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Neither of us had mentioned Evie’s mother since I asked about her the day I signed our contract. I was starting to think she was some mythical figure that existed more in theory than reality, but that obviously wasn’t the case. If her parents were in London, she could be in London too.

I hoped Evie’s mother was more pleasant than they were though. They seemed like real pieces of work.

“Did you know they were in town?” Noah’s reaction suggested their visit had been an unwelcome surprise.

“No. I met them tonight.”

I had to stop my jaw from hitting the floor. This was getting more surreal by the minute. “What did they want?”

“They want shared custody of Evie.”

Noah dropped the bombshell without so much as a flicker of emotion. His face could’ve been carved out of stone, and he responded in clipped, robotic sentences, like he was operating on autopilot to keep himself from crashing. But his shoulders had crept toward his ears, and his hands were curled into fists at his sides. He was basically a ticking time bomb.

Shared custody of Evie. If the Andersons got what they wanted, Noah would lose half his time with her.

My stomach plummeted. I stared at Noah for a moment, at a loss for words. Suddenly, the drama over our kiss didn’t matter at all. All that mattered was him, and Evie, and figuring out how to get through this. The thought of them hurting and losing each other, even for a little bit, felt like a knife to the chest.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” I finally said. “This calls for some tea.”

CHAPTER 20

NOAH

Carina made two mugs of chamomile tea and forced me to drink one of them.

“It’s good for relaxation,” she said when I protested. “Now start from the beginning and tell me exactly what happened.”

We were seated at the kitchen table. She wrapped both hands around her mug, her eyes steady and patient as she waited for me to respond.

My pulse drummed in my ears. My shock from the Andersons’ request was slowly wearing off, leaving me numb and exhausted.

I shouldn’t be here, taking comfort from Carina, given our kiss earlier that night. I’d agonized endlessly over what to do and say the next time I saw her during my walk home, but the Andersons changed everything. Nothing else mattered at the moment except figuring out what the hell I should do next.

I hadn’t given them an answer about shared custody yet. I suspected they were telling me rather than asking me, but after Elizabeth’s bombshell, we’d had a long conversation about what a potential relationship between them and Evie would look like. We’d agreed to set up an introductory meeting first, then go from there.

It was a hell of a lot to process after losing a match and kissing Carina. I felt like I’d lived a thousand lives in one day, and while part of me wanted to sleep, another part wanted someone to talk to.

Someone who was compassionate, thoughtful, and non-judgmental.

Someone who could slip past the walls I’d erected and make the unbearable a little more bearable.

Someone like Carina.

Despite the rocky uncertainty of our personal relationship, she was the only person I wanted sitting across from me right now, and after a beat of hesitation, I summarized my conversation with the Andersons.

She listened quietly, but her face cycled through a dozen emotions during my monologue. Shock, curiosity, concern, indignation, and a dash of righteous anger—she was a mirror of everything I’d felt myself over the past two hours.

“I can’t believe they waltzed in here after eleven years and asked for shared custody,” she said. “That’s wild. And unbelievably entitled.”

“They are her grandparents.”

“Technically, but they’ve never met her.” Carina’s forehead creased. “Are you sure they’re who they say they are? What if they’re really good scammers who targeted you because you’re rich and famous?”

“They showed me their IDs and family pictures with Sarah when she was young. I’ll hire someone to do a thorough background check tomorrow, but odds are, they’re telling the truth.”

She released a slow breath. “I’m guessing Sarah is Evie’s mom?” she said softly.

I gave a short nod. I could’ve left it at that, but something compelled me to keep talking. I’d kept my feelings bottled up for a decade, and it’d reached a breaking point. If I didn’t release some of the pressure, I’d explode.