Chapter 40
Forty
REESE
Charleigh rests her head against my chest, my heart still beating furiously behind my ribs. She squirms against me, fighting sleep. Either that, or she can sense my worries.
I haven’t said a word to Malaki or Zoe.
Malaki didn’t try to pry anything out of me after he talked to the mediator. I’m not entirely sure what she told him, but that’s something I can deal with when I get my thoughts straight.
My head is too messy.
Benedict’s lies tangle together, his opinions of me as a mother cutting so deep I ache.
The whole thirty-three minutes we spent in that cold room with lie after lie spilling from his mouth plays on repeat, my foolish, naive self unsuspecting that he’d go this far because of his jealousy.
Or whatever it is that is driving him to do this to me.
To us.
My eyes gloss over again.
I gently walk Charleigh over to her crib and place her inside of it, my heart tearing in half.
The thought of Benedict taking me to court for full custody of Charleigh is unfathomable.
If he continues to dig up things from my past to spin a narrative of how I’m an unfit mother like he did in the mediation, I don’t see how the custody hearing could go any other way.
I hang my head and listen to Zoe and Malaki whispering in the hallway.
“She didn’t say anything?”
“No. I figured it was best to just give her some space.”
“Don’t give her too much,” Zoe says. “She won’t admit it, but she needs us.”
Malaki sighs. “I gotta go to practice…I’ll be back around nine.”
They part ways, and I see Zoe’s bare feet stop outside of Charleigh’s door. She walks the short distance to the opposite wall and slides down until her butt hits the floor.
My sister is almost as persistent as Malaki.
There is no use in avoiding her.
I wipe my eyes and walk into the hallway.
Zoe perks up, but she stays on the floor, knowing I’ll find my way over to her.
Once I slide down beside her, she takes my hand in hers and squeezes.
It’s just like when we were younger. Just her and me in a quiet house, with fear as our shadow, too scared to speak, too fearful to think of the future.
I know the minute I rehash what just happened with Benedict, my worries will become her worries, and that’s not how it’s supposed to be.
I’m the older sister.
I take care of her, not the other way around.
But the longer I sit with Zoe, the heavier things become, until I can’t take it anymore.
“He’s put me in an impossible position,” my voice cracks.
“How so?” she whispers.
My bottom lip trembles, but my tears stay put. “He’ll destroy me in court.”
If he pulls a stunt like today in a courtroom, I’m done for.
“He’ll gain custody of her, and my entire life will be in shambles.” I sniff up a tear, refusing to let it fall. “I’m better off with him than without. At least I can be there to shield Charleigh.”
Zoe’s hand clamps onto mine tighter. “What? You can’t be serious!"
“I don’t have any other choice!” I exclaim. “If we go to court, he’ll do exactly what he did today, and who is going to take my word over his?”
The lies.
So many lies.
Each with some type of corrupted proof. All the judge really has to do is look at his upbringing and then mine. There really is no question about who had better examples of parents.
“You may be able to shield Charleigh for a little while, but what about you, Reese?” Zoe snatches her hand out of mine and aggressively pulls her hair into a bun on top of her head, like she’s about to enter the ring for a boxing match.
“Eventually, Charleigh will catch on and realize that her mother settled for a man who doesn’t deserve her.
She’ll grow up watching him treat you like shit.
She’ll hear how he talks down to you, and there will come a time where he’ll put his hands on you.
He’s come close before, and you know it’ll happen again.
” She shakes her head. “I won’t have it. ”
I bury my face in my hands as a sob threatens to claw out of my chest. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You get fucking angry,” Zoe seethes. “That’s what you do.”
I furiously wipe a tear away and drop my hands.
Zoe’s lips are pursed, her eyebrows furrowed. “You get angry, and then you get even.”
“How?” I cry. “I can’t afford a lawyer!”
“Malaki.”
I gape at her. “Malaki isn’t paying me that much, Zoe. I do a few house chores and cook some meals. I made him promise to keep me at minimum wage, because otherwise, he’d go overboard–”
Zoe rolls her eyes. “I don’t mean the stupid paycheck he’s giving you. You and I both know that he’d pay for a lawyer if you asked him to.”
My face pales.
“No.”
“Yes,” she argues. “You’ll figure out a way to pay him back.”
I shake my head, an argument threatening to come out of my mouth, but Zoe’s fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my eyes to her.
“Get angry, Reese. I know you have it in you. We share the same blood.”
“You’ve always been the angrier one,” I counter.
“That’s not true.” She shakes her head. “I’m just more impulsive than you.”
Somehow, I manage a laugh, but there’s next to no humor that comes with it.
“I’m not letting you do this alone,” Zoe says. “And if you won’t ask Malaki for the money, then I will.”
I exhale deeply, our eyes locking.
“I’m going to be making him lasagna for the rest of his life in order to pay him back.”
A loud laugh rips from her mouth, and I slap my hand over it to keep Charleigh from waking.
I shush her. “Shhh!”
We sit in silence, both listening to see if Charleigh wakes up. Zoe eventually slides her head against the wall to look at me.
“I’ll watch Charleigh. Go find Malaki and talk.”
An argument rests on the tip of my tongue, ready to go head to head with my sister.
But then my mouth closes.
Zoe’s hand squeezes mine. “He showed up today…for you. Fake fiancé, real fiancé, boyfriend, friend…whatever he is, he’s worth holding onto, Reese. Stop being so self-reliant.”
I give her a look, and she shakes her head, dismissing me.
“Go,” she urges.
I glance at Charleigh's door.
The thought of Benedict using her to get to me rears its ugly head, and I quickly climb to my feet with that anger Zoe told me to tap into.
She smiles cheekily. “There’s that Moreno blood.”
I shiver as I sit in one of the seats and watch the tail end of Malaki’s practice. The Blue Devils skate with speed as they work on some type of new play. One coach is on the ice, sporting a beanie, sweatshirt, and sweatpants, with a whistle hanging out of his mouth that he blows every so often.
I hardly watched their game last night, thanks to Benedict’s text. I’m a terrible fake fiancée for not even reaching out to Malaki afterward.
“Alright.” The whistle blows again, Malaki and a few others coming to a halt on the ice. “That’s it for tonight. Get some rest and be back at the arena tomorrow, three hours prior to game time. Losing on the road is never easy, but losing at home is even worse.”
“Especially during the playoffs,” someone says.
I nibble on my lower lip and watch everyone head for the locker room. Malaki ends up beside his goalie. They stop just before stepping off the ice, and suddenly, their attention is on me.
Emory smacks Malaki’s chest once and then leaves him be.
The chatter of Malaki’s teammates and coaches slowly fades, and my heart pounds.
We stare at each other for so long I shift in my seat awkwardly.
Malaki rests his helmet on the bench and vanishes out of sight.
I sit and wait with my lip still tucked beneath my teeth.
It only takes him a minute to appear in the aisle. He’s in his hockey pants and a black long-sleeve shirt, sans pads, with sweaty hair. His face is flushed from the vigorous skating he was just doing a few minutes ago, and when our eyes lock, my breath catches.
“Hey, Dimples.”