Chapter 9

"Roy, that's your Mommy. Say 'Mommy'," Shawn coaxed gently. I widened my eyes, every fiber of my being resisting. "No, I'm not!" I shouted instinctively. Roy seemed startled by my sudden outburst. He pressed his lips together, and his round eyes welled up with tears. Seeing this, I clenched my hands tightly and forced myself to look away. One of my employees, a young woman named Elyse Doyle, hurried over. "Is this your son? He's adorable!" she gushed. "No," I croaked. "I don't know them. He's not my son." "Yvonne, Roy may be young, but he understands—" Before Shawn could finish, Elyse piped up. "Sir, I think you've got the wrong person. That's my boss. Her name isn't Yvonne; it's Phoebe." Shawn's expression stiffened at the unfamiliar name, but still, he insisted, "I don't care what her name is. She's still my wife and the mother of my son." I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to look at them. Turning to Elyse, I said, "We're closing up early today. Please ask the others