CHAPTER 3
GRACIE
Ryan's texts have been getting worse.
They started the day after I moved — just checking in, he said. Making sure Amelia was settling okay. Reasonable on the surface, the way he always is. The way he's trained himself to be, so that when I try to explain it to anyone else, I sound paranoid. Crazy. Like the problem is me.
But I know what's underneath. I lived with it for seven years.
"Hope the new place is working out. Amelia mentioned she misses her friends."
"Heard there's been some issues at school. We should talk about what's best for her."
"The custody review is coming up. Just want to make sure we're on the same page."
Each one carefully worded. Each one designed to make me doubt myself, my choices, my parenting. He never threatens outright. He doesn't have to.
Today is the custody handoff. Neutral location — a McDonald's parking lot halfway between Tucson and Phoenix. It was my lawyer's idea. Public place, security cameras, witnesses. Safe.
I don't feel safe.
Amelia's in the back seat, kicking her feet against the seat in front of her and chattering about the book she's reading. She doesn't know anything's wrong. That's the one thing I've managed to do right — keep her out of the middle, at least as much as I can.
"Mom, do you think Dad will take me to get ice cream?"
"Maybe, sweetheart. You'll have to ask him."
"He said last time he would. But then he didn't."
I grip the steering wheel tighter. "Well, maybe this time."
The McDonald's comes into view, and my stomach drops. His car is already there — the black BMW, parked in the corner of the lot. He's early. He's never early.
I pull into a spot on the opposite side and take a breath. Then another.
You can do this. It's ten minutes. Fifteen, tops. Hand her over, confirm the pickup time on Sunday, leave.
"Ready, baby?"
Amelia unbuckles and grabs her backpack. "Ready!"
We walk across the parking lot together, her hand in mine. Ryan steps out of his car as we approach, and my whole body tenses.
He looks the same. That's the worst part. Clean-cut, well-dressed, the kind of man other women look at and think she's lucky. Blonde hair perfectly styled. Easy smile that used to make me feel special. Now it just makes my skin crawl.
"There's my girl!" He crouches down and opens his arms, and Amelia runs to him. He scoops her up, spinning her around, and she giggles.
I stand there, arms at my sides, waiting.
When he sets her down, his eyes find mine. The smile stays, but something shifts behind it. Something cold.
"Gracie. You look tired."
"I'm fine."
"The drive must be rough. All this back and forth." He tilts his head, sympathetic. Concerned. "You know, if you moved back to Phoenix, this would be so much easier. For everyone."
"I'm happy where I am."
