To Have It All(9)

Voluntary Termination of Parental Rights


My heart froze in my chest when I read it. She wanted Max to sign over rights to his daughter? Was she serious? What kind of dickless asshole would just give up his kid?

“Shall I bring menus?” The waiter asked.

“We won’t be eating,” Waverly informed him. “In fact, go ahead and settle the check please.” When I glanced up, she was handing him her credit card. Man, this woman didn’t waste any time. This was a full-on assault; a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Max, wherever the bastard was, didn’t stand a chance and I sure as hell didn’t either. From the moment she walked in, I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I’d immediately recognized her as soon as I saw her. She was the woman from the picture I found in the junk drawer at Max’s apartment; the one where she was smiling at him while he was smiling at the camera. Looks wise, she was a beautiful woman; curvy and petite. Her hair was dirty blonde, tied up in a ponytail, and although she was dressed in sleek business looking attire, her makeup had said something different. Her makeup wasn’t heavy or bad, it just gave her a pin-up girl look, which was hot as hell. Let me just say, it’s not easy finding a woman attractive while in another man’s body; the effect felt similar to what I would’ve experienced in my body, but unnatural because I was in Max’s. I momentarily wondered if my attraction to her was solely my own or if maybe some of it was Max; maybe somehow because I was in his body I was drawn to her more because he was. At least, he had been at some point.

“I can pay,” I blurted, fumbling for the cash I took from Max’s nightstand in my pocket, but stopped. I didn’t want to pay yet. For starters, I needed to buy myself some more time to figure this out. More so, though, I was going to need a hell of a lot more whiskey. “Hold off on the check,” I informed the waiter, yanking her card from his hand and sliding it back to her. “We have a lot to discuss.”

He drifted away as Waverly glared at me. Judging by how quickly her brown eyes turned murderous, I could tell she didn’t like my stalling, but I needed time. Maybe Max wouldn’t want this, right? What if I signed this and he lost all chances of seeing his kid, and it was all my fault? While I was busy contemplating the enormous decision before me, I didn’t realize just how angry Waverly was.

“You lying sack of shit,” she gritted. Whoa. She had a wicked little mouth on her. My mouth dropped open with her words. My reaction didn’t faze her because she continued. “You said you’d sign them. These papers are what you wanted.”

My stomach dropped.

Max had told her he’d sign them?

Shit.

I was fucking this up.

Or rather, Max had fucked it up, and I was left to deal with the consequences.

He was going to give up his kid? How . . . just how could a real man do that? Maybe Max really was a total loss. Maybe he really was a dickless asshole. I mean, he left me for dead after I saved his life. That pretty much screams dickless asshole. After seeing that with my own eyes, was it really that far of a stretch to think he’d sign over rights to his daughter?

“I just . . .” What the fuck could I say? Maybe Max would have signed them. And a large part of me felt like I should do my best to abide by his wishes as this was his body and all, but the other part of me . . . the part that knew even though I was in Max’s body, I was still me. And that part of me wasn’t sure I could fulfill Max’s wishes. I couldn’t be the man to give up rights to a child; a man who’d let a little girl go through life wondering why her father didn’t want her; wondering why her father gave her up. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine. I wasn’t a dickless asshole.

“I’d like to take some time to read over the papers. Can I have a few days?” I managed after a beat.

Picking up her wine glass, she threw it back, gulping down the contents. Leaning forward, she clutched her purse to her chest. “You never wanted her,” she seethed. “You’ve made that very clear. I’ll be in touch.” With that, she stood and looped her arm through her purse strap and walked out.

I sat back, my hand holding my whiskey glass as I watched her hail a cab through the front window. With her left arm in the air, watching the traffic, she nearly jumped when a short man tapped her shoulder. His clothes were dirty and riddled with holes, and he wore a beanie pulled down over his long greasy hair. He said something to her, and she smiled, attempting to hide her frustration as she opened her purse and pulled a few dollar bills out, handing them to him. He bowed his head in thanks, and she nodded, waving it off before he scurried away.

When a cab stopped, she climbed in, and it drove her away. I don’t think I moved for a solid five minutes as I continued to stare out of the window wondering what in the hell I’d done to deserve this?





“That fucking cock sucker,” my brother Matt, bellowed from where he sat at the kitchen table.

“Matty,” I hissed, scolding him. “Language.”

“Oh, Jesus, Pim’s been down for hours,” he brushed me off before taking a long swig from his beer. He wasn’t happy about the news, and I couldn’t blame him. His brow was wrinkled, and his mouth was ticked up on one side—his famous, ‘I’m pissed’ look. Our biggest fear for so long had been that Max might wake up one day and change his mind about wanting to be in her life; about wanting to be a dad. But more so, what happened to Pim if something happened to me? Max would have first rights to her, and that was something that terrified Matt and me.