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CHAPTER
FORTY-NINE
AMBER
The following morning, Ford is at practice before his game later tonight. This is the first game Nella and I will be attending and I’m nervous but excited. I’ve followed the team and watched games long enough to know that everyone is fascinated about the players’ spouses. There will be photos captured, probably even posted on the Eagles’ social media accounts.
I still need to rifle through Ford’s closet in hopes to find something to wear tonight. Maybe I can style one of his Eagles jerseys as a dress since his shirts are gigantic on me.
Loading the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, I throw a detergent pod in and turn it on. Nella is down for her morning nap, and I walk toward the large front window in the living room, taking a moment to soak up the quiet. The sunlight streaming in through the windows is almost too bright, but I bask in its rays, letting the warmth and light soak into my skin, my soul. Taking away all the fear and worry, replacing it with something brighter.
When I open my eyes, that brightness is dashed by a silver Mercedes pulling up in front of the house.
“Not again.” I groan. Ford isn’t here to protect me this time, and the fear starts creeping in. Thankfully, Theo’s mother steps out of the vehicle, no Theo in sight. He doesn’t appear to be with her.
She’s more casual today, in dark skinny jeans and a pale blue, collared shirt. She looks like a regular woman instead of a lawyer who just got out of court.
I meet her at the door, not wanting to wait around for her to knock.
Mrs. Peregrine seems startled when I open the door. I’m sure I’m quite the vision in my leggings and the baggy t-shirt I borrowed from Ford last night. But this is what she gets when she comes over—uninvited—at eight-thirty in the morning.
“Amber,” she says politely, stopping before she reaches the front stoop leading to the impressive front door of this big house. “I came by to apologize about yesterday.”
My eyebrows shoot up, betraying how surprised I am by her apology.
She straightens her shoulders and takes a deep, fortifying breath. “My son wasn’t quite forthcoming with me about how your relationship ended. I’m afraid he made it sound like you ended things when he wasn’t sure if he was ready to become a father. That he asked for time, and you dashed his hopes. But yesterday it was obvious that wasn’t the case.” She glances down at her black flats, then back up at me. “Not having all the information, I told him he should try again, try to make things right. My brother lives in this neighborhood and said he’d seen you, but none of us realized you’d gotten married. I apologize for the stress my son has brought you.”
“Um, thank you.”
“As a lawyer, I know my son could get partial custody of your daughter—his daughter.”
My breathing stops. Air is no longer moving through my lungs.
“But as a mother—one who has gone through her own custody battle before—I have no desire to put you, or your daughter, through that. Especially after speaking to my son late into the night last night. It’s obvious he doesn’t desire custody or want to pay child support at this point in his life.”
I exhale a deep breath, the urge to hug this woman almost overwhelming.
Theo’s mother toys with her wristwatch, appearing self-conscious. “But, if I may be so bold, I do have a favor to ask.”
I nod, urging her to continue, but also dreading what she might ask.
“I wondered if you might be willing to send me a photo of her, maybe once a year? Just for me, not for my idiot son. And maybe a small update about her life…how she’s doing.”
I smile, hoping to ease her nerves. By the look on her face, I think this is the most terrifying request she’s ever made. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”
Her shoulders slump in relief. “Does she look like Theo at all?”
I hold up one finger, urging her to wait a moment, and run inside to grab my phone before returning to her. “Here’s a photo I captured of her smiling.”
Holding up my phone, I show her the photo and her eyes brim with tears. She composes herself, and not one tear flows over.
“She has his dimple.” Theo’s mother grins, and I realize for the first time that he got that dimple from her. “Thank you, Amber.” She pulls a business card out of her back pocket and hands it to me.
Reading it quickly, I see it has her work address and email on it.
“Thank you,” I say, locking eyes with her, trying to convey that I’m thanking her for much more than just the business card. I’m thanking her for letting me live my life in peace with my daughter when she could’ve made our lives difficult. She could’ve fought, could’ve dragged us to court. But she didn’t.
With a soft smile, she turns and walks back to her car. I head inside, feeling like I’m floating…back into the sunlight, and enjoying the feeling of everything being right. My heart is fixed, my baby is safe, and I’m with the man I love.
