Chapter 25 Tasha
twenty-five
tasha
By the time Nate came inside twenty minutes later, I had Paige settled on the couch with a movie and a promise that pizza was on the way.
She'd accepted my explanation about "boring grown-up paperwork" with the resilience of an eleven-year-old who'd had four perfect days and wasn't going to let anything ruin her mood.
"Is 'The Emperor's New Groove' okay?" I'd asked, scrolling through streaming options.
"I've never seen it," Paige had replied, already curled up with her stuffed axolotl.
"Oh, you're in for a treat. I probably watched this a hundred times when I was your age."
Now, as Nate finally walked through the front door, his face looked like he'd aged a decade in the space of our conversation. The legal papers were clutched in his hand, and his eyes had that hollow look I recognized from the worst trauma cases in the ER.
"Pizza will be here in thirty minutes," I said quietly, nodding toward the living room where Paige was already giggling at Kuzco's antics. "She's good for now."
He nodded and sank onto one of the kitchen chairs like his legs had given out. I sat across from him, close enough to reach out if he needed it but giving him space to process.
"I haven't felt like this since Iraq," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
My heart clenched. I'd seen glimpses of what his service had cost him, but he'd never put it in those terms before.
"Tell me what you're thinking," I said gently.
He set the papers on the table between us, smoothing them out with shaking hands. "I always thought... if Sarah ever wanted back in Paige's life, she'd call. Maybe send an email. We'd talk about it like adults." He laughed, the sound bitter. "I never imagined lawyers and court papers and... this."
I picked up the documents, scanning the legal language with growing unease. "Modification of custody. That's not just asking for visitation, Nate. She's asking for joint custody."
"I know." His voice cracked. "After eleven years. Eleven years of nothing, and now she wants to take Paige away from the only life she's ever known."
"Why now?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew. "What changed?"
"I sent an email to her parents. About us. About you being part of our lives." He buried his face in his hands. "This is all my fault. I opened the door."
"No," I said firmly. "This is not your fault. You shared good news with people who should have been happy for you. For Paige. If they passed that information to Sarah with malicious intent, that's on them."
He looked up at me, and I could see all his old fears written across his face. "What if she's right? What if Paige needs her biological mother? What if I've been selfish keeping them apart?"
"Nate." I reached across the table and took his hands. "Listen to me. Sarah walked away when Paige was three months old. She made her choice. You didn't keep them apart—she chose to leave."
"But she's her mother--"
"No," I interrupted, more forcefully than I'd intended. "Being a mother isn't about biology. It's about showing up. It's about being there when your child is scared or sick or just needs someone to listen. You've been doing that for eleven years. YOU are her parent."
He was quiet for a long moment, staring down at our joined hands. "What if I'm not good enough? What if I never was? What if she realizes she'd be better off with Sarah?"
The broken way he said it made my heart ache. This man who'd raised an incredible daughter, who'd built a life from nothing, who'd taught me what real love looked like… and he still couldn’t see his own worth.
"You're good enough," I said, gripping his hands tighter. "You're more than good enough. And if you don't want to believe it for yourself, then believe me when I tell you. You're so good that I fell in love with you, Nate. With both of you. With the family you built and the man you are."
His eyes widened, and for a moment the fear was replaced by something else—wonder, maybe, or disbelief.
"You telling me that..." he said slowly, "this should be one of the happiest days of my life."
The words hung between us, beautiful and tragic. Here we were, finally saying what we'd been feeling for months, and it was happening in the shadow of the worst possible threat.
"It will be again," I promised. "We're going to fight this. Together."
"How? She has lawyers. Real lawyers. And I... I don't know anything about custody law. I've never had to think about it."
I could see him starting to spiral again, that military bearing kicking in as he tried to figure out how to handle this crisis alone. But he wasn't alone anymore.
"Hey," I said, squeezing his hands to get his attention. "Look at me. I'm here. This is us now, not just you. You don't have to be strong enough for the world all by yourself anymore."
Something shifted in his expression—relief, maybe, or the beginning of hope.
"We don't tell Paige anything yet," I continued. "Not until we understand what we're dealing with. But Nate, you need to know—I'm not going anywhere. Whatever this takes, however we need to fight it, I'm in. All the way."
He nodded, and I could see some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Not all of it—this was still a nightmare—but enough that he could breathe again.
"I love you too," he said quietly. "In case that wasn't clear."
I smiled despite everything. "It was getting pretty clear, yes."
From the living room came the sound of the poison for Kuzco, the poison chosen especially to kill Kuzco, Kuzco's poison, along with Paige's delighted laughter. Our normal life, continuing just a few feet away, while we sat in the kitchen planning how to protect it.
"So what do we do?" he asked.
"First, we read every word of these papers. Then we figure out what Sarah actually wants and what she's legally entitled to. Then we make a plan."
"Together?"
"Together," I confirmed. "That's what families do."
The word settled between us, solid and reassuring. Whatever was coming, we'd face it as a family. All three of us.
Even if one of us didn't know the battle had started yet.