I just have to think about what to do going forward.
Marty is the best thing to ever happen to me but I don’t want to be with him if I can’t be the same for him. It’s not fair, and for the first time, I don’t want to be selfish. Brenna always put herself first, and I refuse to do that to him.
He deserves better.
* * *
We meetwith Marty’s lawyer that week, and I spend a few hours defending myself and every bad thing I’ve ever done. Marty is as loving and supportive as ever, but it still leaves me feeling emotionally fragile. Weak. Like I’m going backward in my recovery. I know Marty feels bad—he says it at least a dozen times—but I hate being in this position almost as much as I hate putting him in the position of having to fight an extra battle to do with his kids.
He misses them so much, I know he’s struggling.
Hockey season is about to start too, so this is the last thing he needs.
“Thank you for coming in today, Ms. Marchand,” Luke says to me as we finish up. “You’ve cleared up a lot of misconceptions, so I think this will be a non-issue when we talk to the judge tomorrow.”
I nod. “Of course. Whatever you need from me to make this go away.”
“I’ll do my best.” He rummages through some papers. “My last question for you is your relationship with Cassius Robertson.”
I blink. “I have no idea who that is.”
He frowns. “This is a picture of you with him.” He holds up the photo of me with L’il Barracuda that night in New York.
“Oh. You mean L’il Barracuda. I forgot his real name is Cassius.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Knock it off, Luke.” Marty’s voice is quiet but I can tell he’s annoyed.
“These are questions the judge and Brenna’s lawyer are going to ask.”
“What on earth does he have to do with anything?” Marty asks, irritation written all over his face.
“The fact that she hangs out with a known felon.”
“A felon?” I stare in disbelief. “What did he do? I didn’t know anything about that—and I don’t hang out with him. It was just the one time. He was eating at a restaurant where I was and invited my friend and I to eat with him.”
“Nonetheless.” He looks down at his notepad. “Gang affiliation before he found success as a rapper. Gun charges in New York and L.A.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know anything about that. We’ve been in the same room together literally a handful of times. Ever. Once when I met him, filming a music video, and then that night at dinner. I haven’t talked to him since.”
“I see.”
It doesn’t sound like he sees anything.
“Stevie isn’t on trial,” Marty says flatly.
“No, but it will feel like it if Brenna pursues this.”
“Then I want to file a corresponding restraining order on Phil,” Marty says bluntly.
Luke sighs.
“I think this will just seem retaliatory to the judge.”
“It is.” Marty leans forward. “We talked about this the other day. Make it go away or I’m happy to make her life as miserable as she’s making mine. I’m also willing to find an attorney who wants to get down and dirty in the trenches.”
“Look, I know you feel strongly about this but I told you from the beginning that judges aren’t likely to take custody away from the mother. Now that you’ve added a problematic girlfriend to the mix?—”
