Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Taking a deep breath, I sign, Not sure yet. I’ll tell you when I know, yeah?
Her brows pinch, the gears in her head moving at top speed. Bluey packed when they left for a new home. Are we getting a new home?
Smartass kid. I don’t know, my love. Give me some time?
She eyes me skeptically but nods. Okay.
I cup her face, but before I can lean in for a kiss, her eyes land on Thatcher. She runs over to him, and he catches her, lifting her into the air as her giggles fill the room. She wraps her arms around his neck, and with one hand, he asks, How are your ears?
She shrugs, leaning back to use both hands. They hurt.
He nods. No ears today? Right, Mommy?
Well. Damn. I wasn’t prepared for him to call me Mommy. I must be a freak because that is kind of hot. Ignoring my wanton body, I sign, Right. We’ll wait, okay?
Before she can reply, a knock sounds on the door. My heart kicks up since there is only one person who would knock on the door.
The lawyer.
Thatcher hands Arwen off to me, and I get her set up as he greets the lawyer. Elijah Wolfe—Eli, as he tells me to call him—is a very handsome man. He doesn’t give off the vibe of a strong-armed lawyer, rather, a surfer who would call me “dude.” Though, he is well-spoken and has very kind green eyes, while his blond hair is brushed to the side, perfectly styled. He has on a dark-green Tom Ford suit that hugs every bit of his big body. I almost wonder if he was an athlete before.
Not that I ask; I’m too busy chewing a hole in my cheek.
After he sets his black briefcase on the table, I sit down before my nerves eat me alive. Arwen is none the wiser, flitting around the room, demanding attention. Thatcher eats it up, tickling and loving on her. I would do the same, but I can’t give her the attention she deserves when my anxiety is threatening to suffocate me. To my surprise, Eli even interacts with her. His signing isn’t as fluent as ours, but he tries and I appreciate that.
When Eli pulls out the paperwork, I still as I listen to him explain how he spent the previous day at the courthouse getting the correct forms and securing us a court date for the morning. He’s apparently close friends with the judge in Richmond, and instead of having us go up there, he will do our appointment virtually.
When Eli asks if we’re sure of the paternity, I’m blown away by the certainty in Thatcher’s voice. “She is mine.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat as I only nod. Eli nods in agreement and types some more on his computer. “Are we suing for full custody?”
My head whips to Thatcher, but he’s cool as a cucumber. “No, we will raise Arwen together.”
Eli looks up at him over the top of his computer. “That’s not what you said yesterday.”
I gawk at him, but he pays me no mind. “I was high on emotions and not thinking clearly. Arwen needs her mother as much as she needs me. We’ll do this together.” My heart aches as I watch him in awe. He makes it seem so simple. Like no time has passed and no pain has been caused. It’s insane, and the guilt washes over me in waves. How can he be so calm when I feel like I’m about to break? Slowly, Thatcher’s gaze locks with mine. “I was wrong for what I said last night. I don’t want to strong-arm you or force you into anything. I want you to want to raise Arwen with me. I promise to be the best father to her.”
It’s hard to get words out around the lump in my throat. “I know you will.”
“And I’ll be respectful of you and what you want. I know it’s a hard ask with our past and how big of an asshole I’ve been, but I’ll beg if need be. While moments of our history aren’t the greatest, there are still some that are. I think if we lean into that part, we can raise our daughter together.”
I’m rendered speechless as he holds my gaze. Eli doesn’t seem the least bit affected by Thatcher’s speech and asks, “So fifty-fifty?”
“No,” Thatcher says once more. “One hundred for both of us.”
Eli’s brows pull together, and finally, I find my voice. “How will that work?”
“I don’t know yet, but we’ll figure it out,” he says confidently. “Together.”
“But you’re not together, correct?” Eli asks, and I shake my head along with Thatcher. “So, it’d be safer to do this fifty-fifty. Split the time between the two of you. Maybe do one week on, one week off.”