by Vi Keeland
For the first time, I felt a sudden pang of hope. Walliford had never shown his hand, and I’d assumed he’d fallen for the southern charm Alexa had been laying on thick since day one. What came out of his mouth next shocked the shit out of me even more.
“Mr. Jagger, I’d like to commend you on your devotion to young Beckett. It’s clear that you love and care for the child no differently than if things had turned out differently with the results of the paternity test some years ago.”
Inwardly, I jumped into the air and fist pumped, but somehow I managed to feign humility.
“Thank you, your honor. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Right. Well, that being said, let’s get to the business at hand today. On Ms. Jagger’s petition for a change in custody, I find no circumstances that warrant a modification. The order setting the visitation of Andrew M. Jagger is hereby affirmed without change.”
He looked at Alexa. “Ms. Jagger, the fact that your petition to increase custody was in order to allow Mr. Bodine to start to have visitation with your son is a step in the right direction. However, it has not gone unnoticed that Mr. Bodine has not once made an appearance during these proceedings. To be quite frank, his lack of interest and participation makes me question his priorities and interest in his son’s life. Regardless, he is the boy’s father, and I’m going to grant Mr. Bodine some visitation. However, this time will come out of your time with your son, not Mr. Jagger’s time. This court hereby grants Levi Bodine’s petition for custody in the amount of eight hours per week. After a relationship is established, and Mr. Bodine has proven to this court his desire to be involved in his son’s life, I’ll consider additional visitation. However, this likely will also come from your time, Ms. Jagger.”
I stood before the court utterly dumbfounded. Mentally, I was busting through the yellow tape at the finish line with my hands held high as I finished the almost-four-week-long marathon I’d been running. I just couldn’t believe I’d won.
Behind me, Roman let out a triumphant yes, and I stood there stunned, feeling like it was a dream and any second I was going to wake up to have the nightmare of reality hit me.
Then Judge Walliford finished. “Lastly, on Mr. Jagger’s cross motion to compel Alexa and Beckett Jagger’s relocation to their home in New York City, that motion is denied.”
Wait. What? “Your honor, if I am retaining my visitation, how can you deny my motion for my son’s return home?”
“Isn’t that obvious, Mr. Jagger? Your son is going to be here in the great state of Georgia. You might want to think about relocating.” He banged his gavel and stood to leave the courtroom.
“This is bullshit! I have a practice in New York. Alexa doesn’t even have a job here.”
Walliford froze mid-step. “That’ll be one thousand dollars for using that language and tone in my courtroom. You don’t like my decision, take it up with the court of appeals.”
I held the bathroom wall to keep myself upright long enough to take a piss, then stumbled from the bathroom back to my barstool. Tie and jacket God knows where, zipper still open, shirt half tucked in and half hanging out—I looked as trashed as I felt.
“I’ll have another on the rocks.” I slid my highball glass toward the bartender. He looked at Roman, then at me. “You gotta ask my father’s permission or something? Just give me the damn drink.”
Did I mention I’m an even bigger dick than usual when I’m drunk?
My cell phone jumped around on top of the bar. Emerie. It was the third time she’d called. Also the third time I didn’t answer.
“Not gonna answer that again?” Roman asked.
I slurred, “Whassssthepoint?”
“How about to let the lady have a good night’s sleep tonight? God knows you’re gonna have one when you pass out by five p.m, you selfish prick.” Roman drew on his beer and set it down on the bar. “She loves you. You’ll work it out.”
“Work what out? It’s over.”
“What are you talking about? Don’t be an asshole. It’s the first woman I’ve ever really seen you fall for. How long we been friends?”
“Too long apparently, if you’re going to start lecturing me.”
“What did I tell you in the back of the church right before you married Alexa?”
In the condition I was in, most of my life was blurry, but that morning was always crystal clear. I’d thought about Roman offering me his keys to split on more than one occasion since. “Car is in the back if you want to bail,” he’d said. When I’d reminded him Alexa was carrying my baby, and I was doing the right thing, he’d said, “Fuck the right thing.”
The bartender brought my drink, and since I was still able to remember a portion of my life I had no desire to recollect, I promptly sucked back half the glass.
Then I turned to look at Roman—well, two Romans. “You never did say I told you so.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Won’t say it if you don’t take my advice and figure shit out with Emerie either. Not much on rubbing bad choices in people’s faces.”
“Sometimes the choice is made for you by circumstance.”
Roman chuckled. “That’s crap, and you know it.” He paused. “Remember Nancy Irvine?”
It took me a minute to reach back into the depths of my alcohol-marinated brain. “Chicken pox girl?”
He tilted his beer in my direction. “That’s the one.”
“What about her?”
“Remember the pact we made never to go for the same girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, after you move to Atlanta and leave Emerie heartbroken because you’re too stupid to try to figure out how to make it work, I’ll be there to comfort her—among other things. Payback’s a bitch.”
“Fuck you.”
“What do you care? She’s just pussy to keep you busy. Not worth your trouble.”
