Page 58

I smooth my hands down my sweater, desperate to stop the trembling that threatens to give away just how terrified I am. My palms are slick with sweat and no amount of deep breathing can calm my nerves or the tension in the room.

Cade sits beside me on the couch as his fingers drum against his thigh in a steady rhythm. With his shoulder’s back, his jaw locked and his eyes steady as steel, he’s perfected the art of looking calm when we’re clearly in a hugely fucked up situation.

The tension in the room isn’t just from the meeting we have today. It’s from the near-nuclear fight we had last night. Our first real fight that should have been a celebration of his win turned into a new world war.

He tried to break the news to me gently. As if there’s any gentle way of telling your wife you’re planning on walking into a ring and dying for her if he needs to.

It’s the only way, Savannah. If I don’t, the consequences will be worse.

As if any of that was supposed to make me feel better or stop the guilt churning through my stomach. He’s risking everything… for me, and I can’t be the reason for him to lose all of his dreams since he’s been so beneficial to mine.

We might’ve had make-up sex that left us both wrecked and gasping for air, but we didn’t actually make up. How the hell can we? My husband is about to jump into a ring with god knows who and he expects me to smile and wave him off like he’s going to the grocery store.

The fact he’s doing it for me… For us , makes it that much worse.

I’ve been trying to focus on this meeting, which could possibly be one of the most important conversations of Adley’s life, but every time I look at Cade, all I can think is that I love him too much to let him do this.

Knock. Knock.

Stanley’s ears shoot up, and he releases a soft woof before trotting toward the door with excitement.

I force myself to stand and brush past Cade without looking at him.

Every time I do, I feel myself tearing up.

When I get to the door, I scratch Stanley on the head before wrapping my hand around the knob.

Deep breaths, Savannah. Don’t fuck this up.

Fern McKinley's familiar face greets me, her warm smile offering a sliver of calm in the madness, but the woman beside her is all sharp angles and red lipstick. She’s professional in a way that screams I-eat-weak-people-for-breakfast .

“Good to see you, Savannah,” Fern says gently, gesturing to her companion. “This is Ivy Tipton, the attorney I mentioned. She specializes in cases exactly like yours.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ivy extends her hand with a smile but barely focuses on me. She’s already cataloguing every detail of our apartment like she's mentally preparing a report.

I take her hand, not trusting my voice. The last thing Adley needs is for me to say something stupid and torpedo her chances.

“Please, come in,” I manage.

Cade rises as they enter, and Ivy's attention locks onto him immediately. She's assessing him, trying to figure out what kind of man he really is under all that controlled composure.

If only she knew he was the kind of man stupid enough to risk everything for love, then she’d realize just how devoted to the cause he is.

My chest constricts as he meets her stare without flinching, radiating that quiet confidence that made me fall for him in the first place.

It’s the same confidence that makes me quietly believe he’ll win the fight and take down the worst man to have ever lived, but there’s the tiny part of me that doesn’t want him to even take that risk.

“You must be Cade,” Ivy says, stepping forward.

Stanley, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between us or the weight of this moment, happily sniffs around Ivy's legs before nudging her hand with his nose, demanding attention like the sweet boy he is.

For a split second, Ivy's professional mask slips. Her sharp features soften as she automatically reaches down to scratch behind his ears, and she smiles, breaking the cold-edged facade.

“Well, aren't you a sweetheart,” she murmurs to Stanley, her voice losing that crisp edge.

Something in my chest loosens just a fraction. Anyone who melts for dogs can't be completely heartless, right?

“Ivy's been reviewing Adley's case extensively,” Fern says, clasping her hands together. “Based on everything we've gathered, she's optimistic. But we still have significant work ahead.”

Cade and I exchange a look loaded with hope, terror, and the unresolved anger from last night. I gesture toward the couch, fighting the urge to make a scene in front of two people we’re supposed to be impressing.

“Let's sit.”

Stanley claims his spot at Cade's feet, and Ivy settles across from us, placing a thick file on the coffee table, but I catch her glancing at Stanley one more time, that soft expression flickering across her face again.

