Chapter 8: What He Brought Back
Conrad arrived before Alaric did.
He came in, set his bag on the table, and stood where he could see both the front door and the kitchen.
Petra made more coffee.
Nobody spoke much.
The babies cycled through their morning routines — feeding, sleeping, small sounds — and I moved between them on autopilot while the clock on the wall marked every minute Alaric was gone.
At eleven-fifteen, the front door opened.
Alaric came in.
He was carrying a manila envelope, thick, sealed with a metal clasp.
He set it on the kitchen table without being asked.
"Everything," he said.
"The property transfer, the second guardianship draft, and the correspondence between me and the attorney going back eight months."
Conrad picked it up.
"Eight months," I said.
"Yes."
"You started planning this eight months ago.
When I was three months pregnant."
Alaric sat down at the table.
He looked exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with last night's sleep.
"She pushed for it earlier than that," he said.
"I kept putting it off.
Eight months ago I stopped putting it off."
"Why?"
"Because she gave me an ultimatum.
Either I committed to a plan or she was done."
"And you chose the plan."
"I chose wrong." He looked at the envelope in Conrad's hands.
"I know that's not enough.
I'm not saying it to ask for anything.
I just—" He stopped.
"I need you to know it wasn't easy for me.
Even when I was doing it."
"It wasn't easy," I repeated.
"No."
"Alaric.
I was on bed rest.
I was terrified every single day that something would go wrong.
I used to lie there and count the babies moving and pray and you were in this house planning how to remove me from my own children's lives." I set Luke down in the bouncer.
"So I'm sorry, but I don't have room right now for how hard it was for you."
He nodded.
He didn't argue.
Conrad opened the envelope and began reading.
The kitchen was quiet except for the sound of pages turning.
After several minutes, he looked up.
"The property transfer document is here.
Unsigned by Nevaeh, as expected." He set it aside.
"The second guardianship draft goes further than the first.
It would have named Alaric and—" He glanced at Alaric.
"What is her name?"
"Diane," Alaric said.
"It would have named Alaric and Diane as co-guardians.
Nevaeh would have had supervised visitation.
Two hours per week."
Petra set her coffee cup down on the counter.
Hard.
Two hours a week.
I had spent eleven years trying to become a mother and the plan had been to give me two hours a week.
"The correspondence," Conrad continued, "includes emails between Alaric and his attorney detailing the timeline.
The plan was to present Nevaeh with the guardianship document on the day she came home from the hospital, after the property transfer was signed." He looked at me.
"The insurance form was step one.
The property transfer was step two.
The guardianship document was step three."
"He needed me out of the house before he handed me the guardianship paper," I said.
"So I'd have nowhere to go when I refused."
"That's how I read it."
I looked at Alaric.
"Two hours a week," I said.
He didn't answer.
"That's what you thought of me.
After everything." My voice was steady.
I had moved past the place where it would shake.
"Two hours."
He put his face in his hands.
Conrad closed the envelope.
"I'm going to need to make some calls.
There's enough here for the voiding motion and potentially more, depending on how the attorney's withdrawal is documented." He looked at Petra.
"Can you stay with her today?"
"I'm not leaving," Petra said.
Conrad picked up his bag.
At the door he turned back.
"Alaric.
I'd strongly suggest you find new legal representation today.
Because what's in that envelope is going to be part of a court filing by end of week, and you want someone in your corner before that happens."
Alaric didn't look up.
Conrad left.
The house was very quiet.
Then Alaric lifted his head and said the thing I had not expected.
"I want to tell you about Diane.
Not to explain.
Just — I think you deserve to know the whole truth.
All of it.
From the beginning."
May you like
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Start talking," I said.
