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Shaking my head, I shove some peanuts in my mouth. "And you say you know women."
"How did you end up groveling?" Logan asks, mystified in honest.
"Showed up at Monica's door with flowers. I honestly don't know what got into me."
"Some of that Bennett honor reared its head, and you wanted to come clean," Logan suggests.
"Its ugly head," Blake corrects. "Anyway, enough about me and one of my less-than-stellar moments. Our boy Christopher is the one in need of counsel."
Damn, I don't want this conversation to circle back to me. I know what's at stake.
I make a grab for my glass but narrowly miss it. I miscalculated the distance and my vision's blurry; no more scotch for me. Pressing my palms against my eyes, I attempt to do away with the fog. An image pops at the back of my mind: Chloe shoving the two cards with the phoenix and the unicorn under Victoria’s nose, and Lucas and Sienna proudly showing her the vanity table we built. The thought of losing Victoria and the kids is excruciating. Ever since I left them this afternoon, there is a physical pain in my body. Th
ey all mean the world to me, and I will get them back.
"I will pretend I didn’t hear that." Blake's voice snaps me out of my pity party for one.
"What?" Looking from Blake to Logan, it's hard to tell which one's grinning wider. I have the sinking suspicion I might have voiced some of those thoughts.
"You said something about a unicorn, a phoenix, and how Victoria and the kids mean the world to you and some more mushy stuff," Blake informs me. "Too much cutesy there. My masculinity is being threatened."
Logan clasps my shoulder. "Christopher doesn't need our advice. He'll do well on his own."
"Suit yourself, but no more scotch for you, Christopher, or you'll add a dragon to the mix so the unicorn and phoenix don't get lonely."
"Blake!" I warn.
"You know what the best part is about all of you getting hitched?" Blake continues undeterred.
"No, but I suppose you'll enlighten us," Logan deadpans.
"The best part is that I can watch you mess up and avoid the same mistakes when my time comes."
I snort. "You take the cake, anyway."
"When your time comes?" Logan asks our younger brother skeptically.
"Five Bennetts down in four years." Blake shudders, grimacing. "There's definitely something in the air. Before I know it, that damn virus will get me too."
"It definitely will if Pippa and Alice have anything to say about it." Logan downs his scotch, handing Blake the empty glass, then turns to me. "Go get those kids back."
Blake points his finger in my direction. "And the girl."
I nod. There is one thing I’ve learned since I met Victoria. You have no say when the people who will become your whole world walk into your life. But it sure as hell is up to me not to let them walk back out.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Victoria
I arrive at the courthouse fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of the trial. I ditched my usual multicolored outfits, opting for the dark blue suit I wear during bank visits, hoping this will contribute to establishing my image of a responsible adult.
The doors to the courtroom are open so I peek inside, not feeling brave enough to walk in by myself. I wish Alan were here already. The courtroom resembles what I've seen on TV, albeit smaller. Hervis and his lawyer are already inside, sitting at one table. An empty table is on the other side of the room where I assume Alan and I will sit. The judge's table is in the center at the far end, and the witness box next to it. Right now, it looks like a stake to me, one where I'm about to be burned. There is no jury in custody litigation cases, Alan told me.
Eventually, I walk inside and take the seat at the empty table, because I look ridiculous pacing around outside. My palms become sweaty with each passing moment, and I try to wipe them discreetly on my skirt. My pulse races and my mouth is as dry as cotton. Everything will be all right!
I repeat this to myself a few times, to no avail. Breathing in and out of my nose, I remind myself that Alan has built a rock-solid case. I've been running around like mad the past two days, asking everyone from the kids' teachers to former clients of mine for references. The aim is to build my credibility. Christopher has been doing the same, and Alan has been updating me on his involvement this entire week. I haven't spoken to Christopher directly, and Alan strongly advised that he should not come by our house, since Hervis will use the outburst at the hospital against him.
I was not in the right state of mind to call Christopher. When I wasn't running around asking for references, I was around corners crying out of fear of losing the kids, or pouring all my energy in holding back the tears when I was around them. Alan arrives five minutes before the trial is set to begin, sitting next to me.
