“You didn’t fuck up. You made the best choice you could in a shitty-ass situation.”
Wordlessly, she stands and heads inside her house, and I follow her in, my mind reeling with everything. While she goes about pulling out some luggage from a hall closet, I pull my phone out and text my dad. I don’t want to say anything to her because I don’t know for sure, but one of his best friends is actually a judge here, and if anyone can help us, it’s him. I quickly explain what her attorney said and what she’s planning to do since he already knows what happened with Layla and Felix earlier today—I told him when I went over there for dinner, needing to talk to someone about it all.
Dad: Give me a few minutes.
I put my phone away and follow Layla into her bedroom as she pulls clothes out from her drawers. I want to stop her, tell her to think about this, but I don’t because I know she feels completely helpless and is in mama bear mode. I’ve seen my mom in it many times over the years, and there’s no arguing with her when she’s like that. Based on the determined look in Layla’s features, I imagine it’s the same for her.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
When her phone sounds again, Layla stops what she’s doing and goes to the bathroom. I don’t know why I follow her, but I do. It’s not like she’s going to disappear right this second. She presses a button on a gadget that’s sitting on the sink, and a couple of pills drop into her hand.
“What’s that?”
“My mom bought it for my birthday,” she says. “I have a horrible memory and forget to take my pills, so it’s synced with my phone to remind me. It’ll keep going off every few minutes until I take them.” She fills her cup with water and downs the pills. “It’s my birth control and an iron supplement because I’m at risk for anemia.”
I press the button, but nothing happens.
“It’s not a candy dispenser,” she says with a laugh. “It only dispenses when it’s supposed to.”
“What do you do when you’re traveling?”
“You can select the days you’re traveling, and it will dispense it ahead of time so you can take them with you. The app will still remind me.”
“That’s pretty cool. My grandma is always complaining about my grandpa forgetting to take his heart medication. I should buy him one.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I pull it out.
Dad: Daniel said to call him. I can’t make any promises.
I click on the number he’s included and walk out of the room, so Layla won’t hear me. After a couple of rings, he answers. “Camden, how are you, son?”
Daniel Maxwell was my family’s attorney in LA before he moved to the East Coast and eventually became one of the most powerful judges in New York. I’m not sure how it all works, but from what I’ve heard over the years, he’s really high up there.
“I’m okay. Just… fuck. I’m assuming my dad filled you in?”
“He did. I normally don’t do this sort of thing, but I have a soft spot for women in abusive relationships, especially when children are involved. Send me over the police reports filed and all of her information and give me twenty-four hours.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” Layla says to me, tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you!” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly, and I breathe in her comforting scent. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“There’s nothing to repay.” I tilt her chin up and kiss her supple lips. “I would do anything for you and Felix.”
More tears fill her eyes. “Thank you.”
I take her hand in mine, and we walk out of the courthouse. Daniel came through big time. Not only was Layla given emergency temporary custody, but David has to attend six months of anger management and therapy, and the only way he can see Felix is with a social worker for supervised visits, one day a week in a public place. The judge will reassess after the six months are up and he’s met with a court-appointed psychologist to be reevaluated. He’s also not allowed to go within five hundred feet of Layla. And all of that was done in seventy-two hours before David could pick up Felix for his scheduled night.
“I really hope David gets the help he needs,” she says as we step outside and walk over to my waiting car. “We never had the perfect relationship, but he wasn’t always like this.”
I love and hate that she’s defending him. The fact that she sees the best in everyone and, despite the shit he’s pulled, wants him to get better shows what a good person she is. But it also makes me feel like a shitty person because I’d rather David be given a death sentence for what he’s done to her than a second chance.