Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“And what about you?” Willow asks. “If Mommy is getting married, does that mean you’ll be lonely?”
“No, princess,” I say. “How can I be lonely when I have you?”
I think about Aurora. The last few days have flown because they’ve all been about her. Or work. Sunday was…incredible. Our connection is stronger than I’ve ever experienced before. I can’t get enough of her.
“But you don’t have a person to be married to like Mommy has Ray. What about when you don’t live with me. Are you lonely?”
“No, darling. Are you lonely when you’re at school?”
She shrugs and then says, “Sometimes I miss you.”
“Sometimes I miss you too. But I do lots of work and sometimes I see my friends.”
“What friends?”
“Lots of different friends.”
Aurora.
Aurora.
Aurora.
I shake my head, trying to get a break from the unrelenting thoughts of her.
“I don’t want you to be lonely, Daddy.”
I lean over and kiss the top of her head. “I don’t get lonely. Don’t you worry about Daddy.”
“Where do you live when you don’t live here? Mommy lives with Ray. They live in a house two streets away.”
“I stay in a hotel,” I say.
“Like when we go on holiday?” she asks, her eyes brightening.
“Exactly,” I say.
“So you go on holiday without me?”
I laugh. “I would never! I just sleep there. In the day, I go to work. And at night, I sleep in the hotel.”
Willow looks confused as she chews on her chicken. She swallows and then says, “You should have a house, like Mommy and Ray.”
“I’m fine. This is my home.”
“This is Mommy’s home too. She has two homes.”
This conversation is making me itch. I can’t help but think that Gabby is talking to her about living in different places and how awesome it is. She’s softening the ground because she wants Willow to be living across two homes.
I’m furious that she’s doing this before we’ve come to an agreement. And I don’t want to come to an agreement. I want things to stay as they are. I think.
Aurora might be right. Willow might be okay with two homes. But what if she isn’t?
My back is against the wall. If I don’t agree, Gabby’s going to force the matter. She’ll take me to court if she doesn’t get what she wants. My lawyers have always told me that the court is almost certain to agree to a traditional custody arrangement if either of us changed our minds.
I’m in a no-win situation.
“You want Daddy to have a place when you’re not with him?” I ask her.
She nods her head vigorously, like I’ve asked her if she wants to watch a movie before bed—which she always asks for and is always told no.
“Maybe I should think about that,” I say. Realistically, if I agree to a new arrangement with Gabby, I’d want to keep this house, so I’m not about to go house hunting. I’d want Willow to have as little change as possible.
“Yes, please. And can I have a room there?” she asks.
I can’t help but wonder whether Gabby has told her she’s going to have a room at her place with Ray.
“Of course,” I say.
“A room with pink stripes on the walls.”
“That sounds phenomenal. Can I have that in my bedroom as well?”
“I think you should have a different color to me, Daddy. Purple because your favorite color is purple.”
I press another kiss to her head. “Because it’s the color of Bear Bear.”
She nods again. “Purple stripes,” she says. “And I’ll have pink stripes.”
She can’t possibly know what she’s saying, and I’m glad Gabby’s not here to hear her. She’d take it as evidence that Willow’s going to be fine schlepping between two homes. That’s not for Willow to decide. But the fact is, the walls are closing in and I’m going to have to make a deal with Gabby.
It’s going to be the first deal I’ve ever done where I come off worse than the other side. But I don’t have a choice. We’ve managed co-parenting without an issue so far. There’s no point in dying on this hill when I know all that would happen is Gabby would win in the end.
If I agree now, I’ll just make sure I keep the house. That way, I get to manage Willow’s transition better by keeping everything here the same.
As if she’s in my brain, my phone buzzes. It’s Gabby, telling me she wants to talk about things this week.
“It’s your mommy,” I say. “I’m just going to message her back.”
I take a deep breath and type out a text saying I’ll agree to Willow going to her house on the condition that we all go to family counseling together and I stay in the townhouse.
I get a message back immediately. She tells me that I’m overreacting and that Willow doesn’t need counseling. And she says that me keeping the townhouse isn’t fair because Willow will feel more comfortable with me.