“Hm. Weird. So, what happened that makes you think she’s dealt with?”
“She told me she’d take me to court for custody unless I paid her five hundred grand. Then she’d sign over her rights to Andi.”
Isabelle’s face turns beet red in seconds. “You’re shitting me?”
I shake my head. “Nope. When I explained to her that I didn’t have that kind of money sitting around, she suggested I sell some of my land to you.”
“I don’t have that kind of money either. But, for Andi… if I did, I’d give it to you.”
I kiss her lips. “I know you would. But it’s no matter. In the end, she sold her kid for fifteen thousand.”
Isabelle’s face crumples. “For fifteen thousand dollars?”
“Yep. I meet with my lawyer, Shawn, on Monday. Ivy wants to be gone by Friday.”
Isabelle is quiet. “How could she do that? Just let her go. Andi’s such an amazing kid.”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you tell Andi?”
“Not yet. I’m going to talk to her about Ivy. I’m not telling her about the money or the lawyer.”
“Of course not.”
“I do want to ask her if she wants to have a relationship with her birth mother.”
“That’s fair. But it doesn’t sound like Ivy wants to have a relationship with her daughter. Asking her might end up being painful.”
“I thought of that too. But, I think, with your help, maybe we can talk to her in a way that she’ll understand.”
“Don’t you think Ivy will be back for more money at some point?”
I shrug because I really don’t know the answer to that. “I’m putting it in the paperwork that there’ll be no more money, but who knows.”
Isabelle leans into me. “I hate to say this, but I won’t be sorry to see her gone, but that seems so selfish. Andi deserves better than that.”
“She does.” He kisses my cheek. “She has you now.”
“She’d have me no matter what, but thank you. I have her too.”
I lean down and kiss Nash back. “So, when are we gettin’ hitched?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Too soon. I don’t need a fancy wedding, but I want my dad to walk me down the aisle. I also want Isaac and Kelly to be there, so it’ll take planning to know when they’ll be able to make it back.”
“Six months?” I ask, hoping she’ll agree to that.
She does. “Six months is doable.”
“Six months.” I kiss her lips, then her cheek and down her neck. “Now, my sweet fiancée, let’s seal the deal.”
“You mean have sex?” I’m playing dumb.
“I mean make love. On the night we are officially and truly engaged, I want to make love to you.”
“What’s the difference?” I really want to know.
