Page 149 of Sweet Distraction

“You sound like you already know the outcome. What the judge has decided.”

I hesitate. “No. I don’t.” But deep down, I do. “She needs us both.”

The silence stretches for a second too long, then Mrs. Whitmore nods, slowly. “You’re a good father,” she whispers. “She’s lucky to have you.”

I blink hard and struggle for words through the inundation of emotion. “And despite the estrangement between you and Olivia, she felt the same about you.”

Mr. Whitmore flinches . . . and then his eyes fill. He nods once, fast, like if he doesn’t, he’ll lose control.

“We’d like to see her,” he says gruffly. “If that’s okay.”

I nod. “Of course.”

We turn, and when Poppy looks up, her eyes light up and she lifts her arms. I scoop her up, tuck her close, and turn just as the Whitmores step into view. For a beat, we all just stand there.

Then Poppy waves her bunny.

Mrs. Whitmore sniffles softly and clutches her chest.

Mr. Whitmore presses a hand over his mouth and nods, like maybe this is the first time in months he’s seen the girl and not the ghost of his daughter.

“We’ll give you a minute,” I murmur as Hendrix moves out of the room.

I kiss the top of Poppy’s head and place her down between them.

They kneel on the floor. She smiles before reaching for Mrs. Whitmore’s hand.

And just like that, we stop being enemies for the common good of Poppy.

I know it won’t always be easy. I know animosity might own them at times. But for Poppy’s sake, we’ll manage.

I step back, watch the three of them together, and again know that Willow would be proud.

Of how I spoke.

Of how I stayed and fought.

Of how I gave grace, even when I hadn’t been shown any.

And that? That might be the first thing I’ve done right without her beside me.

But God willing, it won’t be the last.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Willow

I wait outside the courthouse with my heart in my throat and my fingers digging into my leather bag’s strap.

People begin filing out—reporters, spectators, the general public—but I keep my head down, not wanting to be noticed, which could feed their malicious fodder.

If there still is such a thing. I can hope that Rocket’s comments in there about me will make it out into the world. But the salacious sells better than the boring and so I’m not expecting much.

But he made the effort.

He protected me by defending me.

Now, if he’d just see it’d be better if we were a team together fighting against this . . . and his words today gave me hope that there is.