As if on cue, my phone lit up with Emerie’s name, indicating a text had arrived. I grabbed it and my drink from the bar and stood.
Wobbling on my feet, I leaned in to my friend. “Fuck you.”
Then I stormed off to find the hotel elevator.
Drew
If I could have just cracked open my skull and let a few of the little trapped drummers out, I might have had a chance of getting up off my couch.
It was a fucking miracle I’d gotten onto the plane at all. Would never have happened had it not been for Roman, who dragged my hung-over ass from that hotel room this morning at six a.m.
Now it was noon. I’d been home for more than an hour, and I finally grew a set of balls and responded to Emerie.
I texted back.
Yeah. Balls. Sure.
And I lied.
It wasn’t the first time. Certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Drew: Sorry about last night. Was sick as a dog. Food poisoning. Bad sushi, I think.
The little dots started jumping around immediately.
Emerie: Just glad you’re okay. I was worried. What happened in court?
Admitting the truth would mean dealing with it, and I wasn’t ready yet.
Drew: Judge adjourned handing down his decision until next week.
Emerie: Sigh. Okay. Well, maybe that’s good. He’s really giving it attention.
I couldn’t be a dick when she was trying so hard to remain positive.
Drew: Maybe.
Emerie: When are you coming back?
That was when I started to feel like a real shithead. It was one thing to hold off telling her about the decision. In my head I could justify that as avoiding hurting her, but sitting upstairs lying to her when she was probably downstairs answering my phone…that was just being a coward.
That realization didn’t make me any less of an asshole though.
Drew: Probably get the last flight out tonight. It’ll be late by the time I’m back.
Emerie: Can’t wait to see you.
I finally said something that wasn’t a lie.
Drew: Yeah. Me
too.
There was a mirror in the lobby that reflected the hallway leading back to the private offices. I halted when I caught sight of Emerie—so fucking beautiful. So sweet and honest and everything good. My palms began to sweat as I stood there watching her. Her door was closed, and she was writing something on the whiteboard, probably something positive about making things work that would make me feel like an even bigger scumbag when I read it.
I’d spent the last twenty-four hours thinking of how it should go down, what would hurt her the least. There was no reason to tell her what had happened in court. She believed relationships could endure anything if two people worked at it. There was no doubt in my mind she’d want to try staying together while we’d be separated by almost nine hundred miles. At first, it might even seem to work. But eventually shit would start to fall apart. It always does. We probably wouldn’t even realize how bad things had gotten until it blew up in our faces. Emerie had just settled into her life in New York, letting her live it was the right thing to do.
So all I could seem to come up with was getting it over with quickly. Don’t drag this shit out and try to do the long-distance thing—because that will just waste more of her time. She wasted three years of her life hanging on to that asshole Baldwin; I wasn’t about to lead her on like that. Fast and complete detachment—like ripping off a Band-Aid. The sting hurts like a motherfucker, but then when you let the fresh air in, you go from covering up a wound to healing.
She capped the marker and took a step back, reading whatever she’d just written. A slow smile spread across her face, and the headache I’d finally just gotten rid of rushed back with a vengeance.
I took a deep breath and headed to my office.
Emerie stepped out of hers just as I was about to pass.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Too bad you didn’t take a little longer. I was about to go upstairs to wake you.” She kissed me on the lips and added, “Naked.”
“Emerie…” I cleared my throat because my voice was pathetically cracking. “We need to—” I never got to finish my sentence, because before I could even add the word talk, both our phones started ringing, and the UPS guy yelled from the lobby. Instead of ignoring it, I jumped at the reprieve like the no-balls jerk I was.
Then, after the UPS guy left, the building super came to talk to me about some work they were going to do where they’d need to cut the water for about two hours tomorrow. By the time I’d extricated myself from that conversation, my client had showed up twenty minutes early for his appointment. I couldn’t very well make him wait in the lobby while I dumped my girlfriend, so my conversation with Emerie was going to be delayed for at least an hour.
But one appointment ran into the next, and one hour ran into two, and suddenly it was almost seven o’clock at night. Emerie had done nothing but smile and look happy to have me back all day. She’d even ordered me lunch and sat in the lobby bullshitting with one of my clients for ten minutes so I could gobble down the food. Now all of my excuses were gone, and the office was quiet.
I stared out my window, drinking the coffee that had magically appeared on my desk a half-hour ago, when Emerie came into my office. I knew this because of the click-clack of her heels, not because I turned around.
She came up behind me and wrapped her hands around my waist. “Crazy day.”
“Yeah. Thanks for everything. For lunch, coffee, answering the phones and door all day. Everything.”
She leaned her head against my back. “Of course. We’re a good team. Don’t you think?”
I closed my eyes. Damn. Just rip the Band-Aid off, Drew, you pussy. Rip it the fuck off. I swallowed and turned around to face her.
“Emerie…I’m not cut out to be on a team.”
