I slide a piece of paper across the table and see her eyes grow wide. “This is a list of licensed social workers who specialize in infant and newborn care. You choose and they can check on me anytime. My house will be more than suitable for shared custody.”
“So you are sticking with your stance? We will raise this child in a broken home?”
“It can’t be broken if it was never whole to start with.”
“This is unacceptable to me. A mother should not be away from her child. Ever.”
“I have to agree with you there.” I swallow my retort, knowing she’s trying to goad me. “So, I hope to work out a custody agreement amicably.”
“Ren! This is ridiculous! Why are you being this way? We are both single, professional adults. We should raise this child together.”
This is it…
Caldwell straightens in his chair, ready for anything.
“Sasha, you’re wrong. We are not both single. I’m planning to get married.”
The room goes still, the only sound her gasp. If heads could spin, hers would be twirling. Her face goes pale, her eyes bulge, and she stares at me in disbelief. Then she picks up the glass in front of her and hurls it across the room, shattering it.
“THE HELL YOU ARE!” She leaps up, her lawyer at her side. “That is bullshit!”
I sit back, moving my hand to my suit jacket pocket, and grip the ring box I’ve had for a week.
“You’re a commitmentphobe! The only reason we aren’t together right now is because you aren’t ready to settle down. I’ve accepted that, but I’ll be dam
ned if you marry another woman while I’m having your baby!”
I stay quiet, itching to tell her I’m not a commitmentphobe. She’s proven time and time again why I wouldn’t commit to her, but she can’t understand that. But none of that matters. The moment Bizzy laid her lips on mine almost four months ago, everything changed.
“Who the hell is she?!?” Sasha screams.
I remain silent.
Her lawyer finally speaks up, “Mr. Bennett, Miss Crane has a right to know who will be around her child.”
Sasha growls.
Caldwell is ready.
“Lizbeth Hastings.”
Sasha lets out a blood-curdling scream, causing me to jump in my seat.
“The cancer girl! No fucking way! She’s a social-climbing whore! I’ll never let her anywhere near my child!”
This time, the room goes still for another reason. Everyone stays quiet, but the ice running through my veins starts to roar in my head. No one talks about Bizzy that way. Caldwell reaches over, grabbing my shoulder and forcing me to stay seated.
“Miss Crane, Lizbeth Hastings is a Pediatric Nurse who cares for sick children, not to mention her extensive medical background. She’s passed every social services check to date and is trained to go into private homes to care for children. Her background is stellar, not even a parking ticket in the last three years.”
“I don’t care about her fucking background. Where’s the dignity? She’s had cancer! She doesn’t fit with us!” Sasha waves her hand back and forth between us.
All control snaps. “What the hell are you saying? My brother is a cancer survivor! What does ‘us’ mean?”
“Your brother overcame it, became a star quarterback for an NFL team, and made a name for himself. What did she do?”
“She also beat cancer—against the odds—and became a nurse to help others going through the disease. That’s what it is, Sasha, a disease! A terrible, horrible, terrifying disease, and we should be thankful there are people like her in the world. And before you say anything else, my brother Mathis chose pediatric medicine because of Bizzy and Nick! Jesus, what the fuck?”
My heart races in my chest, and I’m fighting the impulse to walk out and tell her to fuck herself.