Say It's Not Fake - Sarah J. Brooks Page 0,83

Katie was enough for me. That my love for her was all I needed. I hadn’t realized what I was missing until Whitney walked back into my life.

Mr. Struthers smiled warmly. “It looks as if you have created a lovely home for Katie, Mr. Webber—”

“Please call me Kyle, Mr. Webber is my dad.” I laughed, and Mr. Struthers laughed too.

“Kyle then. It’s clear that Katie is well cared for and loved. I’m impressed with her development. According to her medical records, she’s well above the curve for her age.”

“She was talking at fourteen months. Understandable words. She learns something new every day. She’s even learning to count now,” Whitney cut in, obviously proud.

It was my turn to squeeze her hand. Mr. Struthers made some more notes.

“So, what are the next steps?” I asked him.

Mr. Struthers closed his file and clicked his pen, tucking it into his pocket. “I’ve set up a visit with your parents. They are Katie’s primary daycare providers, correct?”

“Yes, but she starts Little Ducklings in September. It’s the best daycare in the county, and Katie has been on the waiting list since she was six months old,” I informed him.

“Yes, I have all that here. I will be visiting them as well, just to get a sense of what their provisions are. I’ll also be doing home visits with Miss Robinson, of course.”

“So, you’ll be flying to Florida? Or will someone else do the home visit since it’s so far away?” Whitney asked. Good question.

Mr. Struthers frowned. “I will be going to her place of residence here in Southport, of course. Though I am liaising with a guardian ad litem in Dade County to do the home visit there. Her mother will be on-site—”

“Wait a minute, her residence here? What are you talking about?” I interrupted, not caring that it was rude, and I was trying to impress this guy.

Mr. Struthers looked confused. “Miss Robinson called and set up a home visit for her here in Southport.” He seemed uncomfortable. “This was so she could begin visitation without disrupting Katie’s routine. I assumed your attorney had been notified, and you were aware.”

My fingers had become claws, digging into my thigh. “No, sir, I wasn’t aware that Josie had come back to Southport.”

Mr. Struthers cleared her throat. “Well, I recommend you contact your attorney then.” He got to his feet. “I really should get going.” He held out his hand for me to shake, which I did, feeling numb. “I’ll be in touch soon. I’d like to come to see Katie again before I write up my report for the court.”

I didn’t say anything. I was reeling with the bomb this unsuspecting man had just dropped.

Whitney jumped in. “Of course. Let us know.” She walked him to the front door. “A quick question, though … shouldn’t Josie have notified Kyle that she was planning to start her visitation? The judge said it had to be coordinated between them. Josie hasn’t told Kyle anything, let alone that she was coming back to Southport.”

Mr. Struthers cleared his throat again. “Yes, Miss Robinson or her attorney should have notified either Mr. Webber—sorry, Kyle—or his lawyer. It’s not very good form, though I believe she has the best intentions. It does make it easier to reestablish contact with Katie if she’s close by, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose. It just would have been nice to have a heads up,” Whitney retorted.

“I understand. Like I said, contact your attorney and go from there.” Mr. Struthers looked back at me. I hadn’t moved. I was rooted to the spot. Katie continued to play in the corner, oblivious to how her world had turned upside down in the last two minutes. “I will talk to you soon, Kyle. Take care.”

I lifted my hand in a wave and then Whitney was shutting the door behind him.

“Kyle—” Whitney started to say

“I can’t ... I have to … What am I?” I couldn’t get the words out. What the absolute fuck? Just when I thought things were going well.

“Call Adam. He’ll know what to do,” Whitney said, sitting on the floor with Katie.

“Right. I have to call Adam.” I pulled out my phone.

“Maybe go outside. You’re obviously upset, and Katie might pick up on it,” Whitney suggested.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I told her, my voice breaking. I leaned down and kissed the top of Katie’s head then kissed my wife.

I stepped outside and called Adam’s cell, not his work phone, though it was still business hours, in case

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