She laughed, probably not yet fully understanding what I was saying. Then she looked up and saw my somber face. Her smile wilted.
“What are you talking about? You’re a great team player. I pick up where you need me to, and you do the same for me.”
Rip the fucking Band-Aid off. Fast.
“No, Emerie. That’s what an employee does for their employer. We’re not a team.”
She looked like she’d been hit with a physical blow. Her plump bottom lip quivered for a half a second, and then she regrouped—her entire demeanor changing. Arms that had been casually at her side folded into a protective stance over her chest, and she straightened her spine. The fucked-up thing was, for a brief second, I got turned on watching her jump into fight mode. After all, arguing was how we’d started this mess to begin with. But it was definitely not the time or place to think with my dick.
“Every relationship goes through periods where one person needs to lean on the other more. There will come a day when I’ll need to lean on you.”
The relationship counselor in her kicked in, and I realized I needed to be blunt. So rather than ripping off the Band-Aid, I sliced open a new wound.
“I don’t want you to lean on me, Emerie. I need to end things between us.”
She took a step back, so I stepped up to the plate again and slammed home. “My son is my priority, and there isn’t room for anything else in my life.”
Emerie’s voice was a whisper. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry.” Force of habit, I reached out to touch her shoulder, give her comfort, but she backed away like my hand was fire.
Looking down, she said, “I left your messages on the desk, and your first appointment was moved up to seven-thirty.”
There was so much I should have said, but all I did was nod. Which she didn’t even see.
Emerie walked to the door of my office, and all I wanted to do was take back the last five minutes—rewind time and tell her I didn’t just want to be her teammate, I wanted to be her whole fucking team. But instead I stood there and watched her walk away. Because it would only be harder a month from now or a year from now—long-distance relationships don’t fucking work. One of us would be a hell of a lot worse off when time passed and someone cheated.
Emerie disappeared into her office and came back out a moment later wearing her coat with her laptop and purse slung over her shoulder. She gently pulled her office door closed—so gently, I almost didn’t even hear her leaving. Maybe that was the point. But I did, and when I looked up to catch one last glimpse of her, I saw that she was crying. I had to grip the chair in front of me in order to keep myself from going after her.
Then she was gone.
And as I stood in place for the next hour with shit whirling through my mind, all I could think was—who was I trying to protect here?
Her…or me.
Drew
I didn’t think it was possible to get any more miserable than I’d been the last week. Alexa and I had fought for an hour when I picked up Beck, and then she started in right where she’d left off when I brought him back two days later. My son hadn’t felt well all weekend and wanted to know why we couldn’t go home to my place anymore. I didn’t know what to tell him, and the longer I left shit in limbo, the harder it was getting.
To make matters worse, my flight back to New York was delayed for six hours, and the last decent night’s sleep I’d had was the night before the judge handed down his decision. Even the flight attendant asked me if I was feeling okay. The truth of the matter was, I wasn’t feeling okay—I was fucking miserable trying to figure out my move to Atlanta. Although that wasn’t the real reason for my recent hatred of life.
By the time my flight landed at JFK, it was midnight. I was so exhausted from lack of sleep, I thought I might actually pass out tonight, finally get some desperately needed shut-eye. But then I made the mistake of stopping in the office, just to look around.
It was quiet. I didn’t expect Emerie to be here this late. She’d avoided me at all costs before I left for Atlanta anyway—coming to the office only to meet her in-person appointments and leaving immediately after. I presumed she was doing the rest of her working from home. Plus, having ac
cess to my schedule, she’d have known I was due back earlier in the evening, so I was certain she’d be staying away.
I dropped my bags at the reception desk and walked through the eerily silent office. Emerie’s door was closed, and I tried my hardest to pass it by, but I just couldn’t do it. Even though I was relatively certain no one was in there, I knocked first, then slowly creaked the door open. It was dark, but the hall light illuminated enough for me to see inside. Although I was sure the darkness had me imagining things. So I flipped the light on. My heart leaped into my throat as I froze and stared.
Empty.
The office was fucking empty.
I blinked a few times, hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me, but nope—she was gone. For good this time.
“I need you to tail someone for me.”
“Good fucking morning to you, too, sunshine.” Roman plopped down into the guest chair on the other side of my desk.
When I’d texted him at six this morning, he was already on his way to my place. Since I hadn’t slept all night and decided to make productive use of my insomnia, I told him to meet me in the office.
“There’s nothing good about it.” I tossed the file in my hand on the desk and rubbed my eyes.
“You look like shit, man.” Roman leaned back in his chair and lifted his boot-covered feet onto my desk, crossing them at the ankles. Normally, I’d knock them off, but I didn’t care enough this morning.
“All the traveling has caught up to me.”
“Yeah, that’s the reason.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. What do you need?”
“I want you to tail Emerie for me.”
“What the fuck for? Isn’t she across the hall from you half the day?”
“She moved out.”
“When did that happen?”
“Sometime over the last few days, I assume. Got back at midnight, and her office was cleared out.”
