“I might punch him when I see him,” I admit, then reel back, shaking my head. “I don’t want to see him.”
“You don’t have to. Just because he’s here, it doesn’t mean you have to see him.”
“He won’t leave. He’ll find some way to sneak up on me and talk. He’s always been like that. He won’t give me any space until he gets what he wants.”
“What do you think he wants?” Jason questions.
I shake my head into his chest. “I don’t know.” I’m holding back tears now, because I don’t understand. Three years. He’s been gone without a word for three years, not caring about me or our daughter. A realization strikes me. “What if he tries to take Presley from me? Can he do that?”
“No,” Jason states. He squeezes me tighter. “We won’t let him. He doesn’t deserve any time with her. He waived his rights to custody, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but what if he tries to get custody? He didn’t give up his parental rights, so what then? That’s a long legal battle that I don’t want to deal with.” I start to cry into Jason’s chest.He can’t take her.
“I will be by your side every step of the way. If you want me there to talk to him, I will. If you want to avoid him and only talk to him with the lawyers, that’s what we will do. You tell me what you need, Fallon.”
“I don’t know what I need,” I sob. “I’m overwhelmed. I don’t want any of this. I want it to go away. I was happy. I was living my life. Things are good. Why now?”
Jason holds me, letting me cry into him. I appreciate it. He doesn’t offer false hope or a false narrative. He simply lets me get my emotions out. I’m scared. How could I not be? Sure, Brad was never physically abusive to Presley or me, but he hurt me in so many other ways, ways that I’m still trying to work through.
As if he knew Jason told me to expect his call, my phone starts to ring in my pocket. I pull it out, cringing when I see Brad’s name on the screen. Stupidly, I never blocked his number. Back then, I had hope that maybe he’d come to his senses and come back and be a father to Pres. Then, I forgot.
“I don’t want to do this,” I reiterate, shoving the phone into Jase’s palm. I step away, threading my fingersthrough my hair at my scalp, pulling at the strands. I need some sort of pain, something to distract me from this all-consuming anxiety currently eating me.
Jason silences the call. He sets my phone on the hood of his car, coming to my side and pulling me into him. He takes my hands from my hair, resting them on his chest. I curl my fingers in his shirt, squeezing the fabric tightly.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say, repeating my earlier sentiments yet again. “How do I do this? What does he want?”
At this point, Jason’s letting me get my thoughts out, letting me rage. He doesn’t stop me, or tell me it’s all going to be okay, because he can’t promise me that. He can’t promise me anything right now. What he can do, he’s doing. He holds me against him, rubbing my back, my head, my shoulders. “I’m here for you,” he repeats, over and over.
When my phone rings again, I lean back from Jason, taking his hand in mine. “Don’t leave my side,” I ask him.
“Never.”
I take a fortifying breath and grab my phone from the hood of his car. Brad’s name is on the screen, unsurprisingly. I swipe to answer the call, and turn it on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Fallon, so great of you to pick up,” Brad says in a condescending tone.
“What do you need, Brad?” I get right to the point. Hearing his voice for the first time in three years is like a shot to my gut. Unwarranted, unwanted, and painful as hell.
“I was hoping we could get dinner.”
“No,” I state coldly. “Try again. What do you want? You suddenly appear after three years of no contact? What do you want?” I’m surprising myself with the sudden level ofconfidence I’m bringing to this call, but I’m not mad about it. Jason squeezes my hand, offering his steadfast support.
“Fine. I wanted to talk to you about things. We didn’t leave off on good terms, and I’d like to change that. I would like to see Presley. I also have some things I would like to discuss with you.”
A shudder rolls through my body. I don’t want this. I want to live my life with my daughter, and Jason and his daughter. I don’t want this interference from him.
“No. First, you and I can meet, with a third party present. Then, we can discuss things, and the potential of you seeing Presley. I’m not going to bring you back into her life, only for you to decide you don’t want her again and leave without another goodbye.”
“I never said I didn’t want?—”
I interrupt him. “Like I said. We can meet with a third party present. Otherwise, we will go through the lawyers. Don’t mess with me on this, Brad.”
I will do whatever it takes to protect my daughter.
“Let me guess, that third party is Jason Cunningham?” Brad sneers. Before I can respond, he continues. “Fine, but I get to bring my wife if you get to bring your… Jason.”
