Nick glared at me. "Santos, I know you don't like Lindsay and me together. But Kim's innocent. How could you do this to a four-year-old child?"
I stared at the boy in Lindsay's arms. He was draped over her, making faces at me. Did a four-year-old child really know nothing?
If so, how could he pinch his own hand purple and then blame me? How could he repeatedly bump Lindsay's belly when she was pregnant? If he hadn't scattered marbles in my house on purpose, how could my mother have slipped?
I couldn't help but laugh. Only Lindsay would see him as an innocent child.
I found it darkly funny. Because of them, I'd lost my mother forever.
I slowly pulled myself up. Lindsay's anger seemed to fade as she remembered something. Her tone softened, and she tried to help me up. "Are you okay? Does it hurt? Should we check you out?"
"No need. I'm leaving," I said coldly.
"Check your messages." I'd decided to divorce her and had a lawyer prepare the papers.
Lindsay relaxed when I mentioned the messages. She probably thought I was going to make some demand.
She patted the child. "Okay, I'll check out soon."
I glanced at her and then left without another word.
This time, Lindsay didn't try to stop me.