I hate that she so easily dismisses the notion. She turns to walk out the door, and I look at Trey, who is still eyeing me. He knows I’m up to something, and my confidence is scaring him.
“Trey,” I say to him, just as Lydia reaches the door. “Tell your mother we aren’t finished yet.”
Trey’s jaw grows tight, and his eyes narrow in my direction. He says nothing to Lydia, but he doesn’t have to. Lydia turns and faces me, and then moves her focus to Trey. Trey won’t look at her because he’s too busy trying to threaten me with his glare, so she looks back at me. “What’s going on, Auburn? Why are you doing this?”
I choose not to respond to her. Instead, I place my phone on the table. I open up the file, and I press play.
“You think I’m just going to forget the fact that you attacked me? That you destroyed Owen’s studio? That you’re framing him?”
I pause the recording and watch as all the color drains from Trey’s face. I can almost hear his thoughts, they’re written so clearly across his face. He’s trying to think back on last night and what he might have said to Owen or me on the way to the police station. Because he knows whatever was spoken inside that vehicle, I now have it on my phone as evidence.
He doesn’t move a muscle, other than tensing his arms and shoulders. “Should I play the rest of our conversation from last night, Trey?”
He closes his eyes and looks down at the floor. He lifts his leg and kicks the chair in front of him. “Fuck!” he yells.
Lydia flinches. She’s looking back and forth between Trey and me, but he doesn’t look at anything other than the floor. He’s pacing back and forth.
He knows his entire career is in my hands now.
And the fact that Lydia is sitting down again proves that she realizes it, too. She’s staring at my phone with a look of defeat, and as much as I want to say her expression pleases me, it doesn’t. I never wanted it to come to this.
“I’ll stay in Dallas,” I tell her. “I won’t move back to Portland. You can still see him. As long as you aren’t living in the same house as Trey, I’ll even give you weekend visitation. But he’s my son, Lydia. He needs to be with me. And if I have to use your son against you in order to get my son back, then so help me God, I will.”
Cal pushes the paperwork toward her. I lean forward across the table, and for the first time in my life, I’m not scared of the woman sitting across from me.
“If you sign the custody papers and Trey drops the charges against Owen, I won’t forward the e-mail that contains this conversation to every single officer in Trey’s precinct.”
Before Lydia picks up the pen, she turns and looks at Trey. “If that happens and someone gets hold of whatever she has on that recording . . . will it affect your career? Is she telling the truth, Trey?”
Trey pauses his frantic pacing, and he looks directly at me. He nods a slow nod but can’t even verbalize a response to her. Lydia’s eyes close, and she exhales.
The choice is in her hands. Either she can allow me to be a mother to my son, or I’ll make sure her son pays for what he’s done to Owen. For what he almost did to me.
“You realize this is blackmail,” Trey says.
I look up at him and nod calmly. “I learned from the best.”
The room grows quiet, and I can almost hear him trying to come up with a way out of this. When Trey doesn’t offer up an alternative, and Lydia realizes they have no choice, she picks up the pen. She signs each form and then pushes them across the table toward me.
I try to remain calm, but my hands are shaking as I hand the paperwork to Cal. Lydia stands up and walks to the door. Before she exits the room, she looks back at me. I can tell she’s on the verge of tears, but her tears are nothing compared to the tears I’ve shed because of her. “I’ll pick him up from preschool on my way home. You can stop by in a few hours. It’ll give me time to get some of his things together.”
I nod, unable to speak due to the sob I’m keeping lodged in my throat. As soon as the door closes behind Lydia and Trey, I burst into tears.
Cal puts an arm around me and pulls me to him. “Thank you,” I say. “Oh my God, thank you so much.”
I feel him shake his head. “No, Auburn. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
He doesn’t elaborate on why he’s thanking me, but I can’t help but hope that somehow, seeing the sacrifices his son has made for both of us will give him the strength to do what he needs to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Owen
When I walk into the room and see my father’s face rather than Auburn’s, my heart sinks. I haven’t seen or spoken to her in over twenty-four hours. I have no idea what’s transpired or if she’s even okay.
I take a seat in front of my father, not even concerned with whatever it is he wants to discuss with me. “Do you know where Auburn is? Is she okay?”
He nods. “She’s fine,” he says, and those words instantly put me at ease. “All the charges against you have been dropped. You’re free to leave.”
I don’t move, because I’m not sure I understood him correctly. The door opens and someone enters the room. The officer motions for me to stand and when I do, he removes the cuffs from my wrists. “Do you have any belongings you need to retrieve before you leave?”
“My wallet,” I say as I massage my wrists.
