"My job is to observe and report the truth, and the truth is that your ex-wife is a good mother." I hold his stare and don't blink. "She keeps a clean house. She feeds that kid home-cooked meals every night. She shows up to every practice and every school event. She works full-time and still makes time to play with him in the yard. You’re not trying to find dirt. You're trying to plant it."
"The medication?—"
"Millions of people take antidepressants and sleeping pills and raise their kids just fine. You're grasping at straws and you know it."
His jaw tightens and his nostrils flare as he takes a long drink and sets his glass down. "Just do your fucking job. I'm not paying you to flirt with her. I'm paying you to check up on her. If there's no dirt, then there's no dirt. Got it?"
"Fine," I growl, grateful that he's not canning me right now for standing up to him. Apparently, he still thinks I can do this job—or will do this job. Right now, I'm more worried about protecting an innocent woman from a monster, and with only a few weeksleft in this contract he put me on, I'll be glad when it's over. Maybe then I can come clean and really protect her.
"See yourself to the door, thank you. I have company coming and I'm going to shower before she gets here." The man slinks off down the hallway like the snake he is, and I watch him go before I stomp out.
Olivia has every right to be afraid of this man. He may not be abusive in the way some men get physical with their partners and ex-partners, but he's dangerous, and I see right through his disgusting plan.
As I climb into my truck, I think of the way she turned into my chest and clung to me after that altercation. She was trembling, not at all her normal, happy self. In fact, after all the things I've seen her put up with, it was the first time I ever saw her look anything but pleasant. He really has a way of shaking her up. She's genuinely afraid of him, and I hate that for her.
When I pull into my driveway, I get out and walk into the garage, opening the small fridge I keep next to the workbench to grab a beer. I really got myself into a pickle this time, and I'm not sure how to get out of it. I've fallen for this woman I was supposed to be observing, and if she learns who I really am, she'll never trust me. But if I don't tell her, she'll never know what sort of a jackass her ex-husband is.
Sinking into the old lawn chair next to the fridge, I hear her footsteps on the driveway. They're so quiet, I might think someone is sneaking up on me for a moment before Olivia rounds the corner into the spread of light cast by the single fluorescent bulb hanging in the center of the garage ceiling. She looks tired, but she carries herself gracefully.
"Hey," she says quietly.
"Hey." I take a pull from the beer and set it on the bench behind me.
She walks in and leans on the tool cabinet across from me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, which means after she calmed herself at the soccer field, she wasn't all that calm. She was probably just crying at home and heard me pull in. God, I hate that man.
"I wanted to apologize for today," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "For the scene at the field. You shouldn't have had to deal with that."
"You don't owe me an apology." If only this woman knew how I really feel about her, she'd understand that she could be weak and vulnerable around me and I'd carry it all for her.
"I feel like I do. You got dragged into this whole mess, and now he's probably going to use you against me in court somehow." She rubs her forehead with the heel of her hand, looking exasperated for a moment before her rosy smile returns. "I should've been smarter about the whole thing. I know how controlling he can?—"
"Olivia." I wait until she looks at me. "Your kid wanted to kick a ball around with someone he trusts. That's not a crime and you don't need to apologize for it." How badly I want to stand up and walk over to hug her. I'm just not sure how she'd take it, and I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do. Sure, we had sex and I know something is brewing between us, but it'd be better if I just stay aloof. If this goes sideways, she'll be so hurt already. Imagine if I let her really bond to me hard.
She nods, but I can tell she doesn't believe me. She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve and stares at the garage floor.
"He called me on the way home," she says. "Left a voicemail telling me he's filing a motion to modify custody. He says the situation with you proves I have poor judgment and I'm exposing Ethan to inappropriate influences." Her chest deflates and the ever-present sunshine in her expression and body language fades a little, like the sunset drawing back the curtain on the truth. "Three years I've been fighting him, and every time I think it's over, he finds a new angle."
"He won't win, okay? No court is going to believe I'm a bad influence any more than they would his lady friends he has over." The double standard is so disgusting, I want to drive back over there and take pictures of the man with whatever woman he's dragged home tonight.
"He's not bluffing, though. He follows through on everything because that's how he controls me. He makes a threat and then he executes it, and then he watches me scramble and that's his whole game." Her voice cracks, and she forces a smile to hide the emotion. I wish she didn't feel the need to do that.
I set my beer down and push off the workbench and walk over to her, gently taking her hand. She curls her fingers through mine as we stand face to face. It takes everything in me not to hug her.
"I'm so tired, Caleb," she whispers. "I'm tired of being scared all the time. I'm tired of watching every move I make because he might be watching too. I second-guess every decision because it could show up in a courtroom six months from now." She pulls away and her hands hang at her sides. "I just want to raise my son and be happy and not have to fight for the right to do it."
"You shouldn't have to fight for it," I say softly, curling a stray hair around her ear.
"But I do. Every single day, I do."
It physically pains me to know I've been on the wrong side of this battle. Derek is going to use what I give him and twist it to make it sound evil, and I've already given him enough to do that. It's something I can't undo, and I hate myself for it.
"You're not alone in this," I tell her. "Whatever happens, you're not doing it alone anymore. Okay?"
She looks up with eyes so full of trust and gratitude, it makes my throat clench and my gut churn. I don't deserve that trust after what I've done.
"Go get some sleep, okay?" I press a kiss to her forehead absently, then pull away knowing I shouldn't have done that. It's better than sleeping with her, but to a woman this vulnerable, it might be more intimate. I don't know anymore.
"Goodnight, Caleb. Thank you again for being there today."
