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 home parent?”
I nodded.
“You and Mr. Hyatt haven’t been married very long. In fact, it looks like you married after you were served papers about the custody.” She didn’t say it, but her tone indicated she found that suspicious.
“Tessa and I were dating a year and were engaged when Veronica showed up again.”
I hoped the woman didn’t ask my roommates or parents about that. No one could verify our story because of course, it wasn’t true.
“And you were the babysitter before that?”
“I met Dylan when I moved in next door,” I started.
“I was immediately smitten,” he said taking my hand. If only that were true.
“As it turned out, I worked at Maisie’s school too, so it all happened together … my being her sitter and Dylan’s girlfriend.” The lie sat at the pit of my stomach making me nauseous. In fact, this whole situation over the last couple of weeks made me sick. I loved him and Maisie, and I wanted to help them, but the stress of the situation and the tension growing between me and Dylan was difficult to manage. Because I had to portray a loving marriage, I had to keep all those emotions inside, and clearly, they were starting to impact my physical health.
“So, will you be working again?”
“No.”