, and then you call me to a library in the middle of nowhere to bring a photographer, with no information about why or what the hell is going on."

I bit my lip, looking away. "I know. And you're right. You can't trust him. Neither can I. No one can. And... I'm sorry for lying to you. For never telling you about Jackson. But-"

Then my voice broke, and I struggled to find the words. "It's not about whether or not I trusted Blake. I have never trusted him. But I didn't have a choice. I never had a choice around him. He's been taking my right to choose since I was sixteen years old."

And he went quiet at that. After a long moment, he pulled me into another hug.

"And you're ready to choose?" He asked gently.

"That's what this is," I whispered into his chest. "I'm making a choice."

He pulled away and nodded at me. "Okay. The photographer is already inside. Her name is Ayesha Goodwin, and I've worked with her on a few portrait shoots. I assumed that was what you wanted?"

"Yeah," I murmured.

"Well, she's a good photographer, and a kind person. She'll look after you," he said.

"Thank you," I replied.

"Do you want me to... stay? Or go?"

I looked across at the building, thinking about what I needed to do. "Could you go? What I need to say... I think it would be better if you're not there."

He nodded. "Okay, I understand. Tell Ayesha to send her invoice to me. I'll cover it."

"No, Dan, you don't have to-"