Jackson: I’m gonna give your book boyfriends a run for their money.
Me: Impossible.
Jackson: I’m looking forward to changing your mind.
My thighs press together and my fingers hover over the screen as I think of a witty comeback. I’m grinning at our flirty text exchange when my phone begins to ring. My stomach drops and my body goes cold at the caller ID.
Edward!Something is wrong. It has to be for Beckett to call in the middle of the day. All amusement drains from my body as I swipe my finger across the screen to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Rosalie, hi.” His tone doesn’t hold any panic or fear, and my body relaxes slightly.
“Is everything okay? How’s Edward?”
“Calm down. He’s fine.” He sighs, and I picture his exasperated frown. “I’ve raised three children, Rosalie.”
Like I could’ve forgotten about his family. “Okay, so what can I help you with?”
“I’m calling now so you can talk with Edward. We won’t be availabletonight.”
I should be grateful he’s checking in daily as agreed. But instead, I wonder why he can’t call later. “What’s happening tonight?”
“I don’t need to clear our schedule with you, Rosalie. That’s not part of our agreement.” His annoyance quickly blooms to genuine malice, and I feel his distaste through the line. “Do you think I’d do anything to hurt him? Do you think I’m an incapable guardian? Me? I think I can handle playing sitter for a few days; I have a doctorate. Or did you forget about that too?”
I know better than to question his authority. It’ll only put him in a bad mood, and I can’t chance that he’ll take out his frustration on Edward.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
“You should be grateful I comply with your little list of demands. You should be grateful I take care of you both so well. You should be thanking me for allowing you to raise him, when his rightful place is in my home. He’s mine, Rosalie. No matter what we agreed to, he’s mine.”
He’s mine.
The warning reverberates through my body and incites a new sense of panic. Beckett has the money to come after full custody. Connections too.
“Yes, I’m sorry, Beckett.” I know better than to start an argument with him. Still, the apology tastes sour on my lips. “You’re right.”
“You’d do well to remember your place in all this. Especially if you want this life I provide to continue.”
He’s always held more power in our relationship. First as my professor. Then, as the aristocrat with millions compared to my empty bank account and non-existent support system. As Edward got older, I could sense a real interest from Beckett to get to know his son. I assumed the one week a year arrangement would be enough, but what if it’s not? What if he tries to take him from me?
What if, after everything I agreed to, he changes his mind and pushes me out of Edward’s life? I won’t survive it.
Fear tightens my chest, like a band growing tighter and tighter to the point I can hardly breathe, let alone speak.
“I don’t know how you do it, living in this godforsaken town. There’s nothing here. No culture. No arts. Even your library is lacking the most basic of necessities.” Beckett scoffs. “You could have picked anywhere in this state. You still can.”
The invitation is clear. He wants us closer. Closer to control. Close enough to steal every bit of peace in my life.
“I like it here.”
Yeah, it was an adjustment at first, but this is my home now. And this place is not uncultured or simple. Not the way he implies. The people of this town are honest, hard-working, and intelligent too.
“I don’t believe that for a second.” His laugh is patronizing and mean, and it takes every effort not to respond. Silence fills the line, and thankfully he gives up waiting for a reply.
“Here’s Edward.”
“Hello?” My son’s voice brings tears to my eyes, for no other reason than I miss him.
