I roll off him and collapse on my back. “I feel the same way.”
“I will never, ever get enough of you.”
Weeks of intimacy have made everything easier.
Caleb rolls over some time in the night and slides an arm over me, and I don’t freeze in fright. Instead, I snuggle back against my husband and go back to sleep.
There’s never any pressure.
And as it turns out, consent is really sexy.
He checks in with me constantly when we’re in bed together, always making sure I’m comfortable and ready for the next step.
I’m not healed—I’m not sure that fear will ever completely go away. But Caleb’s making all the right moves, and I’m so glad it’s him.
It could only be him.
For days, I agonise over my father’s actions.
Sean promised he’d let us know when he’d have an update, and Caleb keeps telling me no news is good news.
A week after the initial call, Caleb’s phone rings and he meets my gaze.
“It’s Sean. I’ll put him on speaker.”
He answers the call and sets the phone on the coffee table.
“Hi, Sean,” I say.
“Hey, Emma. I’ll just cut to the chase. It’s done.”
I glance at Caleb and frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, confronted with the law and the fact that my lawyers were better than his fresh-out-of-law school lawyer, your father folded like a pack of cards.”
I slam my hand to my mouth.
“What does that mean?” Caleb asks.
“The court action’s been withdrawn. We sat his lawyer down and explained to him that no judge on this planet is going to take away the inheritance the man left to his family and give it to an organisation he hadn’t been a part of for years.” He sighs. “I’ll send you everything, but I’m guessing they couldn’t find anyone else willing to take their case. The paperwork they submitted was a mess.”
“I don’t understand. It was that simple?” I ask.
Sean laughs. “Unless they find another lawyer stupid enough to take that on, it’s sunk. We’ll cross that bridge if and when we hit it. But they have no proof of any promise Malcolm made them. It’s all based on the word of your father and one of the other church elders. There’s nothing in writing.”
“Okay.”
Caleb squeezes my hand. “So, what now?”
“Now we sit tight. I’ll head off anything else that comes up. As I explained, probate being granted makes it harder. He missed that, and then he missed the six months that you had to sit on the estate before distributing it. And now the clock is ticking for the twelve-month deadline which stops any chance of him contesting it. But he has no grounds, and now he’s shown his hand.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Our previous conversations had told me he had no chance but hearing that he tried it was enough to stress me out.
Life has been so good with Caleb, and despite knowing that this might happen, it was still a shock my father had the balls to try and do this.
The only thing that matters, is that he doesn’t get what he wants. My family and our money are off-limits.
For the first time in so very long, I feel safe.
