And Presley has been incredible. She doesn’t say a word when Rhyan comes into the room in the middle of the night and wants to sleep between us. She lets Remy climb into her lap whenever he needs to be held, and he talks to her quietly.
It’s the Harts contesting my guardianship that I’m struggling the most with. I’m really trying to see their perspective in making this move, but I just can’t. This is what Savannah and Chris wanted. They knew what I did, and they still felt like I was the best choice for the kids. I don’t understand why the Harts aren’t seeing that.
And now we have to wait for a court to decide that I’m enough. For a court to pick apart my entire life and measure it against two kids who’ve already lost so much.
Which is why I’m sitting in a conference room at the Grants’ family attorneys’ firm, wearing a polo and khakis that make me feel like I’m suffocating. But Presley is beside me with a folder infront of her and her hand resting close enough to mine that I can grab it if I need to.
I haven’t.
Yet.
But knowing I can is comforting enough.
Across the table are two of the attorneys. Sharp suits, calm voices, expensive pens, and the kind of confidence people have when they know how to control a room without becoming hostile.
On a large screen at the end of the table is Savannah and Chris’s attorney, Rebecca, joining us remotely. I’m sure she doesn’t love that I requested this meeting, and I’m sure she doesn’t appreciate me bringing other attorneys into the case.
I’m leaning back in my chair, forcing myself to listen calmly.
“Wyatt,” Rebecca says, “as we discussed, the Harts are contesting the guardianship due to concerns about your schedule, travel, and ability to give them the day-to-day care they require. So, even though you’ve been awarded temporary custody of the children, there will need to be home visits, as well as scheduled time with their grandparents, who will also have home visits. Due to the age of the children, the judge may or may not speak with them directly. But we need to be prepared for everything.”
My jaw tightens. Beside me, Presley goes still.
It feels like an insult. My career, my lifestyle, my reliability…as if I haven’t loved these kids before this paperwork even existed.
“Right, thank you, Rebecca,” I say firmly. If I keep talking, I would likely say something I would regret. “I’ll get back with you soon on how we decide to move forward.”
She nods. “Of course. I’m available for any questions you have about the next steps.”
One of the Grants’ attorneys—Marlowe, I think her name is—steps in. “Thank you so much for meeting with us today. We’ll continue from here and coordinate with your office directly.”
A few more professional words pass around the room, but I don’t hear any of them. And then the screen goes black, and Rebecca is gone.
I drag a hand over my jaw and look down at the table.
Presley’s fingers shift closer to mine, so I take them, and her hand folds into mine immediately.
Marlowe waits until I look at her. “We understand this is incredibly difficult.”
I feel like laughing at the worddifficult. It’s such a simple word, but too small for what this is.
“My situation is complicated,” I say before she can continue. “I know that. My contract, travel, training … all of it.”
I hear a throat clear, and I look in the direction it came from. I almost forgot that Presley’s father is sitting near the end of the table. He hasn’t inserted himself into the conversation, and I appreciate that more than I can say. And he’s not treating me like an employee right now. But more like family, which makes this that much harder.
Because I know if I asked the organization to release me, they would. They’d absorb whatever damage came with my departure.
They’d do it because of Presley. And because somewhere along the way, the Grants became family.
But I’m still committed to the team. Yes, football has taken a lot from me, like time and my energy. It’s also given me structure. It paid for Savannah’s education and her first apartment. It allows me to give Remy and Rhyan every resource they need now.
I love the game. I love my team. I love stepping onto a field, knowing exactly who I’m supposed to be. But that doesn’t make the kids less important. It just means I need to make changes.
I admit I was a bit reluctant to come today, but I came for Presley. Not because she wanted to push me in any way. But because she didn’t want me to make a decision to end my career because of guilt or pressure. And I do need to figure out how I can adjust my schedule when needed for the kids.
“Just listen,” she’d said that morning while helping Rhyan find her purple dragon socks. “You don’t have to make any decisions today.”
So, I listen.
