by Leigh, T. K.
She sets down her pen, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t want to worry you with a thousand what-ifs, not until we know for sure.”
“But I need to know,” I insist louder than I intend, but I can’t control it. Those girls are my life. I can’t lose either of them. Even the thought of walking by an empty bedroom guts me. “I need to know what I’m up against here.” My voice shakes as I struggle to blink back my tears, a hand gripping my heart and ripping it from my body.
Alice studies me for a moment, then relents with a sigh. In her line of work, I’m sure she deals with emotional parents daily. “Regardless of the outcome of the paternity test, I’ll file a motion contesting physical custody...of both girls. We start at the extreme and hope to settle somewhere in the middle. You have the law on your side here. You’ve been the sole caregiver for six years. You’re financially stable and have built a solid support system. Carla abandoned them with no communication for six years. Not a stellar track record.”
“And if the paternity test comes back negative?” My voice catches. When Brooklyn’s hand rests on my thigh, I’m surrounded by comfort once more. In my life, I’ve done many things I’m not proud of, but I’m grateful she’s able to look past it all for now, to be my rock when I feel like I’m ready to crumble.
“We’ll ask for an order of non-parental custody. It’s not easy—”
“What’s required?”
Her brows pull in as she assesses me, debating what to say. Then she tents her fingers in front of her. “First, you have to show a long-standing relationship with the child and that you’re able to care for her. Obviously, that won’t be difficult to prove. You also must show it’s not only in the child’s best interests, but it would be to her detriment if she’s taken from you. That one may be a little more difficult, but still not impossible. DCF will need to be involved, of course.” Her eyes briefly float to Brooklyn, then back to me as she leans forward. “If I get this in front of the right judge, we have a good chance of prevailing, especially since granting full physical custody to Carla would rip Charlotte away from not only you, but the only life she’s ever known, which could be extremely detrimental to her emotional development at such a young age.” She reaches for the motion, scrutinizing it once more. “Now, this man she claims is the biological father of Charlotte... Chase Gardner.” She perks up, looking at me from over the papers.
“Yes. It’s that Chase Gardner.”
“Do you know if he’s still in the picture?”
I shake my head. “She was with a different man when I ran into her last month. I assumed it was her husband. She was wearing a ring and they had a little boy with them. Probably around three or so.”
“Good. If the child’s biological parents are married at the time we petition for non-parental custody, that usually works against you. All of this may become a non-issue anyway if the paternity test establishes you as the biological father. No matter what that test reveals, I promise I will protect your rights as those little girls’ father, regardless of whether your blood runs through one, both, or neither of them. In my eyes, it doesn’t matter. You raised them. You’re their father. And I will work tirelessly to make the court see it that way, too.”
“Thank you, Ms. DeMico. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“No need to thank me. And please, call me Alice.” She jots down an address on the back of a business card and hands it to me, standing from her desk. “This is where you need to go for the paternity test. I’ll call over there right now and tell them to expect you. This isn’t something I’d put off. The sooner you all provide a sample, the better.”
“How long does it take to get the results?” I raise myself from the chair, helping Brooklyn from hers. I place my hand on her lower back. I should be more conscious to keep my distance around her, but this feels right. Her warmth, her affection, her…love?
“It can take upwards of a month unless you request them to rush the results. In that case, it should only take about a week, depending on how busy the lab is.”
“We’ll rush them. I don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary.”
“Of course. Once we get the results and know exactly what we’re up against, we’ll talk strategy. At this point, it’s all conjecture. But no matter the outcome, we’re going to fight this.”
Briefly closing my eyes, I exhale. The weight that had been crushing me all morning seems to have lightened dramatically. I’m not out of the woods, but no matter what, I’m grateful to have someone promising to do everything to help me.
“Thank you, Alice.”
“Of course.”
After we say our goodbyes and Alice promises to be in touch very soon with her opposition motion, Brooklyn and I leave the office. As we walk along the sidewalk, I drape my arm around her shoulders, surprised when she doesn’t shrug me off. I take that as a good sign and lean down, softly kissing her temple.
“Thank you, Brooklyn.”
We stop walking and she peers into my eyes. Her expression is unreadable, so I brace myself for her rejection. Then a soft smile lights up her face. “Thank you, Drew.”
I don’t ask why she’s thanking me. It doesn’t matter. After everything, I feel like she’s slowly coming back to me, just like she always does. This time, I have no intention of letting her go.
Chapter Four
Brooklyn
“Where are we going?” Drew asks as I order him back into my car after stopping by Kelly’s, the aroma of the comfort food of our younger years surrounding us. “Aren’t we going to sit on the beach and eat like we used to?”
I shrug, turning the key in the ignition. “I thought about it, but I figured I’d combine our two favorite pastimes into one. Grab Kelly’s and sit on the roof of the café while we eat it.” I lower my voice. “Like we used to with your dad. Figured you could use a little familiarity today.”
“Don’t you need to get back to work? You’ve already wasted so much of your time taking me to see Alice, then to get the DNA swab. I don’t want to take up the rest of your day.”
