it going to be Verity Brassard, no middle name?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her if she would allow her to be Baby Chadwick. I want her to be mine too.
“What’s up with that frown?”
She shakes her head.
“Nyx?”
She’s playing with pendant I gave her on New Year’s Day. It’s become a habit of hers to play with it when she’s anxious.
“Is it wrong to want her to be Chadwick…but then I panic when the answer is that she will most likely have to be a Bryant too,” she mumbles, and I wish I was there with her.
“We promised we wouldn’t think about it.”
Her eyes look up at me and they start watering. “I can’t lose her.”
“We’re not losing her, Nyx,” I assure her, but fuck if this isn’t killing me because I don’t even know if I’m just lying to myself.
All I know is that I can’t lose another kid. And I can’t stand thinking what’s going to happen to Nyx if we do. “But she’ll stop talking to you if you continue picking shitty names for her. Now, if you allow her to be a Chadwick, I’d be honored.”
“What was your grandma’s name?” she whispers, and fuck if she’s not losing her strength today.
“Gladys, and as much as I love her, I won’t let you name our baby that.”
She smiles.
“What?”
“I really wish you were…” her voice trails.
Her dad. She doesn’t finish the sentence.
“If you allow me, I’ll be the best Dad she’ll ever have,” I promise.
Fucking Edward. If Pierce hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve been at his office breaking every bone in his body. The guy is a fucking weasel. We could drag his ass to jail. I have to be careful and patient. In the meantime, he’s breaking Nyx. Not because she can’t fight, but because he’s using the baby to get to her.
Around midnight, she falls asleep. I keep the phone on because that’s the only way I can be with her.
The weeks go by too fast and not fast enough.
On her thirty-sixth week, I am officially working from home. The doctor says the baby can be born any day starting the thirty-eighth week, but with the blueberry demon, one can’t be sure. She does whatever she wants.
Edward’s lawyer requested the judge make Nyx surrender the baby when she’s born. Fortunately, the judge shut him down, telling him that if he wants to see his child he has to travel to Washington. If he wants visitations, he needs to have a place here. Also, he can’t have her visit him at his address when she’s dependent on her mother. We start to panic when he arrives at my house, demanding to see the baby—who hasn’t been born. He is buying a property in the area, plus his lawyer is submitting new documentation that would try to prove Nyx isn’t suited to raise the baby.
“Thirty-eight weeks, two days and I have to be at an emergency hearing,” Nyx complains staring at her swollen belly.
On a Monday morning we are in a conference room with the family judge, Edward, his lawyer, who happens to be Sarah Bryant, Pierce, who represents Nyx, and Nyx too.
“Pierce, I wasn’t told you’d be here,” Sarah glares at him.
“I want to make sure this doesn’t go on for much longer, Mother,” he answers and then looks at Edward. “I hope this was worth the effort.”
“It is, Son,” she assures him.
“That’s his mother?” I ask, almost wanting to slice the tension between them with a knife. “Talk about family drama.”
Nyx sighs. “You have no idea.”
A couple of people enter the room at Pierce’s request and then he asks us to leave.
“I need to stay,” Nyx insists.
“Trust me.” Pierce waves his hand toward the door. “I rather you just get good news once I’m done with them.”
We walk out and stand outside the room.
“What do you think is happening in there?” I ask.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Pierce has been having a lot of issues with his family, and shutting down their firm is one of his goals. Now, we’re in a different state so I don’t know what he is trying to do.”
“The baby isn’t born yet. Can they even claim custody?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what proof they have against me,” she answers, her hands are trembling. “But they are good at tampering with evidence—”
“Hey, we need to calm down,” I say. “Deep breaths.”
She does some breathing exercises while rubbing her back.
“Are you okay? You keep touching your lower back.”
“I’ve