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‘Your lawyer?’
‘Leslie.’
His renewed stoicism breaks. ‘Goddamnit.’ Another breath. ‘All right let’s table that—’ he points to the contract ‘—for a second.’ He takes a step forward, carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal.
I have to admit, I feel like one.
‘The state knows we aren’t married.’ He holds up a hand, hurrying to add, ‘But the good news is I found Kayla.’
My hold on the documents loosens. ‘You did?’
Thomas nods. ‘Yes.’
‘Is she okay?’ I remember what the report said about her boyfriend having once been arrested for drugs. ‘Does she need help?’
‘She’s fine.’ He pauses, as if gauging my reaction. ‘I had her sign over guardianship of Mary to you.’
I blink three times before what he said registers, anger burning hotter than the pain from my reopened childhood wounds. ‘You don’t get to decide that.’
‘Alice—’
‘Honestly, who do you think you are?’ The rage hits hard and fast. ‘You hire a private investigator to dig into our lives, and then, when you find Kayla, you don’t tell me? You just tell her to give up her daughter?’ My voice rises with each question.
‘Alice…’ He pauses, as if waiting to see if I’m going to talk over him again. ‘This is a good thing.’ He points to the papers in my hand. ‘You read about her ex-boyfriend, her inability to hold a job.’
I curse as a tear falls. ‘You think just because you have some facts about someone’s past that you know everything there is to know about them?’
He sighs. As if I’m putting him out. ‘Alice, Kayla signed the guardianship papers like that.’ He snaps his fingers.
I flinch.
‘She doesn’t deserve Mary.’ He runs another hand through his hair, the usually combed, standard business cut in disarray. ‘And since the state has realized we’re not married, it’s best if you sign the guardianship papers now.’
‘I'm not going to sign away Mary’s mother because you think it’s more convenient.’
‘Fine.’ He snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘If you won’t see reason about Kayla then we’ll just make your legal address my address. That way in case the social workers raise a fuss about not finding our marriage license, at least your registered address will meet fostering standards.’
His presumption exhausts me.
I never wanted anything from him. But if what he said about the state knowing is true, then Mary’s at risk again.
Flipping to the second page of the contract I read, ‘The first party, as compensation for any emotional and/or financial distress of the second party, will purchase and bestow upon the second party a place of residence which meets all New York State fostering requirements. This place of residence will also reside in a top five rated New York City school zone.’
I’m trembling. As if I’m about to burst from all the emotion warring inside me. For being disappointed in myself for not searching for a place to live from the start. For being gullible enough to believe Kayla would come back. For wanting what was happening between Thomas and I to mean something.
My fingertips curl, creasing the stack of papers.
I hadn’t realized just how much I wanted to believe until now.
Reining all of that in, I stare at an anomaly – Thomas Moore’s stricken face. ‘The second party would like her residence.’
‘But I’m telling you, you don’t have to. You and Mary can stay with me.’
‘Why would I do that?’ I hate myself for asking this question.
His eyes cut from mine. ‘Moving would be too disruptive for Mary. It’ll be better she stays until—’
‘Until what? You get bored? You decide you want your house back? You want to start your own family?’ I laugh unkindly. ‘I’ve been through all of that before. Many times. It’s best Mary leaves now before she gets too attached.’ Like I did.
