Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Deacon
Wednesday night feels like the weekend to me. I get to go home to my daughter. I get to do dad stuff—chat about our day over dinner, read bedtime stories, sign homework books. It’s a thousand times better than any business deal I could ever do.
I put my key in the lock and open the door. Willow is sitting cross-legged in the hallway, waiting for me.
“Hey, princess,” I say, expecting her to jump up and into my arms. That’s what she normally does when I come in.
But she doesn’t. She uncrosses her legs and stands up. “Hi, Daddy,” she says.
“Oh dear, why so glum?”
She gazes up at me and says, “What does glum mean, Daddy?”
“Sad,” I reply, scooping her up and kicking the door shut.
“Mommy’s getting married,” she says.
My heart tumbles to the floor like discarded rubbish. Gabby did say she was going to tell Willow about her engagement to Ray this week.
“She told me,” I say, carrying Willow into the kitchen.
She puts her palm against my cheek. “Are you sad, Daddy?”
I smile and mouth hi at Willow’s nanny, Lucia, who is busy preparing Willow’s dinner.
I slide Willow onto the bench and sit down beside her. Within five seconds, Lucia has a glass of water in front of each of us.
“Thank you,” Willow and I both say at the same time.
“I’m not sad about your mommy getting married,” I say. “Are you sad?”
She scrunches up her face. “I want you to be my daddy. I don’t want Ray to be my daddy.”
It’s like a thousand tiny fists are squeezing my heart. I pull her into a hug.
I need to speak to Gabby. I have to grasp the nettle when it comes to Gabby’s request to end our nesting arrangement.
None of this is going away. Gabby has been messaging me about it every other day.
It’s like she’s scheduled the texts in advance.
She doesn’t care if I respond or not. Most of the time I don’t bother, but when I do, I just try to buy time.
I tell her that I’ll think about it or that I’m busy at the moment.
But she’s relentless. I can tell she’s not going to give up on this.
And maybe this could be a good thing for Willow.
The way Aurora described her safety as constricting has made me think about things a little bit differently.
More than anything, I want Willow to be happy.
I need to be able to guide Willow through this change, not stand in the way of something that might be good for her.
Willow needs to know what change Gabby’s marriage will bring. She deserves that.
“I promise you, Willow, that I’m still going to be your daddy.
Nothing’s going to change that.” I want to reassure her that Gabby getting married won’t change anything, but that’s a lie.
It’s going to change everything about Willow’s life, right down to where she wakes up in the morning and which toys she gets to play with.
But seeing Willow like this, makes me think about what Aurora said.
About how safe isn’t always the best option.
Even though the idea of Willow being a part of a happy family makes me seethe with jealousy, maybe that would be good for her.
Like Aurora said, maybe this change is good.
“But Mommy’s getting married. Ray will be my daddy.”
“No one’s ever going to be your daddy except me. Ray will be an extra person in your family. Mommy getting married means you get more family. No one leaves.”
She looks up at me, her wide brown eyes just like her mother’s. “Will I still get to see you the same amount?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. Over my dead body will Gabby change that. I will fight to the death. “I promise you.”
Lucia puts Willow’s dinner in front of her, and Willow picks up her fork. She blinks…long blinks, like she’s trying to let everything settle in her brain.
“And what about you?” Willow asks. “If Mommy is getting married, does that mean you’ll be lonely?”
“No, princess,” I say. “How can I be lonely when I have you?”
I think about Aurora. The last few days have flown because they’ve all been about her. Or work. Sunday was…incredible. Our connection is stronger than I’ve ever experienced before. I can’t get enough of her.
“But you don’t have a person to be married to like Mommy has Ray. What about when you don’t live with me. Are you lonely?”
“No, darling. Are you lonely when you’re at school?”
She shrugs and then says, “Sometimes I miss you.”
“Sometimes I miss you too. But I do lots of work and sometimes I see my friends.”
“What friends?”
“Lots of different friends.”
Aurora.
Aurora.
Aurora.
I shake my head, trying to get a break from the unrelenting thoughts of her.
“I don’t want you to be lonely, Daddy.”
I lean over and kiss the top of her head. “I don’t get lonely. Don’t you worry about Daddy.”
“Where do you live when you don’t live here? Mommy lives with Ray. They live in a house two streets away.”
“I stay in a hotel,” I say.
“Like when we go on holiday?” she asks, her eyes brightening.
“Exactly,” I say.
“So you go on holiday without me?”
I laugh. “I would never! I just sleep there. In the day, I go to work. And at night, I sleep in the hotel.”
Willow looks confused as she chews on her chicken. She swallows and then says, “You should have a house, like Mommy and Ray.”
“I’m fine. This is my home.”
“This is Mommy’s home too. She has two homes.”
This conversation is making me itch. I can’t help but think that Gabby is talking to her about living in different places and how awesome it is. She’s softening the ground because she wants Willow to be living across two homes.
I’m furious that she’s doing this before we’ve come to an agreement. And I don’t want to come to an agreement. I want things to stay as they are. I think.
Aurora might be right. Willow might be okay with two homes. But what if she isn’t?
My back is against the wall. If I don’t agree, Gabby’s going to force the matter. She’ll take me to court if she doesn’t get what she wants. My lawyers have always told me that the court is almost certain to agree to a traditional custody arrangement if either of us changed our minds.
I’m in a no-win situation.
“You want Daddy to have a place when you’re not with him?” I ask her.
She nods her head vigorously, like I’ve asked her if she wants to watch a movie before bed—which she always asks for and is always told no.
“Maybe I should think about that,” I say. Realistically, if I agree to a new arrangement with Gabby, I’d want to keep this house, so I’m not about to go house hunting. I’d want Willow to have as little change as possible.
“Yes, please. And can I have a room there?” she asks.
I can’t help but wonder whether Gabby has told her she’s going to have a room at her place with Ray.
“Of course,” I say.
“A room with pink stripes on the walls.”
“That sounds phenomenal. Can I have that in my bedroom as well?”
“I think you should have a different color to me, Daddy. Purple because your favorite color is purple.”
I press another kiss to her head. “Because it’s the color of Bear Bear.”
She nods again. “Purple stripes,” she says. “And I’ll have pink stripes.”
She can’t possibly know what she’s saying, and I’m glad Gabby’s not here to hear her. She’d take it as evidence that Willow’s going to be fine schlepping between two homes. That’s not for Willow to decide. But the fact is, the walls are closing in and I’m going to have to make a deal with Gabby.
It’s going to be the first deal I’ve ever done where I come off worse than the other side. But I don’t have a choice. We’ve managed co-parenting without an issue so far. There’s no point in dying on this hill when I know all that would happen is Gabby would win in the end.
If I agree now, I’ll just make sure I keep the house. That way, I get to manage Willow’s transition better by keeping everything here the same.
As if she’s in my brain, my phone buzzes. It’s Gabby, telling me she wants to talk about things this week.
“It’s your mommy,” I say. “I’m just going to message her back.”
I take a deep breath and type out a text saying I’ll agree to Willow going to her house on the condition that we all go to family counseling together and I stay in the townhouse.
I get a message back immediately. She tells me that I’m overreacting and that Willow doesn’t need counseling. And she says that me keeping the townhouse isn’t fair because Willow will feel more comfortable with me.
I text her back and tell her that it’s not her feelings she needs to be worried about and that I’ll call her later to tell her that Willow’s been upset. We both need to keep Willow at the center of our decisions.