“When you’re finished in here, let me know and I’ll sign you out.”
“Trey,” I say to him, just as Lydia reaches the door. “Tell your mother we aren’t finished yet.”
Trey’s jaw grows tight, and his eyes narrow in my direction. He says nothing to Lydia, but he doesn’t have to. Lydia turns and faces me, and then moves her focus to Trey. Trey won’t look at her because he’s too busy trying to threaten me with his glare, so she looks back at me. “What’s going on, Auburn? Why are you doing this?”
I choose not to respond to her. Instead, I place my phone on the table. I open up the file, and I press play.
“You think I’m just going to forget the fact that you attacked me? That you destroyed Owen’s studio? That you’re framing him?”
I pause the recording and watch as all the color drains from Trey’s face. I can almost hear his thoughts, they’re written so clearly across his face. He’s trying to think back on last night and what he might have said to Owen or me on the way to the police station. Because he knows whatever was spoken inside that vehicle, I now have it on my phone as evidence.
He doesn’t move a muscle, other than tensing his arms and shoulders. “Should I play the rest of our conversation from last night, Trey?”
He closes his eyes and looks down at the floor. He lifts his leg and kicks the chair in front of him. “Fuck!” he yells.
Lydia flinches. She’s looking back and forth between Trey and me, but he doesn’t look at anything other than the floor. He’s pacing back and forth.
He knows his entire career is in my hands now.
And the fact that Lydia is sitting down again proves that she realizes it, too. She’s staring at my phone with a look of defeat, and as much as I want to say her expression pleases me, it doesn’t. I never wanted it to come to this.
“I’ll stay in Dallas,” I tell her. “I won’t move back to Portland. You can still see him. As long as you aren’t living in the same house as Trey, I’ll even give you weekend visitation. But he’s my son, Lydia. He needs to be with me. And if I have to use your son against you in order to get my son back, then so help me God, I will.”
Cal pushes the paperwork toward her. I lean forward across the table, and for the first time in my life, I’m not scared of the woman sitting across from me.
“If you sign the custody papers and Trey drops the charges against Owen, I won’t forward the e-mail that contains this conversation to every single officer in Trey’s precinct.”
Before Lydia picks up the pen, she turns and looks at Trey. “If that happens and someone gets hold of whatever she has on that recording . . . will it affect your career? Is she telling the truth, Trey?”
Trey pauses his frantic pacing, and he looks directly at me. He nods a slow nod but can’t even verbalize a response to her. Lydia’s eyes close, and she exhales.
The choice is in her hands. Either she can allow me to be a mother to my son, or I’ll make sure her son pays for what he’s done to Owen. For what he almost did to me.
“You realize this is blackmail,” Trey says.
I look up at him and nod calmly. “I learned from the best.”
The room grows quiet, and I can almost hear him trying to come up with a way out of this. When Trey doesn’t offer up an alternative, and Lydia realizes they have no choice, she picks up the pen. She signs each form and then pushes them across the table toward me.
I try to remain calm, but my hands are shaking as I hand the paperwork to Cal. Lydia stands up and walks to the door. Before she exits the room, she looks back at me. I can tell she’s on the verge of tears, but her tears are nothing compared to the tears I’ve shed because of her. “I’ll pick him up from preschool on my way home. You can stop by in a few hours. It’ll give me time to get some of his things together.”
I nod, unable to speak due to the sob I’m keeping lodged in my throat. As soon as the door closes behind Lydia and Trey, I burst into tears.
Cal puts an arm around me and pulls me to him. “Thank you,” I say. “Oh my God, thank you so much.”
I feel him shake his head. “No, Auburn. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
He doesn’t elaborate on why he’s thanking me, but I can’t help but hope that somehow, seeing the sacrifices his son has made for both of us will give him the strength to do what he needs to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Owen
When I walk into the room and see my father’s face rather than Auburn’s, my heart sinks. I haven’t seen or spoken to her in over twenty-four hours. I have no idea what’s transpired or if she’s even okay.
I take a seat in front of my father, not even concerned with whatever it is he wants to discuss with me. “Do you know where Auburn is? Is she okay?”
He nods. “She’s fine,” he says, and those words instantly put me at ease. “All the charges against you have been dropped. You’re free to leave.”
I don’t move, because I’m not sure I understood him correctly. The door opens and someone enters the room. The officer motions for me to stand and when I do, he removes the cuffs from my wrists. “Do you have any belongings you need to retrieve before you leave?”
“My wallet,” I say as I massage my wrists.
“When you’re finished in here, let me know and I’ll sign you out.”