“There’s no such thing as wasted time when it comes to you.” I keep my eyes glued to the road as I steer toward downtown. The truth is, I have no desire to leave Drew’s side. Not right now. Not after this. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate if I went back to work. All I’d be thinking about is...” I trail off. A tightness in my throat prevents me from continuing.
When I saw him standing in the doorway to my office this morning, I assumed he was there to confront me about the bomb I dropped on him this past Sunday. Never would I have imagined it was to ask for my help so he could maintain custody of his girls. In an instant, nothing else mattered. All my other concerns and fears became insignificant and inconsequential. I wonder if it’s the universe’s way of leading me down the road I should have taken...toward Drew instead of away from him.
“What a vile bitch Carla is?” he finishes with a slight laugh, one that still makes my heart skip a beat.
A tiny part of me wishes I no longer reacted this way to his endearing voice, husky laugh, woodsy scent, but the truth remains, I do react this way. I always have. He’s the only person who’s made me feel things I didn’t think were real, that I thought only existed in books or movies. This man has brought me to the highest of highs and lowest of lows, but at least it was something. And isn’t something better than nothing? Do I really want to sacrifice that passion for security?
I shift my eyes to his, staring into dark pools of admiration and respect. It’s so deep and poignant, it sends a shiver through me. Goosebumps pimple my skin, his gaze saying more than Wes ever has with words. Isn’t that what I’ve always wanted? To physically feel someone’s love, instead of just taking their word for it? If it weren’t for our disjointed history, the decision would be easy. I thought Drew’s inability to ever notice me was the nail in the coffin of our future. Now I’m not so sure.
“No,” I say, concentrating on the road once m
ore. “I need to be here for you.” I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. I’m worried my words may give him too much hope. Then again, maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe hope is exactly what he needs right now. “Just like I know you’d be here for me if I were going through something similar.”
“You know I would, Brooklyn, despite what my past behavior may lead you to believe.” He reaches for my hand and I willingly remove it from the wheel. The instant his fingers wrap around mine, a shiver rolls down my spine. It’s subtle, but there’s no denying how my body reacts to him. It’s just as strong as it was when we were teenagers.
I keep my hand joined with his as I drive into downtown, a blush blooming on my cheeks whenever he steals a glimpse at me. I like to believe I don’t pull away so he’ll feel the comfort he needs, but that’s not entirely true. Ever since I first linked hands with him earlier today, I’ve craved the warmth of his skin on mine, regardless of how innocent the touch is. As much as reason tells me to keep my distance, my heart seems to be the one calling the shots today.
“And we’re all going through this,” he adds after a long silence.
“But they’re your girls.”
“You helped raise them, too. You changed diapers, gave them bottles, sang them to sleep, dealt with meltdowns, wiped their tears. They’re your kids, too, Auntie Brook.”
I inhale a shaky breath when he calls me that. How much longer will I hear sweet, innocent Charlotte say those two words? I’ve tried to remain positive all morning for Drew’s sake, but my hope of this being smoke and mirrors is nonexistent. I remember the woman Carla was during their marriage. Drew may have been happy to ignore it, since he’d landed a trophy wife, but I saw it. We all did. There’s a strong likelihood Charlotte, and possibly even Alyssa, isn’t Drew’s.
“You’ve always been a permanent fixture in their lives. They don’t remember a time you weren’t there to play with them, or sneak them a chocolate chip muffin, or read them a story before bed. This affects all of us.” He pauses. Our gazes look briefly before I refocus on the road. “How are you doing?”
I pinch my lips into a tight line, fighting against the emotions that have been coursing through me since I read the pleading earlier. I’ve done everything to remain strong and levelheaded for Drew’s sake. Those girls are his weakness...and his strength, just like Drew’s always been my weakness and my strength.
“I’m trying not to think about it too much, but it’s hard.” Tears form in the corners of my eyes and I blink them away. “Since the moment you walked into my office—”
“I’m not sure walk is the right word for what I did,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“No.” I smile, playfully rolling my eyes. “That’s certainly true. You pretty much barged right in. But as I read those papers, all I could think was what if she wins? Did I waste the little time I could have spent with Charlotte by keeping my distance from you over the past month? Am I really that selfish?”
“Don’t say that. You’re the most selfless person I know. You’ve made a career out of putting others’ needs before yours. There’s no way of knowing exactly what’s going to happen, but you’ll always be part of Charlotte’s life. We all will be. I don’t care if I’m forced to mortgage my damn house to pay for the legal fees. I’ll do it just to fight for her. At least she’ll know I did everything I could to keep her mine.”
“You’re a good man, Drew.” I pause, then add, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” he replies. “More than you know.”
I float my eyes to his, holding his gaze. The tone of his voice makes it apparent he’s no longer talking about his current predicament but the past we share. For the first time since he learned the truth about that night, a part of me believes he truly does regret how things transpired between us. Shouldn’t that count for something?
We sit in comfortable silence the remainder of our short drive to the North End. Once we reach the café, I pull my car behind the building. Our grease-laden bags in hand, Drew jumps out and rushes toward the driver’s side to help me out. We walk toward the rickety fire escape, about to climb up the scaffolding, when he stops, his eyes zeroing in on my heels.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay in those?”
