Page 78 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)

“It’s more than rough, Forrest.” Her composure cracks slightly, revealing the devastation beneath.

“It’s humiliating. I went all-in on Henry.

I thought he was the upgrade I’d been waiting for.

Wealthy, connected, ambitious.” She swallows hard.

“Turns out I was just a placeholder until something younger and shinier came along.”

I shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. Hannah and I don’t talk like this anymore. Our interactions have been limited to terse text messages about Dakota’s schedule and needs.

“What can I do?” I ask finally. “Do you need help finding a place to stay, or?—”

“I want another chance,” she interrupts, leaning forward. “With you. With us.”

The words hang in the air between us, impossible and absurd.

“Hannah—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she rushes on.

“That I walked away. That I broke up with you. But I’ve changed, Forrest. I’ve learned that money isn’t everything.

I could settle for this.” She gestures vaguely at our surroundings.

“A brownstone in need of upgrades. A simpler life. I’m willing to live more humbly now. ”

The irony of her calling Sora’s multimillion-dollar brownstone “humble” would be laughable if the situation weren’t so painfully awkward.

“Hannah,” I say gently, “that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?” A flash of the old Hannah—entitled, imperious—surfaces briefly before she smooths it away. “We have history, Forrest. A child together. We could be a real family again.”

I run a hand through my hair, searching for the right words. “Look, I understand you’re going through a hard time. And I’m genuinely sorry about that. I know what it’s like when life turns out differently than you planned.”

Her eyes sharpen with interest. “What do you mean?”

I hesitate, then decide that honesty might be the only way to make her understand how much things have changed. “I haven’t been a financial consultant, Hannah. That was a cover. I’ve been working as an escort for the past four years.”

Her jaw drops. “An escort? As in?—”

“As in women paid me to be their date, yes.” I meet her gaze steadily. “Sometimes more than that. It was the only way I could make enough money to keep Dakota in that fancy school you insisted on and still handle my other financial obligations.”

“I don’t believe you.” But her expression says otherwise—shock giving way to calculation as she reassesses me.

“It’s true. I quit recently. I’m starting over from the ground up, trying to figure out what’s next.” I gesture toward the bar exam materials on the desk. “I’m finally taking the bar. Building a legitimate career.”

“You’re going to be a lawyer?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “After all this time?”

“Yes. It’s what I studied, after all.” I lean forward slightly.

“My point is, if I can rebuild my life after that mess, so can you. You don’t need to chase after men like Henry.

You’re smart, capable. You always talked about interior design.

Maybe now’s the time to pursue that. You’d be great at it. ”

“That’s not what I want.” Something shifts in her expression—a softening, a vulnerability I haven’t seen since our early days together. She stands, moving toward me with purpose.

“Maybe fashion design?” I ask awkwardly.

“What I want,” she says softly, “is you.”

Before I can react, she’s leaning in, her hands coming up to frame my face as she tries to press her lips to mine. I jerk backward, nearly toppling over the desk in my haste to create distance.

“Whoa! No, Hannah, stop.” I raise my hands defensively.

“But you’re being so nice, Forrest?—”

“You’ve misunderstood. I was trying to be kind, to give you hope about your future, not— not this .”

Her face flushes with humiliation. “You’re seriously rejecting me? For her?” The way she says her drips with disdain. “How can you choose a fling over our history?”

“Not a fling. I’m in love with Sora,” I say firmly. “I live here with her. We’re building a life together.”

Hannah scoffs. “Please. You barely know her. What’s it been, a month? Two?”

“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. What I feel for her…” I pause, searching for words that won’t wound Hannah further but also won’t diminish what Sora means to me. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her. Not even you, Hannah. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

The color drains from her face, then returns in two angry spots high on her cheekbones. “You’re saying you love this—this nobody more than you ever loved me?”

“She’s not a nobody. And yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Hannah’s eyes narrow to slits. “Well. Thank you for your honesty.” She straightens, adjusting her coat with jerky movements. “I think this conversation is over.”

She strides to the door and yanks it open. Panic builds in my chest as she stalks down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“Hannah, wait?—”

She ignores me, entering the kitchen where Sora and Dakota are stacking pancakes on plates. Dakota looks up, face brightening at the sight of her mother.

“Mommy! We made extra for you! They have chocolate chips and Sora cut strawberries in heart shapes!”

“Get your things, Dakota,” Hannah says, clipped. “We’re leaving.”

Dakota’s smile falters. “But…our pancakes…”

“Now, Dakota.” Hannah’s tone is bone-breakingly harsh. “We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”

I step forward. “Hannah, you can’t just take her.” I try to keep my voice level despite the heat lashing my throat. “Our agreement?—”

“Was based on lies. You were a sex worker while caring for our child. I wonder what a judge would make of that.”

Dakota looks between us, confusion and distress clouding her features. “I don’t want to go,” she says in a small voice. “I live with Daddy and Sora now.”

Hannah crouches down to Dakota’s level, her expression softening into something almost sincere. “If you don’t come with Mommy right now,” she says, her voice gentle but her words venomous, “you will never, ever see me again. Is that what you want? To lose your mommy forever?”

“That’s enough,” I growl, stepping between them. “You don’t get to manipulate her like that.”

But the damage is done. Dakota’s face crumples, tears welling in her large eyes. “I don’t want to lose Mommy,” she sobs. “But I don’t want to leave Daddy!”

