I’m single.
Right. As in—not married.
Jerry continues, unfazed by the fact that my chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. “Have you thought about what your day-to-day would look like as Cole’s guardian? Who takes him to school? Who helps him with homework? Who watches him when you’re away on business?”
I go stiff.
Fucking fuck.I didn’t think about any of that. I only thought about getting him out of Cece’s house. About not losing him.
Not the logistics. Not the details. Not the reality.
“Cece’s attorney has already flagged concerns about stability. Your travel schedule. Your public image. The nightclub. Past media coverage.” He takes a sip of his water. “They’ll argue it reflects an inconsistent lifestyle.”
My blood heats instantly.
So basically, I’m a liability because I’m single and successful. Makes perfect fucking sense.
Christ. I thought I was sitting pretty. I’m the one who has history with Cole, a relationship. I’ve got money, resources, a great place to live—hell, I’ve got multiple places to live. Plus, Cole and I have fun together. We laugh. We get along. I show up.I’ve always shown up.
But it’s becoming painfully clear my case isn’t as bulletproof as I thought it was. Not when it’s stacked up against Cece’s.
I draw in a slow breath.Don’t panic.I’m used to high stakes, pressure, coming up with solutions at the last minute. I’ve built my entire career by thinking fast and outside the box.
Think, Matt. Think.
I’m not losing this because of who I am. I won’t apologize for working my ass off or enjoying what I’ve earned. For being a straight, single man who lets loose on the weekends. Honestly, if anyone else were in my shoes, they’d be doing the exact same damn thing.
It doesn’t mean I’m not a good person or that I can’t be a good father to Cole. Maybe I didn’t have one as an example, but I sure as shit know whatnotto do.
Colewantsto be with me.Natewould’ve wanted this. And selfishly, for reasons I can’t fucking explain, I want it too.
But now there’s all this invisible red tape, all these bullshit rules, and no matter how many advantages I have, none of it matters. I don’t have the winning ticket.
And the winning ticket is being married. Especially because I’m a man. Might as well bend over right now.
I exhale hard through my nose, dragging a hand over my mouth.
A thought pops into my head, and it’s fucking insane. So unhinged that I almost laugh it off.
But I don’t.
Instead, I drum my fingers against the table and say, “What if… what if I were to get married? Would that help?”
“Potentially, yes. A stable two-adult household carries weight.” Jerry steeples his fingers, studying me. “But I need clarity, Matt. Are you saying you’re engaged, or that you intend to be?”
“I am.”Lie.“Well… we’ve been talking about it. I was planning to propose to my girlfriend next month, but if I ask her sooner, and we get married at the courthouse, do the bigger ceremony later… Would that strengthen my case?”
“It would help,” he says carefully, glancing down at his notes. His brows pull together. “Remind me your girlfriend’s name?”
Shit.Here goes nothing.
“Jordan Demetriou. I mentioned her earlier. She’s one of the people I listed as practically family. Cole’s known her his whole life, and we basically live together. She just hasn’t officially moved in yet.” I hold up my hand and wiggle my fingers, adding, “Not until it’s official.”
Jerry hesitates, letting my words soak in. I can’t tell if he believes me or if he’s quietly calling bullshit. He remains professionally neutral and says, “If the relationship is legitimate, it absolutely strengthens your case. But I can’t represent anything to the court that isn’t true. What Icansay is that you are in the process of establishing a two-adult household. That’s acceptable, as long as you follow through.” He leans back slightly. “But Matt, until there’s a marriage license, I can’t file anything that states you’re married or engaged.”
Well…
Fuck.
