This time his voice wasn’t composed. The depth of it was fierce and shaky at the same time. “I love you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned forward so that I rested against him, the top of my head just beneath his chin. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” There was nothing shaky this time.

I breathed in his words and let them fill me. “I love you too.”

Like a robot, I walked by his side all the way up to Curtis’s floor. The receptionist led us from the waiting room to one of the meeting rooms. The wall was made of glass from floor to ceiling and, from the corridor, I couldn’t help seeing who was inside. Curtis and Trisha at either end of the table, the Lorettis on the side opposite the doorway. There was also a woman I’d never seen before next to them. She wore a power suit and sharp, square glasses.

Curtis came to open the door for us. Josh was the old-fashioned type, always stepping aside for me to enter first. This time he led the way, as if he knew we were being led to the firing squad and he wanted to be the first to take a bullet.

My stomach sank.

I gave myself a mental kick in the butt and followed close behind Josh. We shook hands with Curtis and Trisha. The others didn’t stand up. They acknowledged our presence only by staring at us. Andrea Loretti didn’t even do that. She kept her gaze down and wriggled her hands over the table instead. More than ever, she looked like a caged animal.

“Before we start, I’d like to thank Trisha Roberts for coming to our office on such short notice,” this came from Curtis, “and Joshua and Cassandra MacBride—my clients—for interrupting their stay in Kansas City and answering Mr. and Mrs. Loretti’s last minute request. I hope the Lorettis realize how unusual this meeting is.”

Curtis managed to deliver the welcome speech as if we were doing them a favor. It didn’t feel like that to me. At all.

Josh offered me a seat and I took my place next to him, opposite the Lorettis. Still no eye-to-eye contact from Andrea. Josh’s arm came to rest casually on the back of my seat. I had to resist snuggling against him for comfort.

“Should we start?” I was so grateful to Josh for taking the lead. “Given that you requested this meeting, I will ask you to cut to the chase and spare Mrs. Roberts’ and our time.”

The brunette with blood-red lipstick leaned over the table. She spoke to Trisha. “As you know, Vincent and Andrea Loretti were approved for adoption last November. They are a couple of outstanding, hard-working citizens who have been a constant presence in Lucas’s life since he lost his parents. A strong relationship has been formed between them and the child.”

I hated when people referred to Lucas as the ‘child.’ He wasn’t a child, he was our son. Our. Son. He was Lucas.

“Pardon me, Miss Meyer,” Trisha cut in, “I really appreciate the interest your clients have shown in Lucas, but Cassandra and Joshua have now reached the final stage of the adoption. I expect Lucas to go and live with them by the end of the month when the Sorensons leave the state.”

Go Trisha! Go!

The buttoned-up lawyer responded. “And yet, the child spent Christmas with my clients. As I understand it, there was a setback in the proceedings.”

Curtis started to rev his engine. “A couple of facts had to be verified by Social Services. Nothing unusual. We believe Mrs. Roberts and the case worker in D.C. are now satisfied… so is the judge.”

Meyer had kept her eyes set on Trisha. “We believe,” she repeated, “that there were some concerns about how transparent the MacBrides have been regarding their relationship. Mr. MacBride was engaged with another woman barely a week before the adoption started.” Josh’s fist curled tightly on the table. “And then there is the potentially more egregious matter of his divorce filing, merely a month before.”

Curtis took a curt tone. “Once again, all concerns have been assuaged.” He now addressed Trisha directly. “Mrs. Robert, my clients do not have to justify themselves or discuss their private life with people they barely know and—”

Trisha waved a hand as a peacemaking gesture. “Ms. Meyer, I don’t know what point you’re trying to make, but please make it quickly.”

Meyer gave a tight smile. “My clients are deeply concerned for Lucas. They believe the MacBrides have no intention of providing the stable family environment the child so desperately needs. Their newfound marital happiness is a mere front to facilitate the adoption process.”

Josh moved his arm from the back of my seat and he rested both forearms on the table. The power move attracted everyone’s attention.

“Get to the point now,” he said, “When you have, I’ll enlighten Mrs. Roberts about how your clients seriously compromised Lucas’s well-being during their unsupervised access to our son by discussing the adoption with him and trying to influence him.”

Meyer flinched but she went on anyway, “Before making such allegations, Mr. MacBride, we would like to share with Social Services and your lawyer some disturbing information.”

I tried to catch Andrea’s gaze. For one moment, I succeeded, but the connection didn’t last. She was doing her hand-wringing thing again. I nearly missed Meyer opening the folder in front of her, extracting several sheets of paper and handing them around the table. A stack of them landed between Josh and me.

My brain struggled to make sense of what lay before me.

“Are you spying on my wife?” Josh’s question hit coldly at Meyer.

“Hardly. These photos are in the public domain. They can be found on any search engine with ‘Cassie O’Malley’ as the keyword.”

I managed to stop my hands shaking and flick through the ‘evidence.’ It wasn’t just the article from the blog Josh had shown me, but many more of them and the same photos over and over again. I didn’t dare look at Josh.

As if she hadn’t done enough damage, Meyer spoke again, “We have reason to believe Mrs. MacBride has been involved with this… musician for the past six months. We can share with you a widely available video showing the two of them performing together in September when the MacBrides had already applied for adoption.”

“That’s just a song, a stupid song,” I cried out. “And these pictures are taken out of context. He has paparazzi following him everywhere. It’s L.A. for God’s—”

“—Cassie!” Josh interrupted. “Don’t.”

I turned sideways. He’d cocked his head forward, his jaw locked, a sure sign he was close to snap.

But I wasn’t done yet. There was only one person here who might hear me out. “Andrea, please, listen to me.” I extended my hand flat over the table. I so wanted to reach her. “You don’t want to become Lucas’s mom because of a lie.” I pointed at the photos. “The only truth is that we love him and would do anything to make him happy. Anything. You have to believe me.”

She ignored me, not even giving me the benefit of a word or a look. The only reaction I got was from her husband. “Leave my wife alone. She’s a good woman who’s always been devoted to her family.”

“Which family?” Josh’s question crashed between us. “Because from where I stand, your wife doesn’t have much of a track-record as a mother.”

“Please, stop. I beg you all. Stop fighting.” Trisha was waving again but her gesture was broader this time. She was watching me though with a silent ‘Is that true?’. I wanted to shout that I’d never been with another man than Josh. In my whole life. “This meeting is getting out of hand. Quite frankly, Ms. Meyer, I’m shocked by the lengths your clients are ready to go.”

“All we wanted was to draw your attention to the web of lies the MacBrides have skillfully weaved to portray themselves as a happy couple,” Meyer answered. “Because my clients care so much for the child, they want to provide him with a stable home. Mr. Loretti has a long-term position in a local company and Andrea Loretti is a stay-at-home wife. You can be assured she will not be touring the country year-in year-out dressed in a short denim skirt.”