The sound of her crying guts me, a physical pain like someone’s reached into my chest and squeezed.

The crying turns to wailing, and I can feel her sobs pulsing through my body like a wretched heartbeat.

I can’t bear to see her torn apart like this, forced to choose between parents who should be putting her needs first.

I kneel down beside her, gently wiping her tears. “Hey, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay .” With Koda safely in my arms, I throw daggers at Hannah with my eyes. “You really want to do this?”

Hannah delivers back an ice-cold look. “I said what I said. Me or you. She can decide.”

Koda’s small body heaves with sobs that seem too big. “I don’t w-want to ch-choose.”

“You don’t have to,” I assure her, though each word costs me. “You can go with Mommy now, and I’ll come get you as soon as I can. I promise.”

Her tear-filled eyes search mine. “But what if Mommy doesn’t let me see you again?”

“That won’t happen,” I say firmly, glaring up at Hannah over Dakota’s head. “Daddy will always be here for you, whenever you need me. Nothing will ever change that.”

Sora bends down beside us, her face pale but composed. “Dakota, why don’t I help you pack Mr. Flops and some of your favorite things?”

Dakota nods miserably, and Sora takes her hand, leading her toward the bedroom.

“This is cruel, and you know it,” I say once they’re out of earshot, keeping my voice low but unable to hide my anger. “You abandoned her for Henry, and now you’re using her as a weapon because I rejected you?”

“I’m protecting my daughter from living with a man who sells his body for money,” she bites back. “Did you really think I’d let her just stay here?”

“She’s been happy here, Hannah. Safe and loved. You know that.”

“What I know is that you’ve been living a lie.” She glances around the kitchen with contempt. “Playing house with your little girlfriend while hiding your sick secrets.”

“At least I was here,” I counter, the words sharp with years of pent-up resentment. “I didn’t ship her off to boarding school so I could follow some cheater halfway around the world.”

Hannah’s eyes sharpen dangerously. “Don’t you dare judge me. You have no idea what it’s like to be a woman trying to secure a future in this world.”

“A future that didn’t include your own child?”

“A future I was building for both of us! Henry would have provided everything she could ever need.”

“Except what she needed most! A mother who put her first. A mother who was there for her.”

The barb lands, and for a moment, I see genuine hurt flash across her face before it hardens into resolve. “I’m taking her home with me today. If you want to see her again, you’ll need to go through proper legal channels.”

Before I can respond, Sora returns with Dakota, carrying a small backpack stuffed with Dakota’s essential comfort items—Mr. Flops, her favorite blanket, several picture books, and the dinosaur pajamas she insists on wearing at least three nights a week these days.

Sora kneels to give Dakota a hug. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart.”

Hannah makes a small, dismissive sound. “Not a threat,” she mutters under her breath, loudly enough for me to hear. “She’s not even pretty.”

Then, to me, “Don’t bother trying to see her. I’ll be contacting a lawyer first thing Monday. You’ll be lucky to get supervised visits once the court learns about your work history. This little arrangement we’ve had is over, Forrest.”

She takes Dakota’s hand, dragging her toward the door with barely disguised impatience. Dakota peers back over her shoulder, her face streaked with tears, her free hand clutching Mr. Flops.

“Bye, Daddy,” she squeaks. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” I manage, my throat so tight it hurts. “So, so much.”

The door closes behind them with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot to my ears. For a moment, I stand frozen, disbelief warring with despair. Then the smell of burning pancakes registers, and something inside me splinters.

My knees give way, and I sink to the floor, a raw, animal sound escaping my throat. Sora is beside me instantly, her arms encircling me as I break apart completely.

“She took her,” I gasp, my voice unrecognizable. “She took Dakota.”

“I know,” Sora murmurs, rocking me gently. “I know.”

“I should have fought harder. I should have?—”

“You did the right thing,” she interrupts my self-deprecation. “You put Dakota first. You didn’t force her to choose. That would’ve traumatized her.”

“What am I going to do? Why the hell did I tell Hannah the truth?” The reality of it hits me anew, another wave of agony. “She’ll use it against me in court. I could lose Dakota forever.”

“That won’t happen.” Sora cradles my face between her hands, her gaze fierce and determined. “We’ll fight this, Forrest. Together. Hannah doesn’t get to swoop in and destroy what you’ve built.”

I want to believe her. I want to find strength in her certainty.

But all I can see is Dakota’s tearstained face, all I can hear is her broken goodbye.

My daughter, my heart walking outside my body, taken from me by a woman who sees her as a possession to be claimed rather than a child to be cherished.

“I can’t lose her,” I whisper, a confession and a prayer.

“You won’t,” Sora promises, holding me tighter as I collapse against her, sobs racking my body. “We’ll call a lawyer today. We’ll get ahead of this. Surely you know someone?”

Of course I do. And when I call her, Rina will unleash hell.

But for now, all I can do is grieve. The weight of Dakota’s absence already feels unbearable. The brownstone—so warm and full of life just minutes ago—now seems like a graveyard of shame. I did this. I caused this.

In the kitchen, the pancakes burn, filling the house with acrid smoke. But neither of us moves to save them. Some things, once broken, can’t be salvaged.

And right now, I’m afraid my heart might be one of them.