Chapter 9: What Adam Said
I almost didn't answer.
I was sitting on the edge of the guest bed with Nell asleep in the bassinet beside me, and I watched his name on the screen for four rings before I picked up.
Not because I wanted to hear what he had to say.
Because I knew that whatever he said tonight, I needed to hear it clearly.
"I'm listening," I said.
A long pause.
I could hear him breathing.
"I ended it," he said.
"With Savannah.
Three days ago.
I told her it was over and that I wouldn't be in contact."
I said nothing.
"I know that doesn't fix anything.
I know that's not — I'm not saying it to ask for something.
I just wanted you to know."
"Why are you telling me at nine forty-seven on a Sunday night, Adam?"
"Because the deposition is tomorrow and I don't want—" He stopped.
Started again.
"I didn't know she was calling people.
Bernice, your reference, my mother.
I didn't know she was doing that."
"You told her I moved to Bernice's house."
Silence.
"You told her I had a fever," I said.
"You kept her informed about my situation while you weren't answering my calls.
You may not have known every call she made, but you gave her the information she needed to make them."
"I know." His voice had gone very quiet.
"I know I did."
I waited.
"Marina, I'm asking you—" He stopped again.
I could hear him trying to find a version of the sentence that would work, and not finding it.
"I'm asking you not to take Nell from me."
There it was.
"I'm not taking Nell from you," I said.
"I never was.
That was your petition, Adam.
That was your father's lawyer.
That was the document that called me unstable and asked for supervised visitation." My voice stayed level.
"I filed for interim custody because you filed first and described me as a danger to my own daughter."
"I know.
That was—" A breath.
"My father arranged that.
He and Phillip Crane.
I didn't read it carefully before it was filed.
I know how that sounds."
"It sounds like you let your father and your girlfriend build a legal case against your wife while you were deciding whether to end the affair."
He didn't answer.
"Adam." I looked at Nell's face in the dark.
"You have a daughter who is six weeks old.
She has never slept in her own home.
She has spent her entire life in a borrowed room because her father left three days after her birth and then spent twenty days deciding what he actually wanted." I paused.
"I am not your enemy.
I am the person who has been keeping Nell alive while you figured yourself out.
What I need from you is not a phone call at nine forty-seven.
What I need is for you to call Phillip Crane first thing tomorrow morning and withdraw the petition."
A very long silence.
"And if I do that?"
"Then we talk.
Through lawyers first, then in person if it's productive.
About custody, about the house, about what a reasonable arrangement looks like for Nell." I kept my voice even.
"But I will not negotiate under a filing that calls me unstable.
That comes down first."
"Savannah—"
"I don't want to talk about Savannah," I said.
"She's not part of this conversation."
"She told me you were falling apart.
That you couldn't handle things.
She made it sound like—"
"Like I needed to be managed," I said.
"Yes.
I know what she made it sound like.
I have three recordings of her doing it."
Silence.
Then: "Three recordings."
"Bernice kept them."
Another silence.
Longer.
"I didn't know," he said finally.
And for the first time that night, I believed him — not about everything, not about the affair or the leaving or the twenty days, but about this specific thing.
He hadn't known about the recordings.
He had thought Savannah's calls to Bernice were private.
He had thought the case they were building was invisible.
"Call Phillip Crane in the morning," I said.
"That's all I have to say tonight."
I ended the call.
I sat in the dark for a moment.
Nell breathed steadily beside me.
Outside, a car passed on the street and its headlights moved across the ceiling and were gone.
I picked up my phone and texted Claire.
*Adam called.
Said he ended things with Savannah.
Said he didn't know about the calls to Bernice.
Said his father arranged the filing.
I told him to withdraw the petition tomorrow morning or the deposition proceeds.*
Her reply came back in four minutes.
*Good.
Let him.
If he withdraws, we negotiate from strength.
If he doesn't, the deposition speaks for itself.
Either way, you're in the better position.
Get some sleep.*
I set the phone down.
The deposition was at nine.
Bernice had already confirmed.
Dara had already confirmed.
Ruth had already sent her written statement.
May you like
I looked at my daughter.
Whatever Adam decided by morning, I was ready.
