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It was now or never, but I wished I didn’t have to do it at all.
I wished things were different. I wished that Lanie’s father hadn’t done this to us. I wished my feelings for Amanda weren’t concealed underneath some plan to keep Lanie in my custody. I wished so many things were different.
“You ready?” Amanda asked.
“Almost. I have something to give you,” I said.
“Oh? What is it?” she asked.
I pulled the ring out of my pocket and I saw her expression shift. Her eyes widened as she took the ring from my hand, her eyes studying the shimmering diamonds. It was a princess-cut diamond surrounded by chocolate and yellow diamonds. They outlined the central diamond as well as cascaded down the sides of the rose-gold band. I watched her take it in, turning it around so she could see it from all angles.
“It’s, um, your engagement ring,” I said. “Since we aren’t married yet. But it’ll make things look intentional, especially since I filed for the license.”
“Brian. This is beautiful. You know a small one would’ve sufficed,” Amanda said.
“It needs to look real. And if I was proposing to you —”
My words caught in my throat as Amanda slid it onto her finger. It looked perfect, perched there on her hand. The diamonds not only accentuated her long, delicate fingers, it also accentuated the tone of her skin. The ring was fucking perfect for her, and it twisted the knife that had buried itself in my heart.
“It’s beautiful,” Amanda said breathlessly. “And I understand. You kept the receipt, right? So you can return it afterward?”
I felt like I was bleeding onto the floorboard of my truck with every word she spoke.
“Of course,” I said. “I did. Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Do we need some sort of story about how we met?” she asked.
“Stick with how we actually met. Your inherited home, how we clicked instantly, how Lanie has already taken to you. There’s paperwork to back up that story, so let’s go with it,” I said.
“Perfect. Okay. Let’s go do this,” she said.
I escorted her into the courthouse, and my lawyer found us at the front door. He led us through the winding corridors and up the stairs as he talked us through what would happen. We would sit in a waiting room until our docket number was called, then we would follow him and sit beside him in front of a judge. We would present all the information we had, we would give our defense and our arguments, the judge would ask some questions, and if all went well, he would award custody today.
“Today?” I asked. “The judge might make that decision today?”
“It’s okay, Brian,” Amanda said. “We’ve got this. Trust the system. It does work.”
Our fingers were laced together as she laid her head on my shoulder. I was glad she came along because her presence was a comfort. She pressed kisses into my shoulder that settled my rapidly-beating heart, and she traced pictures on top of my skin that settled my shaking hands. But we weren’t sitting long before my phone rang in my pocket.
“Hold on,” I said. “Hello?”
“Brian. It’s me.”
“Man. Where the hell have you been?” I asked.
It was my private investigator, and my entire body went on high alert.
“Two things. One, it took some time to get Daryl out of town, but he left town yesterday morning.”
“What the hell’s the second thing?” I asked.
“Docket Number 245612-07.” A woman’s voice called out a docket number.
“That’s us,” my lawyer said. “Wrap it up.”
“I have to go. Can this wait?” I asked.
“You’ll figure it out in court. And you’re welcome. I expect payment in my account by the end of the day. Give your family my regards.”
I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but I didn’t have time to figure it out. I turned my phone on silent and placed it back in my pocket. Amanda was holding her hand out for me, and my lawyer was staring me down. It was time to go and face the asshole that was trying to shake me down and using Lanie to do it.
We walked down the hallway and slipped into the small courtroom. It wasn’t like the courtroom I imagined it would be. It was small, with no room for any sort of audience or jury to sit and observe. Amanda and I followed my lawyer to one of the desks, and we sat down. The only person sitting at the other desk was a lawyer.
A lawyer who didn’t have any sort of briefcase or files with him.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Macon C. Clemmons.”
“Everyone stay seated. I have a full schedule today, and I’m ready to get this over with,” the judge said.
I shot my lawyer a look, but he seemed unconcerned. Was this the kind of judge we wanted presiding over my niece’s fucking custody case? Someone who just wanted to ‘get this over with’? I felt Amanda squeeze my hand as her eyes scanned my body.
