Page 27 of Fake To Forever

“That’s what I’m here for,” he replies. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more updates. In the meantime, try to take care of yourself, Christian. Your son needs you to be strong.”

“I will,” I promise, even though I’m not sure how I’m going to manage it.

When the call ends, I stand staring at the phone in my hand. The weight of the situation presses down on me, heavy and suffocating. I try to take some comfort in David’s words and his advice, but there’s a nagging worry in the back of my head. Even if I’m stable and reliable, will that be enough? I know how much harder it is for fathers to get custody over mothers, and I also know how manipulative and clever Theresa can be. She, no doubt, is planning on using all this against me, despite how confident David is that we can show how damaging to Oliver her actions are. She’s going to flip this against me, and she’s a good enough actress that she’ll be able to convince the court that her version of events is the truth.

Setting my phone down on my desk, I turn and gaze out my window overseeing my backyard again. What am I going to do? I need to figure out some way to ensure I’ll get custody of Oliver. Letting Theresa have him is simply not an option. Sighing, I run a hand through my hair in frustration as I close my eyes, trying to rid myself of the throbbing migraine forming at my temples.

What the hell am I going to do?

The soft buzzing of my phone causes me to groan as I dread the idea of Theresa calling to start more of her drama. Instead of dread filling me when I check the caller ID, my heart practically leaps into my throat at the sight of Haven’s name across the screen.

Is this fate intervening? No… that’s wishful thinking.

Clearing my throat, I let out a heavy breath and answer. “Hello?”

“Hey,” she replies, sounding hesitant. “Um… I was wondering if you and I could talk?”

“Sure.” Crap, do I sound too eager? “Do you want to talk now, or…?”

“Would you mind if I came over?” she asks, catching me slightly off guard.

“Uh—not at all. Oliver’s already in bed, so if you want, you can come over.”

“Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Sounds good… I’ll see you soon.”

She ends the call, and I stand frozen in place, completely baffled. She had made it pretty clear earlier that she didn’t want anything happening between us. And I was fairly sure I’d probably never be able to get her over to my house to even babysit in the future after what happened between us.

Now she suddenly wants to come over?

I can’t help but feel a little eager to clear the air between us. Our conversation at the daycare center this morning didn’t really get anywhere and then after the shit with the paparazzi, it sort of made everything worse. Hopefully, she isn’t coming over to tell me Oliver can’t come there anymore because it isn’t safe or anything.

That would absolutely devastate him. He loves it there.

As much as I want to look forward to this visit with her, I’d be lying if I didn’t feel a bit of nervousness over it.

***

Punctuality must really be something that Haven thrives on because she keeps to her word when twenty minutes later she’s stepping out of her car and making her way to my front door.

“It’s good to see you,” I call out, as she makes her way towards me.

“Hey,” she murmurs softly, with a look of hesitation in her eyes. “Sorry, I know it’s late.”

“Don’t worry,” I reply, stepping aside so she can come into the house. “It’s not too late. Come on into the living room and we’ll talk.”

She nods and silently steps forward, allowing me to follow in behind her as I close the door. She doesn’t need me to show her the way to the living room, and finds a place on the couch as I take a seat next to her. At length, I can’t stand the quiet and I clear my throat.

“So… what did you want to talk about?”

Haven glances up at me with a sigh. Exhaustion fills her gaze as she shakes her head, clearly trying to find the words to what she wants to say. “Honestly, I’m not sure why I came out here.”

“Oh… well, you said you wanted to talk about something. I figured maybe it had something to do with what happened today at the center.”

“Huh?” She stares at me slightly confused before shaking her head again. “No… no, that isn’t it at all. I just… I guess I had a bad day and wanted to be somewhere that wasn’t—I don’t even know.”

The fact that she is clearly having a bad day and wanted to go anywhere and felt that my house was somewhere safe she could retreat to makes me feel some kind of way. I can’t exactly explain it, but a mixture of pride and satisfaction fills me knowing that she wanted to come here out of all places I’m sure she can go.

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