“I want to give him something, namely the middle finger. What twenty-five-year-old do you know that hasn’t had a one-night stand? I didn’t expect him to pick my sex life apart.”
She tugged her hand free and sat back in her chair. She bit the corner of her lip and started moving her own papers around. “I never did.”
Well, that made me even more uncomfortable and also slightly relieved, because if she was using the word “never,” that meant I was absolutely going to get another shot at her and that delectable body. I wanted to tell her I was glad she hadn’t been as careless with herself as I was over the years when the judge was announced again and we had to rise back up as he came back into the room.
My palms started to sweat and I shifted nervously in my seat as the man who was about to say the most important words I had ever heard took his own seat on the bench. He took his glasses off and leaned forward on his arms a little bit. He was staring intently at me and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to squirm under his scrutiny.
“Mr. Fuller, I think you have made tremendous strides in setting your life on the right path in the last few years. I do believe your desire to have custody of your son comes from a sincere and genuine place, but that being said, I have some concerns. The child already went through the trauma of losing one parent, and I’m hesitant to hand him over to another one who has proven and documented anger issues. If you lose control of your temper in such a significant manner again, Mr. Fuller, that opens the child up to the possibility of suffering the loss of another parent.”
I made an involuntary noise of protest, which had the judge holding up his hand before I could launch into an argument.
“I think some time is needed. Time for Hyde to adjust to you being his father and sole caregiver and time for you to realize how significantly a child is going to change your life. I want you to enroll in a level-two parenting class and agree to further anger management counseling, and then we will move toward full custody of the child. For now I’m going to order that you can have four unsupervised visits a week outside of a CASA location. After the initial four weeks have passed, we can move to four overnight visits in your home for another four weeks. We’ll set another court date after the eight weeks have passed to see where we’re at, and I would strongly encourage you to look into attending some family counseling with the boy. The transition is going to be trying on you both, but I ultimately think you are the parent the child deserves, Mr. Fuller.”
His gavel hammered down on the desk and we all stood up as he left the room. I fell back into my chair and ran my hands roughly over my face. I gazed at Sayer and tried to tell what she was thinking about the ruling, but she seemed coolly stoic and nearly impossible to read.
“Did we win?” I breathed the words out and leaned toward her.
She turned to look at me and like the sun parting through the clouds on a rainy day, her face split in a bright smile. It was so sunny and full of light I had no idea how she could come across as chilly as she often did. She was full of warmth when she let it out. When she showed it, it was so electric and blazing that I just wanted to bask in it.
“It’s a lot of work on your part, but yes, the fact that he granted overnight visits right from the get-go is an absolute win. I thought we would be looking at at least six months or more until we reached that point. You were authentic and sincere. He could see how much you love Hyde and that’s all that matters. I’m very proud of you, Zeb.”
I reached out and caught one of her hands between both of mine. She tugged on it, but I refused to let it go as she looked down at me.
“Thank you. I know I tell you every time I see you, but I really couldn’t get through this without you.”
Her smile faltered a little, and when she pulled on her hand this time I had to let it go. I climbed to my feet and followed her out of the courtroom and back out onto the busy sidewalk in front of the building, all the while wondering and being increasingly annoyed that she wasn’t saying anything to me.
When we reached where she had left her Lexus she pulled the driver’s door open and tossed her bag inside while mumbling, “You’d be fine without me, Zeb. You are doing everything you’re supposed to be doing, and anyone with eyes can see you’ll jump through all the hoops the court might ask you to jump through if it means you end up with full custody. There isn’t anyone fighting you for your rights to Hyde, which also makes things a little bit easier to navigate. We have an excellent case. You’ve got this.”
I let a growl slip out from between my teeth at her flippant tone and nonchalant attitude. Everything about her body language and words screamed that she was having this conversation with her client, not with me.
“No, we’ve got this.” I stepped around her door and crowded her into the opening of the car. I put my hands on the roof on either side of her shoulders, caging her between my arms and forcing her to look up at me as she reflexively put her hands on the center of my chest. “No one else would keep me as calm, would tell me to just be honest and myself with the judge, and believe that was enough. No one else would tell the court that I was the best option for Hyde and mean it like you do. No one else in the system cares if that boy ends up with me or not like you, Sayer. I couldn’t do this with anyone besides you. It’s as much your fight as it is mine and you’re lying to yourself if you think any different.” No one else simply believed in me like she did. Why couldn’t she see how desperately I needed that?
“Zeb . . .” She said my name like she was gearing up for one of her lawyerly rebuttals, and since I refused to have her put more walls and more space between us than she already had, I stopped the protest forming on her lips with my own. I bent my head the few inches I needed to quiet her reservations with my own type of persuasion.
At the first brush of my tongue against the rigid seam of her lips, she stiffened, but it only took a little more probing and leaning into her more fully to get her to open up. Her hands slid around my sides and curled into the fabric of my shirt as I twisted my tongue around hers and devoured every reservation she might have about how important me and my son might or might not be to her. There wasn’t any kind of clinically cool detachment to be found as she reverently kissed me back and tilted her head slightly to the side so I could get a better taste. She wasn’t kissing her client. Hell no, she was kissing me, and she was loving every single second of it.