Meet Cute(81)

“Christ. Am I going to lose her?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and rub my eyes, on the brink of cracking. My sister has written countless entries about how much she can’t stand me. “I don’t even know if she wants me to fight for her anymore.”

“I think you’ll need to talk to her about that, as painful as it is.”

I nod, my vision blurring. Everything I had seems to be slipping through my fingers. “I’ll speak with her.”

“Of course. Would you like to call me later?”

“Sure, yeah. That would be good.”

Trish stands and I do the same, but my legs are unsteady and my palms are damp.

“Thank you for stopping by.” I walk her to the door.

“Of course.”

Emme’s sitting in the waiting room with some blended drink—likely full of caffeine she doesn’t need. “Come on in, kiddo.” My voice breaks, the pain making the words jagged.

“Is everything okay?” She follows me into the office.

I motion to the couch. “I have to show you something and you need to be very honest with me about the truthfulness of it, okay?”

“Okay.” Her sleeve is in her mouth, the edge already wet from her chewing on it. The skin around her fingers is red and torn. Her anxiety is making her unable to manage without some kind of self-soothing.

I push the papers toward her with a heavy swallow. Her brows come down before her eyes flare. “Where’d you get these?” She flips through the pages with shaky fingers.

“Aunt Linda said you shared them with her.”

I watch her horrified expression change to confusion. “What?”

“These are photocopies. This is your writing.”

“I didn’t give them to her.” She shakes her head vigorously. “I would never show this to anyone. This is from my journal. I never let people read it ’cause it’s what I write when I’m upset, or mad, or sad and just feeling bad about stuff. I don’t know how Linda got this, Dax, and I-I don’t mean it.” She skims the painful words in black ink. “I don’t hate you. I just—sometimes I get so mad ’cause nothing makes sense and I don’t know how to handle all the things in my head. The counselor told me writing things down would help.” Tears well and she wipes them away with the heel of her hand.

“It’s like, we used to just have fun together. Before Mom and Dad died, you used to be fun Dax, but now you have to be another kind of Dax, too, and it’s hard. Sometimes you still get to be fun Dax, but other times when you make rules and stuff it reminds me of Dad, and then I miss him and wish he was here and that it could be different. Does that make sense?”

I give her a small smile. “It makes perfect sense, Emme, but you have to understand how much this worries me, that you think these things, sometimes.”

“I don’t really wish I was with Mom and Dad, not like you think that means.” She blows out a long breath. “Sometimes I really miss them and I wish I could be with them. And sometimes I just wish I could see them and make sure they didn’t hurt when it happened.”

“I understand exactly what you mean, but you can see how this wouldn’t look good, right?”

“I didn’t mean for Aunt Linda to see this. I don’t know how she got them.” She looks up at me, panic stricken. “Does this mean she’s going to take me away from you?”

“I’m going to fight to keep you with me, Emme, if that’s where you want to be.”

“I don’t want to live with anyone else.”

Just when things seemed like they were finally going to be okay, the bottom falls out again.





Chapter Twenty-Two





Down, Down, Down


Dax



Less than twenty minutes later, I receive a call from Beverly asking if I’m able to stop by the Whitman office on my way home. She has some paperwork that needs to be signed. Normally Kailyn would be the one to manage that, but maybe she’s still giving me space, or maybe she’s realized I’m nothing but a headache she doesn’t need.

Emme chews her nails until her fingers bleed on the way to the lawyer’s office. This whole situation is a complete nightmare.

Beverly greets us with a friendly smile. “I appreciate you stopping in. Kailyn wants to file this tomorrow morning, so the deadline is a little tight.”

“Is Kailyn here? Can I see her?” Emme asks, looking hopeful.

“I’m sorry, Emme, Kailyn’s not in the office. She has court today,” Beverly says softly.

Which is something I might’ve known if I hadn’t stonewalled her all weekend.

“Oh.” Her face crumples and I fear what will happen if Linda does get custody. I can’t imagine she’d let Emme see Kailyn.

“This won’t take long. You’ll be in and out of the office in just a few minutes,” Beverly assures Emme.

“Okay.” She settles in one of the waiting room chairs, knee bouncing anxiously.

“Is everything okay?” Beverly asks as she guides me to the conference room, the same one I waited in when I first came to see Kailyn after my parents passed. God, how things have changed since then.

“It’s been a rough day.”