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“Because I’ve done too many wrong things, made too many bad choices, and no number of right ones can change that.”

“I don’t believe that—no one believes that. You’ve put Paisley first in every possible way. There’s no chance the judge won’t see everything you’ve done for her.”

“Megan believed that. It’s why she never told me about Paisley.”

“No, Blaze. Look, I didn’t know her, but I can imagine she was young and afraid. And what do people do when they’re afraid? They hide. They expect the worst. Just because she never gave you the chance to be your best, doesn’t mean you weren’t capable of it.”

He stared blankly ahead, afraid to believe me now. And how could I blame him? He’d been holding all of this inside for months, bearing it all on his shoulders, alone. Well, not alone. But only with Wade at his side.

“How do I tell her…how do I tell Paisley if I lose custody? How do I—” he broke off, too choked up to continue.

“Blaze, listen to me,” I insisted, releasing his hand so I could cup his face and force him to look at me. “You’re not going to lose her.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I do. I do know that,” I said with unrealistic amounts of confidence.

He appeared almost comically stupefied before dismay washed over his features.

“All these years, no matter what anyone has ever said or written about you, you’ve never let it stop you from going after your dream. Do you remember—” I stopped short, catching myself because what I was about to say was not only embarrassing but it…it dragged me back across that line where it was obvious how obsessed with him I used to be.

“Remember what?”

My throat felt like it closed up, caging my racing heart in my chest. My gaze dropped for a split-second and then when I looked back up at him,

“Do you remember the interview you did on Disney after The Blaze Files ended?”

His brows shot up and he stared at me for a very painfully long second. “I don’t…I mean vaguely.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “Like factually, I remember it happened, but that’s about it. Why? What does an interview I did at fifteen have to do with losing custody of my daughter?”

I ignored his abrasive tone.

“In the interview, they asked you if you felt ready to transition from child acting into adult roles. Of course, you said yes like it was obvious, but then the interviewer asked if you were sure after what happened to your former co-star…”

“Jack Parr,” Blaze murmured, seeming to remember a little of what I was talking about. “He’d just overdosed and passed away a few weeks before. He was only seventeen.”

A child actor who’d been dropped in the deep end of Hollywood without a life raft in sight and just sank right before everyone’s eyes.

“They asked how you were handling his death since you’d been so close, and you answered, very smugly I remembered, because you could tell the guy was trying to hurt you with the question, you said, ‘You know, Dave, I’m not doing well to be honest. He was like a brother to me. We talked every day and now he’s gone, and every day, every time I reach for my phone to reach out to him, it’s like I’ve got no legs to stand on.’ I’ll never forget the look on his face, like no one had ever been honest with him before,” I said, one corner of my mouth lifting just a little before I continued, “And then you told him that your family had your back. That they would always hold you up even if you had no legs to stand on.”

A slow breath pushed through his lips, and with a small shake of his head, he muttered, “Well, I certainly gave them a workout, didn’t I? Shit…” he groaned and tipped his head back. “How do you remember…”

I drew a trembling breath. “My mom had died a few days before. That interview was playing on the TV for me to watch at the funeral home while her viewing was happening in the next room. I remember listening to you, knowing I felt like I had no legs to stand on, and believing you when you said to lean on the people around me.”

“Harper…”

“Regardless of what happens tomorrow, you’re not alone fighting this battle, Blaze. We—all of us, Paisley, me, Wade, Lou, Frankie, Chandler, the rest of my family, we’re all fighting with you. For you. We’re your hive, Blaze, and we’re not going to let them take Paisley away.”

As soon as I finished, I bit down on my lip to stop it from trembling—to stop the tears that wanted to fall.

His stare bored into mine for a long second, and I swore I saw his eyes glisten before he let his head fall back against the side of my bed with a groan.

“Shit, Harper.”

“I’m—”

“No,” he cut me off. “I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his fingers over his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. God, I was such an asshole to you, and here…”

“It’s okay, Blaze,” I told him, taking his wrist in my hands and pulling his hand from his face. “It’s in the past.”