Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Summer
I sat stiffly in the leather chair of the adoption agency’s legal office, my hands gripping the armrests like I was about to be launched into outer space.
Across from me, Malcolm lounged effortlessly, looking completely at ease, like this was just another business deal he was closing.
Meanwhile, I was on the verge of an existential crisis.
I had spent years dealing with bureaucratic paperwork, fighting for kids in the system, but this?
This was different. This wasn’t just any case—this was Jake.
And I wasn’t just fighting as a social worker.
I was sitting here as his future parent.
I still wasn’t sure how Malcolm had ended up right here beside me, signing the same paperwork, but the fact that he was doing this with me made my heart do weird, terrifying things.
“Alright,” the lawyer, a middle-aged man named Mr. Carter, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, looking down at the paperwork in front of him. “Before we proceed, I just need to confirm—are you two applying as a married couple or as co-guardians?”
I immediately choked on air.
Malcolm, the insufferable man that he was, just smirked. “Not yet.”
I turned to glare at him. “Oh my god, Malcolm.”
He gave me a lazy grin, completely unbothered by my imminent meltdown. “What? You heard the man. He said ‘or,’ which means we have options.”
“We are applying as co-guardians,” I said firmly, shooting the lawyer an apologetic look. “Just co-guardians. Nothing else. Ever.”
Malcolm chuckled under his breath, leaning back in his chair, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching me with that infuriating amusement like he could see right through me.
Mr. Carter scribbled something on his form. “Noted.”
I tried to refocus, but Malcolm’s ridiculous grin made it impossible.
“This is serious, Malcolm,” I hissed, nudging his leg under the table. “Stop messing around.”
“Oh, I am serious, Summer,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Dead serious.”
I was going to lose my mind.
Before I could argue, Mr. Carter continued, flipping through more pages. “We’ll also need to discuss family dynamics. How do you two plan on handling discipline? Who will take on more of a parental authority role?”
I scoffed, finally on solid ground. “Oh, that’s easy. Me, obviously.”
From across the room, Jake—who had been sitting in the waiting area, pretending not to listen—grinned and shouted, “Nope! Malcolm’s scarier!”
Malcolm’s smirk spread like wildfire as he turned to me. “See? I’m the cool parent.”
I gaped at Jake, utterly betrayed. “Excuse me?! I do everything for you!”
Jake just shrugged shamelessly. “Yeah, but you nag a lot.”
Malcolm outright laughed, looking way too pleased with himself. “Kid’s got a point.”
I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temples, trying to mentally prepare myself for a lifetime of this absolute nonsense.
“Okay,” I huffed, glaring at both of them. “So I’m the responsible one, and you’re what? The fun dad?”
Malcolm shrugged, completely unbothered. “If the shoe fits.”
Mr. Carter, to his credit, looked mildly amused as he continued writing. “Noted. Moving on.”
We spent the next hour answering questions, signing paperwork, going through the extensive process of proving we were capable, responsible adults who could raise a child together. I tried to focus on the serious parts, I really did, but Malcolm made it damn near impossible.
Every time the lawyer asked something remotely formal, Malcolm had to add commentary.
When asked about household responsibilities, I said, “I’ll be handling most of the day-to-day scheduling.”
Malcolm smirked. “And I’ll be handling all the important responsibilities. Like ice cream runs and teaching Jake how to win arguments.”
I jabbed his side with my elbow. “That is not a responsibility.”
“When done correctly, it is.”
When asked about our ability to work as a team, I said, “We work well together when it comes to serious matters.”
Malcolm grinned. “And we also bicker like an old married couple, but don’t worry, it’s part of our process.”
When I nearly kicked him under the table, Mr. Carter simply muttered, “Noted.”
Somewhere between the teasing, the banter, and Malcolm’s annoying confidence, something shifted.
I watched the way Malcolm handled everything so easily, how he answered the serious questions with unshakable certainty, how he talked about Jake like he was already his.
Somewhere between the jokes, I realized—he’s actually in this. Fully.
And that? That was terrifying.
Because this wasn’t just Malcolm helping me. This was Malcolm choosing to be here.
I stared at him, really stared, and for the first time in a long time, I saw not just the arrogant billionaire, not just the boy I knew years ago—but the man in front of me.
A man who wasn’t going anywhere.
I looked away quickly, pretending like I wasn’t having a silent breakdown.
By the time the paperwork was done, Jake had started nodding off in his seat, his little head bobbing forward before he snapped back up. Malcolm, without a second thought, reached over, pulled him onto his lap, and let the kid curl up against his chest.
I froze.
Jake didn’t even hesitate. He just snuggled into Malcolm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And Malcolm? He held him like he’d been doing it forever.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Because this wasn’t just a legal process anymore.
This was us.
Becoming a family.