Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“—Richard Castellano brings in character witnesses who say Gabriel works too much and I’m unqualified, and we got married too fast and—”
“Cate.”
“—what if they find out about the skateboard incident? What if they twist it to make me look negligent? What if they say I’m a danger to children and—”
“CATE.”
I stopped, breathing hard.
Fitz was looking at me with a mixture of amusement and concern. “You need to stop googling worst-case scenarios at 3 AM.”
“How did you—”
“Because I know an anxiety spiral when I see one. And yours is particularly creative.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Listen to me. Gabriel is one of the best fathers I know. He’s dedicated, loving, and present. Even with his crazy schedule, he makes time for Megan. That’s going to count for something.”
“But—”
“And Tonya abandoned her. For three years. That’s not a mistake. That’s a choice. A judge isn’t going to ignore that.”
“Richard Castellano might make them ignore it.”
“Then Anthony Gallagher will make them remember it.” Fitz leaned back against the bench. “Gabriel told me about him. Biker lawyer from New York, never lost a custody case. That’s who you want in your corner.”
“He was kind of intense.”
“Good. You need intense. Richard Castellano is a shark? Fine. Anthony Gallagher is a bigger shark. With a motorcycle.”
Despite everything, I felt my mouth twitch. “That’s a weird mental image.”
“Shark on a motorcycle. Coming to a courtroom near you.”
I laughed. A slightly hysterical sound, but still a laugh.
“There we go.” Fitz smiled. “See? It’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Gabriel. And I know he’s not going to let anyone take Megan away. Especially not Tonya.” He paused. “And I know he’s not going to let anyone hurt you, either.”
Something in my chest squeezed. “We barely know each other.”
“Cate. The man married you.”
“For the custody case.”
“Is that really why?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Was it?
Is that really the only reason?
Or is it because when he looks at me, I feel like I’m the only person in the room?
Because when he touches me, everything else disappears?
Because when he said ‘stay,’ I knew I’d never be able to leave?
“It’s complicated,” I said finally.
“The best things usually are.” Fitz stood, stretching. “I should finish my run before my muscles seize up. But, Cate?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop spiraling. You’re going to be fine. All three of you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen the way Gabriel looks at you.” He grinned. “And that’s not a man who’s faking anything.”
He jogged off before I could respond, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my racing heart, and the growing realization that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as fake as I’d been telling myself.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about what happens after the custody case.
“Cate! Come push me!”
I looked up. Megan was back on the swings, waving at me.
“Coming!”
I stood, brushing off my jeans, and started toward her.
That’s when I saw him.
A man. Standing near the tree line at the edge of the park. Holding a camera.
Not a phone, but an actual camera. With a long lens.
Pointed directly at us.
I froze.
That’s not... He’s not...
The man adjusted the camera, and I saw the lens shift. Focusing.
On me.
On Megan.
On the bench where Fitz and I had been sitting.
Oh God.
Oh God, they’re watching us. Tonya and Richard are having us surveilled.
My hands started shaking.
How long has he been there? What did he see? Me and Fitz sitting close, talking, laughing—it could look like—they could twist it to look like— “Cate?” Megan’s voice was uncertain. “Are you okay?”
I forced myself to move. To walk to the swings. To put my hands on the chains and push.
“I’m fine, sweetie.”
Don’t look at the camera.
Don’t let him know you’ve seen him.
Just act normal.
Act like everything is fine.
But my hands were shaking so badly I could barely grip the chains.
What if they use this against us? What if they show the judge photos of me with Fitz? Gabriel’s colleague, his friend, and claim I’m having an affair? What if they say I’m neglecting Megan? That I was too busy flirting to watch her properly?
I glanced back at the tree line.
The man was still there.
Still taking pictures.
I need to tell Gabriel.
My phone was in my pocket. I pulled it out with shaking hands, trying to keep pushing Megan with the other.
This is bad.
This is really, really bad.
I typed out a text to Gabriel.
Me: Someone’s taking pictures of us at the park. Man with a camera near the trees. I think it’s surveillance.
The response came immediately.
Gabriel: Are you safe?
Me: Yes. But he’s been here a while. Might have photos of me with Fitz.
Gabriel: Stay where you are. I’m coming.
Me: Gabriel, you’re at work.
Gabriel: I’m coming. Twenty minutes.
I looked back at the tree line.
The man was gone.
Just... gone.
Like he’d never been there at all.
Did I imagine it?
Am I being paranoid?
No.
No, he was real.
The camera was real.
This is real.
“Cate?” Megan had stopped swinging and was looking at me with worried eyes. “You look scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I lied. “Just... thinking.”
“About what?”
About how everything we do is being watched. About how every moment is being documented and catalogued and prepared to be used against us in court. About how I might have just handed Richard Castellano exactly what he needs to destroy Gabriel’s case.
“Nothing important,” I said, forcing a smile. “Want to go on the slide?”
She nodded, but she was still watching me with those too-perceptive eyes.
She knows something’s wrong.
Kids always know.
We walked to the slide, and I helped her up the ladder, watching as she slid down, but my mind was racing.
They’re watching us. Everything we do, everywhere we go—they’re watching. Building a case. Gathering evidence.
Waiting for us to slip up.
And I’d just given them ammunition.
Me and Fitz, sitting close on a bench. Talking. Laughing. While Megan played.
It could be innocent.
It was innocent. But in the hands of a lawyer like Richard Castellano? It could be twisted into something else entirely.
This is my fault.
I should have been more careful. I should have— “Cate!” Megan was at the bottom of the slide, waving. “Again!”
“Okay, sweetie. Again.”
But my hands were still shaking, and I couldn’t stop looking at the tree line, wondering if the man with the camera was still there. Still watching. Still waiting for us to make a mistake.
We’re not going to lose.
We can’t lose.
Because losing means losing Megan.
And I can’t. I won’t—My phone buzzed.
Gabriel: On my way. Don’t worry.
But I was worrying.
I was spiraling because this wasn’t just about a custody case anymore.
This was about our lives being dissected and examined and judged.
This was about every moment being weaponized.
This was about the very real possibility that everything we’d built, this fragile, complicated, beautiful thing, could be torn apart by people who didn’t care about Megan or Gabriel or me.
People who only cared about winning.
And I had no idea how to fight that.
But I’m going to try.
For Megan.
For Gabriel.
For us.
Even if I had to fake being brave until I figured out how to actually be brave. Even if every moment felt like walking through a minefield. Even if I was terrified of what came next.
“Cate?” Megan was tugging on my hand. “Can we get ice cream?”
I looked down at her, at this little girl who’d somehow become my whole world in just a few weeks, and felt something fierce and protective rise in my chest.
“Yeah, sweetie. We can get ice cream.”
And I’m going to make sure no one takes you away.
No matter what it costs.