“Okay, that’s enough,” the mediator said. I was sure it was clear to her as it was to me that this wasn’t going to work.
“You’re a bastard, Dylan,” Veronica spat.
“You’re the one that said you wanted to take this to the media. Of course, you probably didn’t consider that Maisie would see and hear all of it. That you’d hurt her by attacking me.”
Veronica leaned forward and pointed her finger. “You were ready to attack me too.”
“What I said was the truth. The truth Maisie knows, because she’s lived it. She knows you haven’t visited. That you missed her birthday.”
In the end, it was clear we’d be back in court. Now more than ever, I didn’t want Maisie going to Veronica’s. While Maisie hadn’t said anything to indicate Veronica was trying to poison her against me, the issue was escalating, and I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t. I also wasn’t sure she wouldn’t try to abscond with Maisie.
But my lawyer said to continue visits as usual so as not to look like an asshole. I was beginning to miss my inner asshole.
I suppose it was Leo’s connections that had our next court date set fairly quickly after our failed mediation. It was clear that the intention for this appearance was that Veronica wanted more visitation. Because we were back to showing off stable two-parent families, Leo was with Veronica and Tessa was with me.
“Has Mr. Hyatt denied any visits?” the judge asked Veronica’s attorney.
“No, your honor, but she’d like something more official. As you know, custody cases can get contentious, and she doesn’t want to lose visits.”
“My client has never denied or threatened to deny visits,” my lawyer said. That wasn’t true. I just hadn’t threatened Veronica with denying visits.
“I don’t see any reason why Mrs. Baskin shouldn’t have established visitation.”
Fuck.
“She’d like to take Maisie for longer than weekends. It’s summer, and she’d like to have Maisie for a month,” her lawyer said.
“No,” I said under my breath.
“Maisie has never been away from her father for more than three days,” my lawyer said, putting his hand on my arm to quiet me. “Perhaps we can start with a week.”
“Mrs. Baskin is Maisie’s mother—” the other lawyer started.
“This isn’t about Mrs. Baskin or Mr. Hyatt,” my lawyer interjected. “It’s about Maisie. She’s a five-year-old girl who has only lived with her father. Give her time to adjust.”
I liked the little swipe by saying Maisie only knew me, but I didn’t like giving in to longer visits.
“I agree,” the judge said. “Mrs. Baskin will have a week-long visit, and if that goes well, we’ll look at extending it.” Then she looked at her docket for setting the next hearing. Why was this taking so fucking long?
On the way home, I seethed to Tessa. “Why does Veronica get a second chance? Why doesn’t anyone give a shit that I was the one who stuck around while Veronica selfishly flitted around the world?”
“I know it seems unfair—”
“It is unfair. Fuck.” I hit the steering wheel.
Tessa was quiet. I looked at her and could tell she was having a thought I wouldn’t like.
“What?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“No. I want to know. Do you think I’m being an asshole?”
“No. I just think …” She didn’t finish.
“Think what?” I prodded.
She sighed. “Your lawyer said it. This is about Maisie and what’s best for her.”
I did a double take. “You think Veronica is best?”
“No! God, no. What I think, though, is that Maisie knows Veronica is her mother. She loves her. It could be a benefit to Maisie to spend more time with her and get to know her.”
Rage roared up inside me. So much so that at first, it just boiled up, building in my chest until finally, it let loose. “This is none of your fucking business, Tessa.”
“It’s partly my business, because we’re married and I’m trying to help—”
“What we have is an arrangement. I’m paying for you to help me keep Maisie, not to be a part of decision making for her.”
Tessa jerked back like I’d slapped her. I knew I should feel bad about it, but I didn’t. She was supposed to be on my side, dammit.
She turned her head to look out the window.
Good. She got the memo. Maisie was my kid.
If I’d thought things were a little distant before, I could feel a definite cold shoulder after that. But I couldn’t worry about it. Nothing, not even the wife I wished I could keep, would get in the way of my fighting for Maisie.
19
Tessa
He was right. I was a tool to help in his custody case. I had no rights where Maisie was concerned. But that didn’t stop the pain I felt at his outburst. The pain was followed by the usual feelings of stupidity. No matter how often I reminded myself that our marriage was fake, I kept forgetting. Everything else seemed real, even though he didn’t touch me anymore. We interacted as a family, and for me, my feelings for him and Maisie were real.
But I couldn’t let my wish for something more get in the way of the goal, which was to make sure he kept custody of Maisie. So as much as he hurt me, as much as I wanted to be angry at him, I had to push that all aside the following week when a court appointed worker showed up to interview us.
The woman was only a few years older than me. She looked kind and competent, not like the social workers depicted on TV who were always cold toward and suspicious toward the people they had to talk to.
“Along with meeting with you and observing you with Maisie, I’ll be talking to others in your lives, such as Maisie’s teacher, doctors, childcare—”
“Tessa is Maisie’s childcare,” Dylan said.
While I didn’t think he meant it to be hurtful, it was. It felt like I was relegated to babysitter again.
“So, you’re a full-time at
