Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Of course, Drew appeared at that moment. “What happened?”
“I touched the hot pan. It’s not bad, just stings a little.”
Drew took my hand out of the stream of running cold water, inspected it, and returned it when he was done.
“I’ll serve. Go sit. I don’t want to end up in the ER for a third time already this year.”
We spent the entire dinner catching up, since we hadn’t exactly spoken too much last night or this morning—unless you counted communicating with our bodies. Drew filled me in on his custody-trial strategy, and I told him about some new clients I’d taken on. The entire thing felt bizarrely domestic and natural. After we were done eating, Drew loaded the dishwasher while I cleaned the counters and table.
“Where was that picture taken of Beck fishing? He looked so adorable in his little waders.”
“Upstate. Roman has a cabin in the mountains up in New Paltz. It’s rustic, but has a big old clawfoot bathtub you’d like. We should go up in the spring.”
“I’d love that.”
A few hours later, we were brushing our teeth and getting ready for bed when Drew said, “Tess called today.”
“Who?”
“My secretary. She said her doctor thinks she can come back part time in two weeks. Her recovery after the hip surgery is better than expected, and moving around is good as part of her physical therapy.”
“That’s great.” In the whirlwind of the last month, I hadn’t really been looking for a new office. The first week I’d called one real estate agent, who’d shown me closet space in areas I didn’t want to be for more than twice my budget. I’d taken a break after that. Although at the moment, the thought of what I could get for my money wasn’t half as depressing as the thought of not seeing Drew everyday anymore.
“I’m sorry. I need to get back to looking for new space.”
Drew’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I rinsed my mouth and spoke to Drew in the mirror. “Our deal. You let me stay while your secretary was out in exchange for answering the phones and helping out until I found a new place.”
He turned me around with his hands on my shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I can’t afford to pay my share of what the rent must be for your office.”
“We’ll work something out.”
“But—”
He silenced me with a kiss, but kept his face close to mine. “We’ll figure it out. Let us just get through dealing with this shit in Atlanta, and then we’ll sit down and talk about it, if you want. Okay?”
I didn’t want to add any more stress to what he was already feeling, so I nodded. “Okay.”
It wasn’t until we’d gotten into bed, and I ran the entire day through my mind, that I connected some of the dots from the last few hours.
“Roman has a cabin in the mountains up in New Paltz. We should go up in the spring.”
“We’ll figure it out. Let us just get through dealing with this shit in Atlanta…”
“How did you know Dad was the right one for you?”
“I stopped using the word I when I looked into the future.”
Drew was settling into we as much as I was, whether he was aware of it or not.
When he slipped into bed next to me, I wrapped my arms around him tight. Maybe, just maybe, neither one of us had found the right one before now…because we hadn’t met each other yet.
Chapter 40
Drew
It had been the longest three weeks of my life.
The bailiff called the court into session. Judge Walliford took his sweet-ass time—I’m sure he’d call it proper southern time—to walk to the bench. Then he sat and rifled through a bunch of papers. Roman sat in the first row of the gallery right behind me, and he leaned forward to squeeze my shoulder for reassurance as I waited to find out how much my visitation was going to take a hit. I knew it was coming. I just had no idea how bad it would be.
The last time I was this nervous, this on edge about what was going to happen to the rest of my life, was the day I married Alexa. And we know how that fucking turned out. I looked over at my for-once-conservatively-dressed ex-wife. She, of course, stared straight ahead, not returning my stare. That woman was a piece of work.
Finally, Walliford finished shuffling papers around and cleared his throat before diving into a bunch of formalities for the record. “Docket numb-ah 179920-16. Jagger vs. Jagger. Petition for reduction in custody. Cross motion to compel relocation and enforce the previous signed custody agreement.”
Then he finally looked up. “Be-fo-wah I git started with my decisions, I’d like to take a moment to say that this was not an easy case. I had to consider the rights of both parties present in this courtroom, the rights of a biological father who was robbed of years of bonding with his son, as well as what is in the best interest of the boy.”