“Me too. I’m so, so sorry this is happening.” He says. “And to put a cherry on top of all of this, we have that meeting tomorrow with the family lawyer about Jessica’s newest custody shenanigans.”
“It’s OK, Logan. It sucks but we can do this. Just get home to me. I want you in my bed when I wake up, OK? Thank god it’s the weekend.”
“OK, beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The next morning the doorbell rings, startling us both. Logan glances at me, then at his watch. "Damn. We overslept. That's Patricia."
My stomach drops. I’m so disoriented. "The lawyer is here already?"
"She has the formal complaint from Jessica's attorney." His expression softens at my obvious confusion.
While I throw on leggings and a hoodie, Logan starts downstairs to open the door. As I’m on my way down the stairs, I see Patricia Winters and a younger woman I don't recognize, both carrying leather briefcases and wearing expressions that make my insides tense.
"Hi, Logan. Hi, Reese. This is Mara, one of my paralegals," Patricia says, extending her hand. Her grip is firm, professional. "I'm sorry we're meeting again under these circumstances."
We move to the dining table, clearing away my work station to make room for the expanding universe of legal paperwork. I can smell the coffee Logan started brewing while I try to look like I'm not falling apart inside.
"Jessica's attorney filed these papers after the pictures went public," Patricia begins, sliding a document across the table. "As expected, she's requesting a modification to the current custody arrangement, but there are some new elements."
I scan the legal language, catching phrases that make my blood run cold. "Unfit influence" jumps out at me, followed by "concerns regarding child's confusion about parental roles."
"What does this mean, exactly?" I ask. I can feel my eye involuntarily twitching. I touch it to see if I can make it stop.
"Jessica is claiming that your relationship with Tyler is inappropriate and potentially harmful," Patricia explains. "She's requesting that during Logan's parenting time, your contact with Tyler be limited to public settings only—no overnight stays for you when Tyler is present, no participation in parental activities like bedtime routines, doctors' appointments, or school functions."
Logan, returning with four mugs of coffee, nearly drops the tray. "That's fucking ridiculous."
"There’s more," Mara says, her voice surprisingly gentle as she points to another section of the document. "She's requesting temporary emergency orders until the court makes a final decision."
"Emergency orders?" I repeat, my fingers going numb around my warm coffee mug. “What does that mean?”
"She's arguing that continued exposure to your relationship is causing immediate emotional harm to Tyler," Patriciaexplains. "If granted, these temporary orders would go into effect immediately if the magistrate agrees."
Logan sits heavily beside me, his knee pressing against mine under the table. "Can she do this?"
"She can try." Patricia sips her coffee, grimacing slightly at its strength. "But I think we have good grounds to fight it. The 'evidence' she's presenting is thin—primarily Tyler's use of the term 'bonus mommy' and some anecdotal claims that he's confused about your role."
"We've never encouraged that term," I say quickly. "Like I told you, he came up with it on his own."
"I believe you," Patricia assures me. "And we'll make that clear in our response. But we need to be prepared for Jessica to paint this in the worst possible light."
Logan's hand finds mine under the table, squeezing hard. "So what do we do?"
Patricia and Mara exchange glances. "We have a few options," Patricia begins. "We can fight this head-on, presenting evidence of how positive Reese's presence has been in Tyler's life. We can request a psychological evaluation to demonstrate that Tyler isn't experiencing confusion or distress. Or we can try to negotiate—perhaps agree to some minor restrictions to avoid a prolonged court battle."
"I'm not compromising on this," Logan says immediately, his voice hard. "She doesn't get to dictate who's in my life or Tyler's life."
"Logan," I say quietly, my first word in several minutes. Three pairs of eyes turn to me. "Maybe we should consider what's best for Tyler right now. Not just what we want."
His eyes flash. "What's best for Tyler is stability. People who love him. That includes you."
"I know, but—" I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "Fighting this aggressively might just escalate things. Make it uglier. More public. I don’t want that if we can avoid it."
Patricia nods approvingly. "There's wisdom in that approach. Courts generally respond better to parents who demonstrate they can put their child's needs above their own emotions."
"So we just roll over? Let her win?" Logan's frustration is palpable.
