The Cheater [JenLisa]

Chapter 27

Today was her first real visit to Jennie's apartment to see Gail. Somi had insisted she go alone at first—to establish a personal bond, without pressure, without interference.

Liam was already with Somi at home, watching cartoons and clinging to her, his little hand wrapped around hers.

Lisa kissed his forehead before leaving, whispering, "I'll be back soon, little man and my little Ken don't be too hard."

The elevator ride up was slow, tension tightening in her chest with every floor. She had rehearsed this visit a thousand times in her head—what she would say, how she would hold Gail, how she would interact with Jennie. But none of it prepared her for the sight that greeted her when the door swung open.

Blake.

He stood by the doorway like a sentinel, sharp suit impeccable, hands folded behind him. His cold eyes swept over Lisa as though she were a problem he had to calculate. Jennie's hair fell loose over her shoulders, softening her expression, but Blake's presence immediately made the room feel smaller, heavier, hostile.

"Lisa," Jennie said softly, her voice trying to anchor the tension. "It's okay, she's—"

"Wait," Blake interrupted, his voice icy, precise. "You're... here?"

Lisa's jaw clenched. She squared her shoulders. "I'm here to see Gail."

Blake's eyes flicked to the baby in Jennie's arms, then back to Lisa. "I see." The words were flat, devoid of warmth. His gaze lingered, cold and calculating, as if he were weighing whether Lisa posed a threat.

Lisa's stomach twisted. She had anticipated tension with Jennie—but not him. And she knew immediately that Blake had been part of Jennie's life for years now, a constant shadow in her world.

Jennie stepped forward, placing a hand on Blake's arm. "Blake, please. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Blake's jaw tightened, but he didn't move. "I'm just observing," he said smoothly, though the sharp edge in his tone betrayed him.

Lisa forced herself to breathe, keeping her eyes on Gail. The baby gurgled softly, reaching for her finger instinctively. Lisa knelt slowly, extending a hand. Gail grasped it immediately, tiny fingers curling around hers.

Jennie's lips quivered as she watched the moment. "See? She remembers you," she whispered.

Lisa's chest ached at the sight, but she pushed the emotion down. Gail was her daughter—her responsibility—but she would not allow Blake's presence to shake her. She stood slowly, facing Jennie. "I'm here for her. Nothing else matters."

Blake's gaze hardened. "You know, Lisa... appearances matter. Especially for her." His tone was almost mocking, precise as if each word was measured. "You wouldn't want to ruin that for her, would you?"

Lisa's eyes flashed. "I don't care about appearances. I care about my child."
Blake's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't escalate. Instead, he gave a cold nod, the tiniest acknowledgment of her defiance.

"Then I'll leave you to it—for now."

Jennie exhaled, shoulders slumping as Blake strode toward the door. "He doesn't mean that," she said, almost defensively, but Lisa barely heard her.
Once the door clicked shut, Lisa turned fully to Jennie, voice firm.

"This isn't about you. It's about Gail. Blake has nothing to do with her, and he will not intimidate me."

Jennie nodded quickly, relief flickering across her face. "I know. I'm sorry... he—he can be overprotective."
Lisa's eyes softened slightly, but only enough to let Jennie see the humanity beneath the controlled exterior.

"Overprotective or not, this is my child. I will not be sidelined."

Gail cooed again, reaching up for Lisa's face. The instinct to cradle her daughter was overwhelming, but Lisa reminded herself to stay composed. She lifted Gail carefully, holding her close. The baby nuzzled into her chest, warm and trusting, and Lisa felt a surge of fierce protectiveness unlike anything else.

Jennie's eyes glistened. "She's... she's good with you."

Lisa nodded, adjusting Gail in her arms. "Of course she is. I'm her Dad."

Jennie hesitated, then spoke, voice softer, almost vulnerable. "I wanted... I wanted this to feel normal, at least a little. I didn't want Blake's presence to ruin today."

Lisa's jaw tightened. "It wasn't my plan to meet him. But this isn't about him. Gail doesn't need his approval—she doesn't need anyone's. She needs me."

Jennie bit her lip, eyes flicking down.

"You're right."

For a long moment, they stood there in silence. Gail gurgled, stretching her tiny arms toward Lisa. Lisa kissed the top of her daughter's head, savoring the small connection.

Jennie stepped closer, hesitant. "Can I... watch? I mean, I don't want to interfere, but—"

Lisa shook her head gently, firm but not unkind. "This is my time with her. Just like you have your moments. But you don't get to control it. Not anymore."

Jennie's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, a small acknowledgment of boundaries finally set.

Gail squirmed, reaching for Lisa's face again. Lisa laughed softly, a short, quiet sound, and lifted her daughter slightly higher. "See, she likes me."

Jennie exhaled, a mixture of relief and sorrow. "She does. You... you're perfect for her. I don't mean... not in the way we—just... you belong to her."

Lisa's expression remained steady. "I belong to her. That's all that matters."

The weight of the visit was heavy, but it was real. No illusions. No dangerous emotions for Jennie. Just Hana. Just her.

As Lisa stepped back into the hallway, she paused, glancing once more at Jennie through the half-open door. Blake had not returned yet, and Jennie's posture was small, almost vulnerable. Lisa didn't pity her. She didn't forgive her.

But she acknowledged the truth: Jennie's mistakes were hers alone. Gail's existence was hers alone. And Lisa would fiercely protect that bond, even if it meant keeping her distance, navigating boundaries, and standing firm against the shadows of the past.
Inside the apartment, Jennie watched quietly as Lisa straightened, collecting herself. Gail sat on the floor with a few soft toys, cooing and reaching for Jennie's hands. The connection between mother and daughter was delicate and precious, but Lisa knew she had her role to play—as Gail's parent, yes, but also as a force of consistency and care that Jennie could no longer dictate.

Lisa exhaled and turned toward the door. Somi was waiting outside in the car, Liam leaning against her, half-asleep, clutching a small toy for comfort. The sight of them anchored Lisa, reminding her of the family she had built and the life she was protecting.

"Did it go okay?" Somi asked gently as Lisa opened the car door.

Lisa nodded, her expression firm, though her chest still ached with the weight of everything she'd seen. "It went... well. Gail is... healthy, happy. And she knows me. That's enough for now."

Somi reached over, brushing Lisa's hair back, a silent acknowledgment of strength—not over Jennie, not over the past—but over the chaos Lisa had survived. "Good. That's all I needed to hear."

Lisa climbed into the car, letting herself finally relax against Somi's side. She didn't need to forgive Jennie. She didn't need to fall again.

All she needed was the knowledge that she was there, that she was part of Gail's life, and that she had a family waiting for her at home with Somi and Liam.

The ride back was quiet. Lisa's eyes occasionally drifted toward Jennie's building, toward the tiny silhouette of her daughter inside. A pang of longing brushed past her—but it was tempered by resolve. She would protect Gail, fiercely and firmly, on her own terms.