Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
The room remains silent until the door is closed behind them. Mike turns to me, breathing a sigh of relief, and says, “It’s a fair offer, but if you want to fight for more time with Beckett or have more say when he’s in her care, we can proceed with our previous plan.”
“It’s not about winning. It’s about doing what’s best for my son. I want it over. I’m tired. I’m sure she is as well.” Still finding some humor after the hours this morning spent negotiating custody and related issues to his care, I crack a smile, and say, “I’m really tired of the legal bills.”
He laughs. “I’m sure you are. Personally, I’ll miss that monthly payment.”
“I bet you will. My bank account will be thrilled.”
“The judge has already approved the arrangement, so if you’re ready to accept the deal, all you need to do is sign.”
I was ready two years ago. It just took her that time and a lot of money to realize I’m not giving up custody, but I’ll share. We ended right back where we started, what I offered in the beginning. Fifty-fifty and other arrangements can be discussed for special circumstances when they arise. I take the pen and sign the agreement, putting an end to the battle and saving us both a lot of damn money. “Done.”
“I’ll get copies to the other attorneys and get the paperwork filed for you to make it official.” He stands. When I do, we shake hands. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“Is this about the money again?”
He laughs. “Sure is.” Collecting the paperwork, he adds, “I’m glad it worked out, Tagger. Now you can move on with your life and enjoy time with your son.”
“I intend to.” I open the door to the conference room and start down the hall. Behind a wall of glass, I see Anna and her attorney deep in conversation. Her eyes track me as I walk by, and she jumps to her feet and rushes to the door. “Hey, Tagger?”
“I signed.”
Relief washes through her expression, ending with half a smile. That’s more than she typically offers since she claims happiness turns into wrinkles. “Thank you. It’s not why I wanted to talk to you, though.”
“What is it? Do I need a lawyer present?” The joke doesn’t land, but I also don’t know how much I was kidding.
She laughs. “Funny. You were always funny. Beckett takes after you that way. He can be such a clown. It’s cute and sweet.”
“He’s a little goose alright.” The small talk is surprising. She hasn’t had a taste for that when it comes to me in a long time. And as much as I could talk about our son all day, I don’t have the same patience for her. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Um.” She looks at a lady passing and then lowers her head and goes quiet until we’re alone again. She looks up and says, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m glad this is settled, but I also wanted to apologize. I’m sorry for not agreeing sooner.”
We were never a good match, but we have an amazing son from the relationship, so it’s hard to have regrets. “Hey,” I say, giving her an attagirl nudge to the arm to lighten the mood. “We got there in the end. Now we can focus on Beckett and what’s best for him.”
She clasps her hands in front of her. “Right. Well, thank you.”
“Thank you, Anna. It’s good to put this behind us.” I start down the hall.
“He talks about Peachtree Pass all the time,” she says behind me.
I stop and turn back. “Yeah?”
She tentatively comes a bit closer. “He talks about the horses and chickens, how you rode with him in the saddle with you.” She smooths her hair over her ear, though I know that’s a nervous tic of hers. It’s always perfectly in place. Today, it’s even pulled back, and not a hair dares to escape. “Sounds like I missed out on all the fun.”
A memory of her making us leave because she felt dirty from being in the middle of Texas comes to mind. “It’s dustier than ever.”
“Right. Dirt.” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Not my favorite.” She glances away as if she’s not sure what to say to keep me there a little longer, which is odd because she usually wants me to leave as soon as possible. But then she says, “But Beckett loved it, so if you’re going back this summer and want to stay longer than a few days, we can work that out.”
The walls I’ve held for years around her start to crumble, my shoulders already feeling lighter. “I appreciate that, Anna. I have some vacation time saved. It would be nice to go back for the festival in June and spend some time there.”