She stretched forward to get a closer look at the picture and started to bite her lower lip. Her hands flew to the keyboard and I guessed she was scrolling up or down the screen. The blogger hadn’t kept much to himself: There were at least ten photos of my wife with Dupret.

I saw her mouth shaping into a ‘oh’ then a ‘ha’, then she bit her lip again.

“Do you believe any of this?” I didn’t miss the strain in her voice. Whether it was because she was fighting back tears or anger, I didn’t know.

“I don’t want to believe it.”

Fire flicked through her eyes. “Yes or no?”

Some of the snapshots flashed in front of my eyes once again. I swept them aside. I decided to trust my heart not my head. “No, I don’t.”

Relief spread over Cassie’s face. “Absolutely nothing happened with Shawn or… but I saw Sam there.”

“You mean the guy who proposed to you last summer and graciously offered to adopt my son? That Sam?”

“Yes, Sam Blackhawk. I had no idea he’d be there. It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Sure.”

Cassie slowly pushed the laptop back to my side of the table. “It’s a bit rich coming from you anyway. You spent the last couple of days with one of your exes. Anything to share?”

Lies and half-truths had cost us too much before. I’d never go down that route again. “Yes.” Cassie startled. “Megan made a pass on me.”

“And?” Her voice trembled and all I wanted then was to take her in my arms.

“I’d just seen those pictures of you and Dupret. It was the perfect set-up for a revenge fuck. But that was what I did in high school with Clarissa… and pretty much all the girls in our grade. I’m not going to make that same stupid mistake again.”

“Glad to hear it.” Her gaze escaped mine.

I had to straighten things up now. “Cass, I want you to be happy here in D.C. but I want you to know that I’m ready to compromise. I’m ambitious and I love my job, but I love you and Lucas more.”

I shifted the laptop sideways so that it didn’t stand between the two of us anymore. I extended my hand, palm upwards. She stared down at it, shut her eyes, opened them again and placed her hand in mine. Feeling her skin against mine sent a jolt of energy through my arm and my entire body.

“I’m happy here in D.C. It’s more my scene than L.A. so don’t worry about that.”

“I think we let ourselves down again though. Not being with Lucas for Christmas freaked you out. You panicked, but instead of sharing your fears, you cut yourself from me.” She gave a tiny nod. “And me? I tip-toed around the issue until… I went all badass on my dad and almost killed him.”

“If I hadn’t got Gran’s rifle, you wouldn’t have been pushed to do that.”

“I was trying to prove something to you.”

“What?”

“That I was your man, that you could just once let me take care of you.”

“I want you to. I’m ready to let go…”

“Hallelujah! Then let’s start now.”

Cassie stood and walked around the coffee table. She sat on my lap and snuggled against me. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer. I whispered to her ear, “You’re my girl, you know. Let me make you happy.”

Cassie

“That’s such a nice picture, Champ.” I hunched over Lucas’s shoulder to look at the drawing he’d been focusing on for the last half an hour.

“It’s our house in Wash—Wash—”

“Washington,” I helped him finish the word and brushed the brown curl away from his right eye. My heart squeezed in my chest because he looked so much like Josh.

Lucas nodded. “Yeah, there,” then he pointed at each of the three characters in the picture. “That’s me,” a little bluish shape with two distinctive arms and legs, “and that’s you and Josh.” My hair was messy and yellow, making me look like a member of one of those 80s rock bands. Next to me, Josh’s lookalike was more clean-cut—of course—with only a few streaks of black atop his round head.

A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall in the Sorensons’s living room and I felt a lump blocking my throat. The five-minute countdown had started. I’d have to leave Lucas behind. I’d see him tomorrow and again on Sunday, but this would be the last time we’d need to see each other in someone else’s house. His foster family was leaving for Oregon at the end of the month. The date had been fixed, the Christmas crisis was now behind us, and Sawyer Curtis was taking care of the last bits of paperwork.

We should be fine.

“It’s time, guys.”

Josh knelt down between Lucas and me. He kissed our boy’s temple, ruffled his hair and stood up. “We’ll watch a movie tomorrow and start thinking about what you want to do on Sunday.”

Lucas answered with a half-smile. The lump in my throat thickened. How could Josh move in and out of Lucas’s life and not shatter? It broke me into a thousand pieces each time.

“Maybe, we can all have some marshmallows tomorrow… with some really chocolatey chocolate?” He gave me a smile, but not a full one again. A sugary treat wasn’t going to seal the deal today. Six months of goodbyes weighed on us.

“Cassie.” Josh put his hands on my shoulders and helped me stand. I leaned back against him. I had to channel his strength to keep myself together. Lucas needed parents, not over-emotional teenagers who couldn’t keep it together. .

From the corner of my eye I saw Sharon Sorenson leaning against the doorframe that led to the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest: She wanted us on our way out and wasn’t making a mystery of it. She didn’t speak though and I was grateful of being spared the rough sound of her voice.

The tips of my fingers brushed against Lucas’s plump cheeks. “See you tomorrow, Champ.”

Josh had to drag me out of the house and back to the rental car. We’d walked down that driveway so many times, it was like replaying the same movie over and over. He switched on the engine and we drove away in silence. I peered through the car window. Outside the clouds were low and full of rain. The weather wasn’t going to lift my mood. I closed my eyes and focused on the soft humming of the car’s engine. I flew back to our apartment in D.C. and imagined life there once Lucas would be with us for good: him doing his homework on the dining room table, the friends he’d invite around, his next birthday party… I enjoyed the peace but my brain soon kicked back into gear. We should have made it back to the motel by now.

My eyes popped open. We were driving downtown. I straightened up on the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”

Josh’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Sawyer Curtis’s office.”

“Why?”

“He called me when you were with Lucas. He wants us to meet there… with Trisha.”

Josh had one of those composed voices that never let him down. He lost it sometimes —Jack MacBride’s bloody face sprang to mind — but his voice never betrayed him. Right now, even by Josh’s standards, it was too composed.

“What’s up?” I glued my eyes on his face to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

“I don’t know yet, but the Lorettis will be there. With their lawyers. Apparently, they initiated the meeting.”

Panic flowed through my veins. I’d hoped those two were out of the picture by now. “That can’t be good.” I swallowed the lump in my throat that refused to go. “Not good at all.”

“Let’s keep our heads screwed on straight. Okay?”

I gave a tight nod, but I couldn’t keep my breathing from ticking up a notch. I weaved my fingers together on my lap so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Josh covered my hands with one of his while the other one remained on the wheel. His stare fixed on the road ahead and I held on to the warmth of his skin. When he broke contact to shift up a gear it was like tumbling over a cliff.

Get a grip, O’Malley! I wasn’t a weakling. I knew how to fight. This was just another fight, but one I’d win. Josh parked the car and opened the door for me. He extended his hand and I reached for it eagerly. We stood together. He cradled my face and tilted it so that I couldn’t avoid meeting his gaze.