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.
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.”
He looked straight at Alexa. “Ms. Jagger, I hold you largely accountable for the mess we have here today. If you had one inkling of a doubt that your husband might not be the boy’s father, you had a duty to get to the truth when that blessed child was born.”
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.”