I bit my lip and typed, Not yet.
When?
Tonight. After his daughter goes to bed.
Shit. There it was, in black and white.
There was a short pause and then Max wrote back, “Don’t ever regret being honest. Period.” –Taylor Swift
I laughed, and it was like a sigh of relief.
You can’t argue with T-Swift, I typed.
No you cannot. Max wrote back. Call me any time if you need to.
I smiled at my friend, who was going to move to Seattle any minute and leave me alone. I will. <3 you
Love you, D.
I held the phone to my chest. It wasn’t a hug, but it was the next best thing.
At eleven-thirty, dressed in soft shorts and a white T-shirt, I headed down to Sawyer’s. I was going to bring some food for him and Livvie, but changed my mind. I wanted no pretense; there was no other reason for me being there than to tell him the truth.
My pulse was jittery as I tapped lightly on his door. It opened after an agonizing thirty seconds in which I almost ran away. Twice.
Sawyer was there in what I called his jammies—V-necked T-shirt and plaid flannel pants—though it didn’t look as if he’d done any sleeping in them. Dark circles ringed his eyes that were bloodshot. For a split second, the dark pools of them lit up to see me, then faded again.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. Is this a bad time?”
“You can come in.” He shoved the door open and then turned his back to walk inside. “You want anything? Something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” I shut the door behind me. “I came here to tell you what I should have told you the other night.” I heaved a calming breath and started with the easy part. “I’m not seeing anyone else, I promise. Max is only a friend.”
“Okay,” he said. Sawyer moved slo
wly to his desk. He slumped in the chair, and covered his eyes with his hand.
Is he this torn up about our failed date?
A selfish part of me would like to think he cared that much about me, but no, it had to be something big, like he failed a final or that judge picked someone else for the clerkship he needed. It suddenly seemed horribly out of place to talk about myself when he was so obviously upset.
Not just upset. Devastated.
My fear for myself reshaped itself into fear for him.
“Sawyer, are you okay?” I moved to stand on the other side of his desk. “What happened?”
Sawyer dropped his hand from his eyes like it was too heavy, then reached over his desk to take a folded piece of paper. He tossed it closer to my side of the desk and slumped back in his chair.
I snatched it up and read it, my heart clanging harder with every word, then stared at him, incredulous.
“A hearing? For custody of Livvie?” The paper trembled like a leaf in my hands. “Who…who are these people?”
“Olivia’s grandparents.” Each sentence came out dull and staccato. “They were here with their lawyer. They have money. Lots of it. They met Olivia and they want custody.”
I let the notice of the hearing fall back to the desk. “But they can’t do that,” I said. “You’re her father. They can’t just…take her from you.”