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“How’d that go?” I asked.
He frowned. “Unfortunately, he didn’t think the home visit went as well as you guys did.”
Shit. I looked over at Maya. “Did he mention why?”
“Something about a drawing on the refrigerator that showed you holding hands with the babysitter.”
I closed my eyes. I’d noticed Saylor’s artwork the morning after the investigator’s surprise visit when I’d grabbed the milk out of the fridge. But I’d chosen to allow myself to believe he hadn’t seen it, since both Billie and I thought the visit had gone well. I also didn’t have the heart to take away the positivity Billie was feeling after she’d jumped into the role of babysitter without even a warning.
Maya glared at me. “Your stupid little girlfriend is going to ruin this for both of us.”
The hair on the back of my neck rose. “First of all, don’t call Billie my stupid little girlfriend. She deserves a hell of a lot more respect than that, especially from you, considering she’s taken on the responsibility of being the woman in Saylor’s life when you shrugged your role off like it was nothing. And second of all, the only one capable of ruining anything here is you, because you dragged us all into this mess.”
“Well, if you wouldn’t have—” Maya began, but my attorney interrupted her.
“Alright, alright.” He motioned with his hands for us to lower our voices. “Why don’t we settle down. Pointing fingers isn’t going to help this situation at all.” He looked back and forth between us and sighed. “You two need to be on the same page and find a way to get along. Things have become serious now. The investigator also mentioned that he plans to seek criminal charges if the Stokes hearing doesn’t convince him your marriage is legitimate.”
I got up from my chair to pace back and forth in front of Adam’s desk. “Jesus Christ. I can’t go to prison.” I buried my hands in my hair and pulled as I walked. “I have a four-year-old who needs me. What the hell are we going to do? Can we withdraw the petition, maybe tell the investigator we’re getting a divorce because Maya cheated on me or something?”
Maya calmly examined her manicure and rolled her eyes. “Men are far more likely to cheat than women…”
Adam shook his head. “We can withdraw the petition, but that won’t necessarily stop a prosecution. I’ve had cases where the couple didn’t attend the Stokes hearing, yet the investigator still went after them.”
“Fuck. What do we do now?”
“You don’t have much of a choice here, Colby. You need to pass the Stokes with flying colors.”
“We couldn’t even pass a joint interview that lasted an hour, and now this guy is out for blood. How the hell are we going to pass an eight-hour interrogation?”
“You want my advice?”
“Of course.”
“You have two weeks before the hearing. Move in together. You’ll learn everything about each other and then some. Trust me, I’ve been married for twelve years and didn’t live with my wife before the wedding. There’s a lot of truth to the old adage that you don’t really know someone until you live with them.”
I shook my head. “No fucking way.”
“Don’t be a stubborn mule,” Maya said. “We don’t have a choice, Colby.”
“I’d rather rot in prison than spend two weeks cooped up with you.”
Maya rolled her eyes again.
I stopped pacing and stood with my hands on my hips as I spoke to my attorney. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”
Adam shook his head. “I don’t think so. You know what you’re in for at the hearing.”
“Fine. Then I’m leaving.” I walked toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Maya shouted.
“As far as possible away from you.”
The office was two blocks away from my subway line. But just as I was about to descend the stairs, I noticed a bar a few doors down. My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest, so I decided to have a quick shot or two to take the edge off. Inside, the bar was dark, with only a few old men sitting around. I sidled up to an empty spot near the door and ordered a double shot of tequila. Luckily the bartender didn’t want to talk and just took my money in exchange for the alcohol and a lime. I knocked it back and skipped the fruit, wanting the burn to last for as long as possible. Then I raised my hand to call the bartender back. “One more, please.”
He nodded. “You got it.”
The second double shot went down easier than the first, and I probably could have kept going. But I didn’t want to get shitfaced. So I tossed two twenties on the bar to close out my bill. As I did, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. Maya’s name flashed in preview, making my teeth clench. I was just about to stuff my cell back in my pocket and ignore the message, but then I remembered Billie was coming over later, and I didn’t want Maya blowing up my phone. So I swiped to read the text, never loosening my jaw.
