Page 87 of Velvet Chains

We stood side by side, both of us watching her in silence for a moment.

"She’s getting faster," Julian said. "Remember when she couldn’t reach the monkey bars?"

"She used to throw tantrums about it. Now she just vaults across."

“She’s finding new things to throw tantrums about all the time,” he said. He nodded toward the bench. “I bought you coffee. It’s cold.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Cold coffee is my favorite. Particularly now. Very festive.”

“I thought as much,” Julian said, biting back a smile.

We sat, a comfortable distance between us. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but more familiar than it used to be. I sipped the coffee and winced; it was too hot.

“I meant the weather was cold,” Julian said.

“I got that. You didn’t tell me this would burn me.”

“Ah, yes. Well. Watch yourself. It might burn you.”

“Thanks. Your timing is amazing.”

He laughed, rolling his shoulders back as he sat next to me. “It’s been a good weekend,” he said. “Relatively speaking. Except…she’s been asking a lot of questions. About why we’re still married. Why we don’t really live together.”

I sipped my hot coffee. "What did you tell her?"

"That grown-ups are complicated. That we love her more than anything."

“Yeah. That’s true.”

“She came home with a million more questions, but at least she was practically glowing," Julian said.

"Can you maybe siphon some of that off this time?"

He gave me a long look. "We both know we’re better at pretending to get along than we are at actually doing it."

"She doesn’t need to be part of that. I want her to feel like everything’s okay," I said.

He peered at me again, and I felt…exposed. Like he was using his damn attorney powers to delve too deep into what I was feeling, what I was thinking.

And my thoughts…they weren’t fucking clean.

“Iseverything okay, Ruby?” he asked, and it felt like an accusation.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Took another sip of coffee instead. "It will be," I said finally. This was when we usually let the conversation die, but he had just given me an opening and I was going to have to take it–no matter how much it hurt. “You need to adopt her.”

His head turned, slow and sharp. “What?”

“When we both sign the papers and the divorce is final,” I said, keeping my voice even, “you need to have adopted her. Otherwise…”

He took a long sip from his cup, eyes narrowing as he studied me. “Otherwise what? Finish your sentence.”

“…otherwise, if something happens to me, custody isn’t guaranteed.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Just shifted his gaze back to Rosie, who was now hanging upside down by her knees, laughing like the world was made of joy and sunlight.

“We’ve had this conversation,” he said finally. “Your guardianship preferences are in the estate plan. I’m listed.”

“As my spouse,” I replied. “Not as her legal parent.”