“As Fern mentioned, I have a lot of experience in cases like this,” Ivy begins, her voice regaining that professional edge now that we're down to business.

“I live for reuniting families and ensuring children end up where they'll actually thrive.

I've been dissecting Adley's case from every possible angle, and I won't blow sunshine up your ass, this isn't going to be as simple as filing some paperwork and calling it a day.”

My stomach drops like a stone.

“She's currently with a foster family who have a spotless record. No official reports of mistreatment, a solid history of caring for kids. On paper, they look like saints.” Ivy's eyes meet mine, unflinching.

“The fact that you're her biological sister definitely works in your favor, but your age is a significant obstacle. What we need to prove is that your home offers substantially better long-term stability than what she has now.”

I shift forward, desperation clawing at my throat. “But I know she's miserable there. So is Briar, her foster sister. That’s got to count for something, right?”

“It does,” Ivy says with a small nod, and I feel like I can breathe again.

“That's where Fern's documentation becomes invaluable.

She's been tracking Adley's situation since you first spoke, and we have detailed notes showing the emotional neglect in her current placement.

It's not outright abuse, but it paints a clear picture of a child who's surviving rather than thriving.”

Fern leans forward, offering that reassuring smile that's kept me sane through this whole nightmare. “The fact that you're married now also significantly strengthens your position.”

“Which brings us to Cade,” Ivy continues, her attention shifting to my husband with laser focus. “You're the primary breadwinner, correct?”

“Yes,” Cade confirms without hesitation, his voice is steady and sure.

The relief that floods through me at his calm certainty should probably worry me, especially when it could be taken away so quickly if a punch lands in the wrong way, or it gets out he’s fighting in the first place.

“Judges are obsessed with financial stability,” Ivy explains, flipping through her notes. “Marriage helps, but the fact that you're both full-time students raises red flags. How exactly are you planning to provide for Adley while finishing your degrees?”

Cade doesn't even blink. “I have a three-year contract with the Atlanta Anglerfish starting next season. It's already signed, sealed, and delivered. I can provide all the documentation you need to prove I'll have stable, substantial income.”

Ivy's eyebrow arches toward her hairline. “You’re going to be a professional athlete?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll be in Atlanta full-time, and the contract includes housing assistance, comprehensive medical coverage, and benefits that extend to both Savannah and Adley. I can provide a completely stable home for my family.”

My family. The way he says it, like it's already decided, like Adley's already in it, makes my chest tight with emotion.

“Yeah, I’ve worked with a baseball player in the past. Professional sports contracts are rock solid and the visibility you’ll have certainly strengthens your case considerably.

” Ivy considers this, her sharp mind clearly calculating.

“You’ll need to provide a copy of your contract, financial statements, benefit details, the works. The court will want concrete proof.”

“Not a problem,” Cade assures her, and I want to laugh at how easily he's handling this when my entire world feels like it's balanced on a knife's edge.

“How long does this process typically take?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ivy sighs, her expression softening slightly. “Best-case scenario? Three to six months, assuming everything goes smoothly. If the courts decide to drag their feet or if there are complications, it could take longer.”

My stomach sinks. Three to six months feels impossibly long.

Cade must sense my disappointment because his hand finds my thigh and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get through it. Three to six months isn’t that long, Sav.”

He’s right. I’ve waited six years after all.

“And I will work tirelessly to ensure this moves as quickly and smoothly as possible,” Ivy adds, her voice carrying the kind of confidence that costs five hundred dollars an hour.

Fern's smile softens like she can read the devastation written across my face. “You two clearly have a rock-solid foundation, which will carry significant weight with the judge.”

Yeah, so rock-solid that just before they entered, we were fighting.

Ivy closes the file, and there’s a finality in the move that makes me feel like this is really happening. Then she fixes her gaze on Cade. “I’d like to speak with you privately for a minute, if that’s possible?”

I frown. “Why?”

She meets my stare evenly, no bullshit in her expression. “Because if he's going to be financially responsible for Adley, I need him to understand exactly what that entails. It's standard procedure in cases like this.”

Cade glances at me briefly before nodding. “That's fine.”