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FIVE

BOB MILLER

“What are my chances of getting full custody of Summer?” I already know the answer, but sometimes you just have to hear it from someone else, like my lawyer, Brad.

We’ve known each other since we were in law school—where we both did whatever we could to get ahead. It’s probably why we’re still friends, tethered together by the terrible things we’ve done.

Brad sits across from me in a café situated in downtown Manassas. He bites into a piece of dry toast, revealing veneers that are a shade too white. Crumbs tumble into his lap, and he quickly brushes them to the floor. My food has gone mostly untouched; I’m still too angry to eat. I can’t believe Sarah has the gall to demand full custody, especially given our history. It’s an emotional move on her part, completely out of the norm for someone like her.

Brad finishes chewing before he speaks. “Virtually zero,” he says, patting his lips with a napkin. “Unless you can prove Sarah is a danger to Summer.” He pauses and arches a brow. “Has Sarah ever been violent with Summer?”

The question swirls around my brain, kicking up old memories—well, one, to be exact. It plays out in front of me, as vivid as the day it happened, and I think that’s because this was an event that changed the course of my entire life.

Brad and the café fade away, and there I am, standing in front of Sarah Morgan’s office, late at night, over a decade ago. Everyone was gone for the evening—even Anne, which was rare because those two were attached at the hip. My knuckles rapped lightly against the door, as I didn’t want to appear too eager. I had a plan in mind, and the manila envelope clutched in my hand would set the whole thing in motion.

“Come in,” Sarah called from the other side of her office door.

I didn’t hesitate to enter, and my presence immediately garnered a look of disappointment. Not surprising, though, because we weren’t fond of each other in the slightest.

Her gaze fell to the papers strewn about her desk, signaling she wasn’t going to give me her full attention. “What, Bob?”

“I have something for you,” I said, crossing the room and placing the envelope right on top of Sarah’s case files, my way of showing her that I did, in fact, deserve her full attention.

She paused, eyeing it suspiciously. We were sworn enemies at that point because we were both trying to climb the same corporate ladder. She was ahead of me, having made named partner earlier that year. That promotion wasn’t supposed to go to either of us since there were two associates with more seniority—but mysteriously, one was fired for misconduct and the other quit without notice. I always thought she had something to do with them losing their jobs. Partner at thirty-three? Ha! It’s only possible if you eliminate the competition, and she was my competition, so I needed to get rid of her.

“What’s this?” she asked, trying to act disinterested.

“Just open it.”

She hesitated, but then curiosity got the best of Sarah, and her long red nails slipped under the metal clasp, gently bending the prongs back. Opening the flap, she slid her hand into the envelope and pulled out the stack of photographs. I watched her face, studying it, waiting for it to change as she flipped through each one. A trembling lip. A tear forming in the corner of her eye. A furrowed brow. But nothing changed. She was stoic, and it was as though she were reviewing a case rather than intimate photos of her husband with another woman.

“Where did you get these?” she asked, still flipping through them.

“Let’s just say ... I keep close tabs on the woman your husband is having an affair with.”

That got her attention, and she met my gaze, slightly narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

“Because she killed my brother.”

Sarah lifted a brow and returned the photos to me. “If that’s true, why isn’t she in prison?”

“Because not everyone pays for their crimes.” I cocked my head. “As a lawyer, you, of all people, should know that.”

She leaned back in her chair, placing her elbows on the armrests and steepling her hands in front of her face. She was quiet for a moment. I had no idea what she was thinking since her reaction wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I thought she’d be inconsolable and destructive, ready to scorch the earth. But no, not Sarah.

“Why’d you tell me this?” she asked.

“I just figured you should know ... I’m sorry.” It took everything in me to offer her my condolences because I didn’t mean it. I sealed it with a sympathetic look, hoping she believed it.

“No.” She squinted. “I know why you think you’re telling me this, Bob.”

“What?”

“You thought I’d freak out, take a leave of absence, get tied up in some messy divorce, lose my focus. And then what? You’d swoop in and take my partnership.”

“Sarah, no. That’s not true at all,” I lied. She had me pegged, always one step ahead, too smart for her own good.

“It is, and it’s exactly why you think you shared this information with me.” Sarah leaned forward in her chair, drawing me in with her intense green eyes. I couldn’t help but stare back.

“But I know why you actually shared it with me.”

I gave her a confused look.

“You want what I want, Bob.”

“And what is it you think I want?”

“Revenge.” The corners of her lips perked up, forming the most sinister smile, instantly putting me under her spell. I knew things would be different between us after that. They couldn’t not be.

“Bob?” Brad says. He waves a hand in front of my face, forcing the past to melt away and my surroundings to return. “Has Sarah ever been violent with Summer?”

“No.” I shake my head. Not with Summer. I don’t say that part out loud, though, because for now, that’s only between me and Sarah.

I sip the mug of lukewarm coffee and pick at my food, selecting a piece of cold bacon.

“What about instances of neglect? Has she ever forgotten to pick Summer up from school? Anything like that?”

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to exhale the guilt and fear that have consumed me ever since I was served with divorce papers. Honestly, I thought Sarah would serve a bullet right through my forehead if she ever found out—so I was shocked that her response to my infidelity wasn’t lethal. And that’s what I’m holding on to. That’s why I think we can find our way back to each other. If she didn’t love me, she would have killed me.

“No, Sarah’s a wonderful mother,” I say.

“Then why do you want full custody, Bob?”

“I don’t. I want my family back together.”

Brad creases his brow. “I think we’re past that. We’ve already met with her and her lawyer three times now, and she’s not budging at all. And have you noticed her list of demands grows longer the more you drag this out? If you continue, eventually, she’s going to want everything.”

“She’s just angry.”

“She’s not though. She’s indifferent, which tells me it’s over. The faster you can accept that, the faster you can move on.”

I stare at him with unwavering eyes. “I can fix this.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then I’ll fight like my life depends on it.”

Brad cracks a smile. He thinks I’m trying to be funny, but I’m not. I will have to fight like my life depends on it because, with Sarah, I know it does.