The thought slammed into me with sickening clarity.
This was happening because of me, because I’d pushed my way into their lives, because I couldn’t just be satisfied with casual dating, because I had to fall in love and want more and need to be part of their family.
If I’d stayed away, if I’d never shown up at Theo’s door with Chinese food and Disney movies and declarations of love, none of this would be happening. Theo and Debbie would have had their quiet adoption ceremony this morning. They’d be celebrating right now instead of fighting for their lives.
I was a complication.
I was the “inappropriate influence” the aunt was talking about.
I was the reason some stranger thought she could waltz in and destroy everything Theo had built.
What kind of selfish asshole was I?
What kind of man inserted himself into a father-daughter relationship and then put them at risk?
I should have known this could happen.
I should have been smarter, more careful, should have kept my distance until after the adoption was final.
But no, I had to have it all. I had to have the family and the love and the happily ever after, and now Debbie might pay the price for my selfishness.
My mind went completely blank.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Today was supposed to be a celebration, a formality, the legal stamp on something that was already true. It was supposed to be the day Theo could finally stop worrying, could finally breathe easy knowing that no one could ever question his right to be Debbie’s father.
Instead, someone was using me—us—as a weapon.
“Jer? Are you there? Please say something. I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose her. I can’t—”
His voice broke, dissolving into something that sounded dangerously close to panic, and I realized he was waiting for me to say something wise or comforting or helpful. He needed me to be strong, to have answers, to know what to do.
But I had nothing.
I’d never been the person someone leaned on during a crisis. I was the guy you called to help move furniture or fix a leaky faucet or reach something on a high shelf.
I wasn’t the person you turned to when your world was falling apart.
What did I know about legal battles or custody fights or protecting the people you loved from systems designed to tear families apart?
What did I know about anything that really mattered?
“I’m here,” I managed, though my voice sounded foreign to my own ears. “I’m here, Theo.”
“Sarah says we have a good case, that Linda has no standing, that she can’t just show up after four years and make demands; but Jer, what if she’s wrong? What if they decide that Debbie would be better off with a ‘traditional’ family? What if—”
“Stop.” The word came out sharper than I intended, and I heard his sharp intake of breath through the phone. I forced myself to lower my voice, to find some semblance of calm even though my heart was hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. “Stop spiraling. You’re scaring yourself with what-ifs.”
“But what if—”
“No.” I pressed my free hand against my forehead, trying to think through the maelstrom that was threatening to overwhelm us both. “Theo, listen to me. You are an incredible father. Debbie loves you more than anything in this world. You’ve given her four years of stability and happiness and love. No judge is going to ignore that.”
“You don’t know that.”
He was right.
I didn’t know that.
I didn’t know anything about how courts worked or what judges considered or whether love was enough when faced with prejudice and legal technicalities.
