Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I let out a harsh laugh. “You wanted me to know. That’s big of you.”
“Coop…”
“No. That’s not how this works, Sarah. They’re my kids too, damn it.”
“I know. Of course I know that,” she whispered, blotting a tear at the corner of her eye. “I don’t have any details. We won’t make a decision until summertime. That’s months from now. And I won’t say anything to Ivy or Chase yet either. But…it’s good money and a good opportunity for Frank.”
“Huh.”
“Coop, no matter what happens we’ll put the kids first, same as always. I mean, there are plenty of divorced parents who live in other states and make it work and—” Sarah stopped abruptly and rebuttoned her coat. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you, and I’m making a hash of this. Let’s just talk later.”
She was gone before I could form a coherent thought. The click of her heeled boots on the hardwood flooring, the thud of the heavy door closing, followed by a silence so profound it took my breath away.
My mind was reeling. I couldn’t decide if I was angry or hurt or just too blindsided to make heads or tails of things. I went with blindsided, and that didn’t help. In fact, it pissed me off…as if I should have put clues the kids had unwittingly dropped together and had a comeback ready.
But I hadn’t and—
I reached for the glass she’d left on the island and hurled it at the wall.
Fuck!
I didn’t sleep that night. I was fired up and stressed out. And somewhere in between meeting with an important investor and running the fucking mill, I was going to have to talk to a lawyer about my rights.
Sarah’s conciliatory voice mail later that day should have calmed me.
“I’m so sorry, Coop. I fucked up last night. I should have planned my speech better or…I don’t know.” Deep sigh. “Listen, nothing is happening right away. We have time to plan and make sure everyone is happy and on the same page. And we’ll do that. I promise we’ll get this as close to right as possible. And I’ll keep you posted, so you’re in the loop—no surprises. I just…I don’t want to hurt you. You’re the best dad in the world, and those kids worship you and…” Sniff. “I’m sorry. Let’s leave this alone for now. No worrying, okay? I’ll see you at pickup on Sunday. Bye.”
Was I appeased? A little. Maybe.
At least she wasn’t packing up house next week and fucking off to the opposite end of the country. But she might…soon. And I had to be prepared.
Two weeks passed in a blur of work and kid activities, interspersed with researching paternity rights and securing representation. I quickly realized that I couldn’t hire a local lawyer. Word would spread like wildfire in the Four Forest area, and the last thing I wanted was for my family to become the hot topic of gossip. I made an appointment to see an attorney in Rutland instead and tried to ignore the heart-wrenching online stories of fathers who got fucked over in divorce situations.
What the hell would I do if they moved to San Diego? I couldn’t fathom it. Those kids were my…everything. I’d have to move. Did they have a logging industry in Southern California? I hit Google again and wound up on a website for San Diego Comic-Con, featuring pics from the previous year’s convention where Liam Sutcliffe and the cast from Trilogy Alpha Team had stolen the show.
I stared at the sinfully sexy movie star and wondered why his name was familiar. Sure, he was famous, but that wasn’t it. Someone had mentioned him recently and—
Oh…yeah. Layla.
Something about Silas’s ex dating a star. I clicked the actor’s name, unthinking. I supposed I needed a distraction that had nothing to do with my current angst and ogling a tall, handsome man was a good one. I hadn’t counted on Silas popping into my feed.
Liam with his girlfriend, Alli Anderson, the former wife of football veteran, Silas Anderson.
I swiped past the new couple and zoomed in on a few recent shots of Silas in workout clothes, tattooed muscles glistening, and dark sunglasses. He looked—well…totally miserable. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, and his jaw jutted forward as if clenched unhappily.
“I can relate, big guy.”
I closed my laptop, slumped into the sofa cushions, and propped my feet on the coffee table. It was hard to believe he’d been here in this house almost two months ago. I’d hoped he was doing well…with a new gig and a new purpose. Silas had seemed happier in Wood Hollow than in those pics, up to his eyeballs in snow and—
I dug my phone from my pocket, searched my photos, and found the one I’d taken of the snowman Ivy and Chase had finished.