Page 29 of Never Alone
I went still.
I was watching her now. Watching her the way I watched a witness on a scene whose story I was trying to decide whether to take. The flat voice. The shake under it. The thumb. None of it was the work of a woman lying. But I'd been wrong about people before.
"I have a lawyer here now," she said. "She's good. The plan is to file for full custody. The defense is jurisdictional. South Carolina is Noah's home state by about a month. If we file fast, before my ex-husband can file in his state, we have a real case."
I nodded. "That's good, right?"
Her hand had moved without her noticing. She had it pressed flat against her sternum, between her collarbones and her ribs, like she was holding something down. Her breath went in and didn't come out for a beat too long.
"My lawyer also said?—"
She stopped. The breath came out. She took another one. Shallow.
"My lawyer said the case would be stronger—that Noah would have a better chance of staying with me—if there were a stable male figure in his life."
Color came up in her cheeks. She was looking at what I assumed was her car across the lot.
"I'm not asking you to lie to anyone. I'm not asking for anything real. I'm asking if you'd be willing to let people think we're together. For the case. Just until it's done."
The ask landed in pieces.Pretending. Publicly.She was asking me to be the man people thought I was in a video I hadn't asked to be in.
She stopped. Pressed her hand harder.
"I'm sorry. I know what I'm asking."
She looked at me.
"You can say no. I came here knowing you might. I had to ask anyway. Noah is the only thing I have, and I have to try everything I can for him. Even this."
"Tessa, I?—"
"Wait." Her voice had gone small. "Cole. There's—there's one more thing. I have to tell you?—"
She stopped. Swallowed. Her hand came off her sternum and went up to her mouth. She looked like she was about to throw up.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She shook her head. Turned. Made it to the planter and threw up into it.
I was at her side without thinking about it. I gathered her hair back with one hand and put the other on her back. She was shaking.
"Easy. Easy. Get it out."
Whatever she had been holding through the last fifteen minutes, this was what holding it had cost.
She couldn't be lying to me. People didn't do this for a lie. She had a lawyer. She had a strategy. She had a son. There was nothing she stood to gain from lying. The story she was telling was a story that cost her to tell.
"I'm—" She tried to straighten up. Couldn't. "Cole, I have to?—"
"Tessa."
"There's—"
"Tessa, I understand. You don't have to keep going."
She was still bent over the planter. I kept my hand on her back, slow, the way you'd settle a kid.
"Just let it out," I said. "Don't fight it. Get it all out."
