Page 54 of Can’t Let You Go (Ivy Ridge #3)

FALLON

A t this point, I’m waiting for the papers to come.

I know it’s inevitable. Brad sees this as a challenge, and it’s one he wants to win.

I haven’t decided whether or not I should tell Presley about her dad.

It’s gotten to the point where she’s not asking about him everyday or crying when she comes home from school because it was “bring your dad to school day.”

I click out of the spreadsheet I’m working on when there’s a knock at my door. Isaac saunters in, wearing his usual button down and dark jeans. “Hey, how are things?” he asks. I can tell he’s trying to be casual, but it’s not working.

“I know you know,” I state, gesturing for him to sit.

He sighs, sitting down in one of the chairs across from my desk. Megan and I went to lunch on Sunday afternoon and I told her she could tell Isaac everything that happened. If anything, it’s one less person for me to tell.

“I do. Is there anything I can do to help?” That’s one of the great things about Isaac. He’s a great boss, but more than that, he’s a great friend, and all too willing to help anyone who needs it.

I shake my head, fiddling with my fingers in my lap. “No, I don’t think so. At this point, it’s a waiting game to see if I get served with paperwork petitioning for custody.”

“I’m sure Megan and I sound like a broken record, but we’re here for you, Fallon.”

“Thank you.” My heart clenches because I know I have so many people in my corner willing to help me through this.

I meet with a bride in about an hour, and then tonight, Jason is taking Lennie, Presley and me out for dinner.

He was very insistent that he was not only “wooing” me, but Presley, too.

It’s adorable. Last week, before all this craziness began, he sent me a bouquet of flowers from Josie’s shop, and also made sure to send a smaller one for Pres, too.

She was completely over the moon obsessed with the flowers, and made sure to tell everyone she saw that Jason had gotten her flowers.

Quite frankly, it’s adorable. I told him he didn’t need to do that but he didn’t listen. He also made sure to get Lennie flowers, so she was included as well.

A knock on my door pulls me out of my thoughts to an unfamiliar face in the doorway. “Hi, can I help you?” I ask. The man stands still in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other, firmly gripping a manilla envelope. My gut churns, as I immediately know what this is.

“Are you Fallon Douglas?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod.

“You’ve been served,” he says.

I don’t bother standing, simply hold out my palm. “Thank you.” He serves them to me with a grimace, and I wonder why he does this if he’s that uncomfortable to be serving me legal paperwork. You would think he does this often enough that he’s used to it by now.

The man exits, pulling my office door shut behind me.

For a few long minutes, I sit and stare at the envelope.

With trembling hands, I go to open the seal, but I hesitate.

Do I want to do this alone? I know of a handful of people who could be by my side within minutes, my mother included.

After everything happened last weekend, I made sure to call and update her.

To say she’s upset would be an understatement.

Do I want Jason by my side as I open this? I’ve done things alone for so long, gotten used to it, even, but now, I don’t have to. Even if I call him, and he’s on the phone with me, I think that will be more than enough.

Decision made, I tap on his contact and call him.

“Hey, sunshine, I was about to call you,” he says. The sound of his car door opening and closing sounds in the background.

“You were?”

“Yeah. One of the tap lines is cracked at the winery, so I’m replacing it this afternoon. I just pulled in. Want me to swing by your office and say hi? You have a meeting this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah, in an hour. Can you come here right away please?” I nearly beg.

“Sure, I’ll be right there. Is everything okay?” I can hear the concern in his voice, and I know I made the right choice by asking him to be here with me.

“Not really. Brad sent over the paperwork.”

“Shit,” he curses. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Not even thirty seconds later, the door to my office opens again. Jason flies through the door and rushes to my side. “Have you opened it yet?”

I shake my head, looking at the floor. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to do it alone.”

Jason pulls a chair up right next to mine. “That’s okay. I’m here. Do you want me to open it?”

I take a deep breath, and shake my head. “No, I can do it.” My fingers are still trembling, but I slide my pointer finger under the seal of the envelope. It slides open easily, and I reach in, pulling the thin packet of paperwork out.

Skimming the first few lines, which mainly contains Brad, Presley, and my full legal names, I take in more of the information. It is an official legal petition for shared custody.

He has it all laid out. He wants to have custody of her the entire summer break, and every school break, including alternating holidays. There is also an addendum that he can request a long weekend or time with her for special events.

Reading it makes me want to be sick. It makes it seem like she’s not a person, but a toy they can cart around and show off. That’s all I really ever was to Brad, anyway. It makes sense that’s what he’d want of our daughter, too.

When I’ve read through all the legalese a few times, I take in a few shuddering breaths.

I can’t believe this is really happening.

When he signed the form, I thought I would never have to worry about this.

It hurt like a bitch knowing he was so willing to give up our family at the drop of the hat, but now it’s like he’s using us to turn me into the bad guy.

Jason’s practically shaking with anger next to me.

“In other words, he wants to be the fun parent.” He swears under his breath.

“He wants to be the one that gets all the ‘fun time’. Summer breaks, any time she has off school. He wants that to be associated with him, so he can try to reverse her perspective.”

When he puts it like that, it clicks. Initially, I thought it was because of location, and him being in Boston, but this makes sense.

He never wanted to do the tough stuff of parenting.

I was always the one getting up at night, doing the feeds.

The one who took care of her when she was sick, or potty training, or taking her to doctor’s appointments.

God, it all makes sense now. He never wanted to be a real parent. He wanted the glory of being a “Dad”.

“You’re right,” I murmur. I think I’m numb. I should be raging. I should be coming up with a plan to fight this, but right now, all I can do is be numb. Try to process.

“We’ll figure a way around this, Fallon,” Jason says, his voice firm and promising.

I nod, my eyes unseeing, only focusing on Presley’s name written on the form.