I shrug. “They’re not optimal, but I’ll be fine.”
“Says the girl who threw a fit when I tried to get you into a pair of skates several weeks ago. Yet you’re happy to climb a fire escape in a pair of fuck-me heels?”
I inhale a sharp breath, my face heating and insides tingling. His fervent voice saying those words brings back memories of that one night together, the things he whispered as his hands roamed all over my body. My mouth waters at the thought of experiencing that again.
“I mean...” He averts his gaze.
Emboldened, I step toward him, ensuring my shoes are in his line of sight. I have to admit, they are hot. As much as I loathed the dress my future mother-in-law chose for me to wear at my bridal shower this past weekend, the beige Christian Louboutin pumps were a rather pleasant surprise, and a very nice addition to my shoe collection.
“You think these are fuck-me shoes?” I ask in a sultry voice.
This isn’t fair to either one of us, but we need something to take our minds off our problems. For a few minutes, I want to pretend I’m not engaged to another man. I want to pretend Drew may not lose his daughters. I want to pretend he did show up at my house the morning he left for college and this is part of the happily ever after I’ve fantasized about for so long.
When he returns his eyes to mine, they’re dark, full of need. It sets those butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. He licks his lips, bringing his body within a whisper of mine. “Will you be upset if I say no?”
“I should be.” I bite my lower lip, my core clenching. My skin flushes, my fingers aching to reach out, grab the back of his neck, and force his lips to mine.
“But you’re not.”
“I...” I trail off, struggling to form the words I should say. I’m so tired of lying, of pretending just to protect my heart.
“You?” He arches a brow, inching even closer but still ensuring our bodies don’t touch, remaining just out of reach.
“I think...” I peer into his mesmerizing eyes, torn. How would I feel if Wes were in my position? If he still harbored feelings for an ex and was currently a breath away from kissing her? It doesn’t matter that I may not love him. I still care about him. I can’t hurt him like that.
Snapping out of my fantasy world, I step back, the connection breaking. “I think we should go eat before our food gets cold.”
Drew’s shoulders fall as he briefly closes his eyes. “Of course.” Doing his best to pretend my rejection doesn’t hurt, he starts up the steps. I kick off my heels, carrying them as I follow him up. He glances back every few seconds, making sure I don’t slip, just as he did whenever we came up here during our younger days. When he crests the ledge, he hoists himself over, placing the bags of food on the ground before turning around to help me.
Once I have my footing, I pause to take stock of the roof. We used to come up here practically every day during our childhood. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been transported back to our formative years. Stealing a glance toward the far end, I spy the remnants of the hockey net Drew’s father set up so he could practice. It’s the hockey net where I shot my first goal, thanks to Drew’s insistence.
Being here with him reminds me how strong our bond is, how much we’ve been through and survived. Yes, we’ve had our fair share of difficult moments, some instances when I thought my entire world was falling apart because of him. But we’ve had some amazing memories, too. Shouldn’t those outshine the darkness? Shouldn’t those be the moments my mind focuses on instead of all the times I felt marginalized, forgotten, tossed aside?
A hand lands on my lower back and I shift my eyes to Drew’s. He gestures toward a picnic table, and I allow him to lead me to it. We sit down to feast on
lobster rolls, whole belly clams, and Kelly’s famous roast beef. Neither one of us says a word as we listen to the buzz of the city below us, the aroma of tomatoes and garlic wafting up from all the restaurants lining the street.
When I can no longer eat another bite, I push my plate away, noticing Drew didn’t eat as much as he usually would. I watch his profile out of the corner of my eyes. He’s reflective, pensive, his brows creased as he stares into the distance. I wonder what’s going through his mind, if he’s wracking his brain for any piece of evidence Alice can use in his upcoming battle with Carla.
It takes no time for him to realize I’m staring and he meets my gaze, his lips curving up in the corners. He looks different than he did when I first saw him this morning. Yes, he has an uphill battle on his hands, but at least I was able to give him a little peace of mind that we’ll do everything to fight this. I return his smile as a breeze blows my dark hair in front of my face, but I make no move to try to smooth it back. I simply revel in the solitude and serenity being up here with Drew brings me, pretending things between us never changed.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask when his eyes never shift from mine.
He smirks. “Care to up that to a quarter? Those legal fees won’t pay for themselves.”
I cringe. “Sorry. I can talk to Alice, see if she can work something out.”
He reaches across the table, clutching my hand. “Don’t worry. I can afford it.” He pauses for a beat, then withdraws, the lack of contact leaving me longing for more. He assesses me for a moment, then leans forward, placing his arms on the table and folding his hands. “Actually, I was just thinking of the night Carla asked for a divorce.”
“Oh.” I shift nervously on the wooden bench.
“The first time,” he adds, although it’s unnecessary. The timbre of his voice makes it apparent which time he’s referring to.
“I’m not sure now’s the right time to discuss this.” I jump up, collecting our trash, avoiding his eyes as I busy myself. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You were better off not knowing.”
