Chapter 18
Thanksgiving at my parents’ house was loud in the way only a Morgan holiday could be, voices overlapping, dishes clinking, laughter spilling over itself. The Palmers were back, and Adam was with them for the first time in… God, years.
I was carrying a tray of glasses into the dining room when Adam caught sight of me. His grin spread slow and easy, the kind of smile he’d probably practiced in the mirror at sixteen.
“When did you grow up?” he asked, his eyes doing a quick sweep before landing back on mine. “Last time I saw you, shit... You didn't look like this.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good to see you too, Adam.”
I placed the tray down on the table, and Adam wrapped me in a hug. He pulled back from me slightly, giving me another once-over, and gave a low whistle. "How did little Morgan grow up to be fucking hot? We gotta lock her away somewhere."
"Language." Judy chirped, while from across the room I heard a low sound, half a cough, half a growl. Chase was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, and Brody’s jaw was tight enough to crack a tooth. Adam noticed too. The smirk stayed, but he stepped away.
The rest of the day went by without a hitch, turkey, pie, the quiet undercurrent of family watching over family. It was only when we were stacking dessert plates in the kitchen that Clara pulled me aside.
Her eyes looked tired, even behind her smile. “Cass… could you do the exchange with Mason and Jackson tomorrow?”
I frowned. “Why? What’s going on?”
She hesitated. “He’s refusing the divorce. Pushing for mediation. I just… I don’t have it in me to deal with him right now.”
I nodded slowly. “Alright. I can do that.”
“I already called and told his assistant about the change in drop-off time,” she added, her voice turning sharp. “She was… a sarcastic little bitch. Goading me. I can’t...” Clara broke off with a shake of her head. “I just can’t deal with that shit anymore.”
The next afternoon, I pulled into the drop-off lot ten minutes early. Jackson sat in the seat behind me, legs swinging, tapping away on his handheld game.
And we waited.
And waited.
No Mason.
I sent him a quick message: Here for the exchange.
The reply came fast: This isn’t the time we agreed to. Why am I talking to you about this?
Me: Clara called and talked to your mistress, told her the time and place.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Finally: On my way.
We waited. Jackson chatted about his game until Mason’s car pulled in. That’s when I saw her, sitting in the passenger seat, hair perfect, eyes flicking over me like I was something to scrape off her shoe.
I sent Clara a text: She’s here.
Her reply was immediate. Don’t let Jackson near her. Please Cassidy. Bring him home.
I unbuckled, leaning toward Jackson. “Stay in the car, okay? I need to talk to your dad.”
Mason got out at the same time I did. I didn’t even bother with hello.
“Is that her?” I asked, jerking my chin toward the woman in his car.
“Is that who…?” He frowned.
“You know the fuck who, Mason. Is that who you’re throwing your marriage away for?”
His expression hardened. “She’s only my assistant.”
“Right. The same ‘assistant’ who gave Clara attitude and mocked her when she called about the time change?”
He shifted. “I didn’t get that message.”
“Wonder why that is, Asshole. Maybe your side piece doesn’t want you getting messages from your soon-to-be ex-wife.”
“I don't have the energy to deal with you today, Cassidy. Why are you even here? Where’s Clara?” he shot back.
I stepped closer, keeping my voice low and even. “Clara didn’t want to see you. She spoke with your little passenger princess there, got nothing but a fucking headache for her trouble. And now, here you are, bringing her to a custody exchange.”
“I didn’t know...”
“Cut it.” My phone buzzed with another text from Clara, and I looked down quickly, scanning the message before I continued.
“You brought her here, Mason. I’ll be taking Jackson back with me.
Clara’s amending the divorce and custody agreement, and she’s got all the evidence she needs: your affair, your absence, and now this stunt. ”
His mouth opened, but I cut him off again. “Get your shit together. Clara was clear. And you? You’re being crystal clear in choosing the girl in your car over your wife and son.”
“I didn’t know, we were working when...”
“You were working together in your car over the holiday?” I asked, arching a brow.
“I didn’t want to be home alone, so I went to work and...”
“And of course she came in to ‘help,’” I finished for him. "But why is she in your car now, Mason?"
He looked confused for a minute, then looked back at his car, then back at me, "She asked for a ride home, said she was having car troubles."
I laughed at him, "Oh my fucking god, Mason, you are either really fucking stupid or you just don't care. She knew you were swapping with Clara and made sure she would be in the car with you when it happened. Does she have access to your email? To the divorce documents and the custody agreement?"
He didn't answer, but the look on his face told me everything I needed to know.
Something dawned on me then: I couldn’t save myself from Andrew, but in this moment, I could fight for Clara.
I looked behind me at Jackson, still absorbed in his game, blissfully unaware. Then back to Mason. I nodded in the direction of his car, “Is she worth it? Worth losing everything over?”
He stood frozen like he couldn't respond.
“You broke her, Mason. She is questioning herself... your whole relationship. She doesn’t think you wanted to marry her, that you only did because she got pregnant.
” I said quietly. “She doesn’t think you love her.
You changed long before you started up with whatever the hell she is, Mason.
You stopped being a good husband and a good father. ”
He looked gutted, like he was fighting back tears, but I didn’t let it soften me. “Stop hurting her. Just sign the divorce and walk away," I didn't care, I pointed right at the bitch smirking at me, "I hope she’s worth losing your supposed world over.”
I turned and got back in my car.
Jackson glanced up. “What's going on, Aunt Cass?”
“Your dad has other things he needs to take care of, so you are going to come back home with me,” I said, starting the engine.
Before we pulled away, I texted Clara: On my way back with him.
My hands were steady on the wheel, but inside, the adrenaline was still burning.