Passion's Crossfire

Chapter 123

Adam

The next morning, I wake up early, careful not to disturb Mallory. She needs the rest, and I don't want to disrupt the peace she deserves. After getting dressed quietly, I slip out of the room and head towards the hospital. The lawyer is set to deliver the divorce papers to my mother soon, and I want to be with my father when that happens, in case she decides to confront him. "In case," although I'm certain she will be furious.

Now that everything is out in the open, my father has finally left the hospital. He's staying at a hotel for the time being, unwilling to return home until my mother has moved out. I enter the hotel lobby, a place that feels both unfamiliar and cold. I approach the receptionist, my voice steady, "Julian Christensen?"

"Suite 601," she replies with a friendly smile.

"Thank you," I acknowledge before making my way to the elevator. Stepping out on the sixth floor, I walk to my father's suite and knock on the door. To my surprise, Aunt Lily opens it.

"Hey, little boss," she greets with a warm smile.

"Aunt Lily," I respond, pulling her into a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I called her, son," my dad says, rolling his eyes at me. I chuckle at his eye-roll, shaking my head as I enter the room.

"Any word from the lawyer?" I ask, getting straight to the point.

"He just called me. He handed the papers to Ava," my dad replies, a hint of weariness in his voice. "She almost bit his head off; she was furious," he adds.

"I bet she was," I mumble, picturing my mother's reaction.

"She must be on her way here," my dad says, his expression serious, and I nod in agreement.

"Why on earth did you allow your lawyer to tell her where you are, Julian?" Aunt Lily asks, exasperated.

"Lily, I have to confront her. I can't hide forever," my dad explains, a sense of determination in his voice.

"I agree," I chime in, aligning myself with my father's decision. Aunt Lily shakes her head, clearly conflicted.

"She doesn't deserve it, Julian," she says quietly.

Aunt Lily shakes her head. "She doesn't deserve it, Julian," she says quietly.

"I know she doesn't, Lily. It's not about what she deserves but what needs to be done. She won't stop trying to see me; the sooner it's done, the sooner she'll be out of our lives for good," my father explains, his voice carrying a mix of determination and weariness. Aunt Lily sighs and turns away, gazing out of the window.

"Lily, maybe you shouldn't be here," he suggests, and I turn my head to him. I glance at Aunt Lily, who now faces him with a surprised look on her face.

"You know how she is; I don't want you caught in the crossfire," he adds, concern etched on his face. Aunt Lily's expression softens.

"Julian... I want to be here for you," she says, taking a step toward him.

"Dad is right," I interject, and they both turn their attention to me. "It will make her outburst worse."

"She never liked you," my dad says to Aunt Lily.

Aunt Lily snorts, "Well, I never liked her either," she declares, a hint of defiance in her voice. She sighs, seemingly resigned. "I'll go. Call me?" she requests, and my dad nods in acknowledgment. She picks up her bag and shuffles my hair affectionately. "Bye, little boss," she says before exiting the room.

We sit in silence, the minutes passing like hours, a heavy tension lingering in the air. A sharp knock on the door interrupts the stillness, and we exchange glances. My mother's voice, filled with anger, seeps through the wooden barrier.

"Julian, open this door right now!"

My dad doesn't hesitate. He opens the door, and my mother barges in, her eyes ablaze with fury.

"Julian!" she seethes, her eyes locking onto my father.

"Ava," he replies, his voice steady.

"How dare you serve me with these papers?" she accuses, waving the documents in the air.

"It's time for us to move on, Ava," my dad says, his patience wearing thin.

"You think you can just leave me?" she shouts, her face contorting with rage.

"This is not about leaving you, Ava. It's about ending a toxic cycle," he retorts.

My mother's eyes narrow at my father's words, and her anger intensifies. "Toxic cycle? You ungrateful piece of—"

"Dad is right, Mom," I interject, stepping forward. "This isn't healthy for anyone. It's time for both of you to find your own paths."

My mother's gaze shifts from my father to me, and her eyes blaze with resentment. "You've always been on his side, haven't you?" she accuses, pointing a finger at me.

"It's not about sides, Mom. It's about doing what's right," I reply calmly, trying to diffuse the escalating tension.

"Right? You're betraying your own mother! I should have known better than to trust you," she spits out, venom in her words.

"I'm not betraying anyone. I just want everyone to find peace," I assert, maintaining my composure.

"Peace? You think this will bring peace?" she scoffs, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"That's enough, Ava!" my father's voice erupts, startling her. "You have some nerve talking about betrayal. How dare you say that word in front of me? In front of your son?" He continues yelling at her, his frustration boiling over. "You dare come in here and demand an explanation, after you have been fucking John for God knows how long?" He takes menacing steps towards her.

My mother, clearly taken aback, takes a few steps back. "Leave, Ava. Get the hell out of my house and out of our lives!" My father's voice is low, gravelly, and threatening, cutting through the air like a knife.

She turns to look at me, tears welling up in her eyes. "Adam?" she pleads, desperation in her voice.

I shake my head, a heavy weight in my chest. "You made your bed, Mom," I say, my tone firm and resolute.

"You have two days to leave my house," my dad declares, his voice filled with a cold finality that sends shivers down my spine. It's a harsh ultimatum, but one that has been a long time coming. My mother turns to look at him, for once seemingly speechless in the face of his stern determination.

"Get the fuck out," my dad adds through gritted teeth.

"You'll re-" she starts to say, and I interrupt her, frustration and anger boiling over. "Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me! What, Mom? We will regret this? What are you going to do? This is all your fault, Mom! This is all on you! Accept that! And get out!" I yell at her, my voice carrying a mix of resentment and disappointment.

My mom covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with shock as she looks at me and then at my father. In the brief pause that follows, she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as if trying to compose herself. Without uttering another word, she turns around and leaves the room.