“You haven’t been in April’s life for nine years,” I say, my voice shaking. “You have no right to swoop in now and mess things up for her.”
“I have every right as her father. I’m on the birth certificate. And when the court hears about your unstable living situation—moving from place to place, living with a man you barely know, exposing April to who knows what?—”
“That’s bullshit,” Grant cuts in with the kind of calm intensity that should make Steven very, very worried. “And you know it.”
But Steven never has been good at reading a room.
“Is it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like Heather is an unfit mother. Dragging April around with no permanent home while her mother shacks up with strangers. That’s not exactly stable parenting.” He pauses. “And you, Parker? You’re part of the problem. What kind of role model is some athlete who is gone all the time? What kind of partying do you get up to on the road, hm? I’m sure the court would love to hear about it. In the meantime, April needs a real father figure. Someone consistent.”
Someone consistent. I can’t believe he has the nerve to even say those words out loud after everything he’s put us through. My legs feel weak, and I have to reach for the counter to steady myself.
“You took something from me, Heather,” Steven continues. “So now I’m going to take something from you. Let’s see how you like it.”
“Over my dead body,” Grant says. “Don’t call here again and don’t even think about going near April or Heather. You’ll have to get through me to get to either of them, and I don’t think you want any of this.”
Steven just laughs. “We’ll see about that. My lawyer will be in touch.”
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone in Grant’s hand, unable to move or breathe. The kitchen feels too small as Steven’s words repeat over and over in my head.
You took something from me, so now I’m going to take something from you.
He’s going to try to take April. He’s actually going to fight me for custody of my daughter.
My daughter. The child I’ve raised alone for nine years. The most important person in my entire world. And he thinks he can just waltz back into our lives and claim her like she’s some kind of prize to be won.
I can feel the panic rising in my chest until it’s almost choking me, and my hands are shaking so badly I have to grip the counter to keep myself upright.
Steven will never stop. He’s never going to leave us alone. This is what he does—he finds ways to hurt me, to control me, to make me feel small and powerless. And now he’s threatening the one thing that matters more to me than anything else.
But I don’t cry. I won’t give Steven that power, even if he’s not here to see it.
“Heather.” Grant’s voice cuts through the spiral. His hands are on my shoulders, steady and warm. “Look at me.”
I force my eyes to focus on his face.
“Come here.” He pulls me into his arms, and I willingly, gratefully press my face against his chest. His heart is beating fast, and I know he’s just as shaken as I am, but he’s holding it together for me.
“I’m going to help you take care of this.” His voice rumbles against my ear, and any other time it would be enough to soothe my frayed nerves. But this is bigger than anything I’ve dealt with since I left Steven in the first place. “You’re not doing this alone.”
“He’s going to try.” I shake my head, still in disbelief. “He’s going to take me to court and try to prove that I’m a bad mother.”
“And he’s going to lose.” Grant’s arms tighten around me. “Because you’re not a bad mother. You’re the strongest person Iknow. You’ve raised an incredible kid on your own, and you’ve built a life for the two of you from nothing. And no one—no judge, no jury, no one in their right mind—would ever believe that April would be better off with Steven than with you.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly.
“But what if he’s right about the instability? What if the court looks at how much we’ve moved around? The judge might decide Steven looks better on paper than I do.”
“No.” His voice is firm. “Steven is trying to get in your head. That’s what he does, right? He makes you doubt yourself until you think you’re not good enough. But he’s wrong. He’s always been wrong about you, and it’s probably eating him up inside that you’re standing your ground against his empty threats.”
A tremor runs through me, but I still don’t let myself cry.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I’ve never been this scared in my life.”
“I know.” He holds me tight, almost too tight, but I don’t want him to let go. “But you can do this. You’ve faced worse and come out the other side. And this time, you’re not alone.”
“I know. And I appreciate you. I just don’t know how we’re going to fight him.”
