Page 71 of Power Play
“It’s easy to say that now, before your shark of a lawyer gets involved. I can’t afford—”
“We have a prenup. Everything is outlined there, you can afford whatever you want.”
I glanced over the documents, but I didn’t pay that much attention. I don’t want his money. All I want is my girl, and he can’t promise custody of her, not with the courts involved.
“But Emmy—”
“She will always be your kid,” he vows. “She’s yours just as much as she is mine. And no matter what happens with my career, when I retire and don’t have to travel every week, I’m still going to need you—need help. Single parents do it on their own every day, but I’ve never wanted to be a single parent. I want you by my side.”
“We can’t always get what we want.”
He rears back again as if I’ve slapped him. “Wow. Okay, then.”
“I’m just saying—”
“No. I hear you. You don’t want this.” Don’t want me, I hear the unspoken words.
“It’s not that,” I say, awkwardness settling over me like a cloud of discomfort. “What if we start something, and it fizzles out, and then everything is weird?”
“Then we handle it like adults,” Al says. “It’s not that complicated.”
“Except we’re married.”
“So take that out of the equation. It’s a legal relationship, not a romantic one. We can simply date and pretend we’re not married.”
“But—”
He shakes his head. “Either you want to be with me, or you don’t,” he says flatly. “It’s that simple.”
“It’s not. You’re loaded. You can do anything you want. I’m an unemployed, homeless makeup artist with no family. You have—”
“What are you talking about?” He stares at me, mouth agape. “You’re not unemployed, you take care of our kid, which is a full-time fucking job and then some. You aren’t homeless, you have a house. And we’re married, that makes us a family.”
It’s my turn to take a step back. “F-fam—”
“Riley, you’re part of my family now.” His voice softens, and when he reaches for me, I allow him to take my hands in his. “For better or for worse. I meant that. Whatever happens between us, I’ll stand by you. Do you think I’d really allow you to be homeless? Do you think I’d let the mother of my child struggle?”
I open my mouth to argue, but he continues before I can say anything.
“No matter what happens between us, you will always be taken care of. I can’t promise you won’t want a job later on, but while Emmy is home every day, when I’m traveling with the team, your job is to take care of our girl. If you wanted to pick up another gig, we could get a nanny. I want you to feel supported, whether you work outside of the house or not.”
My lip trembles. “I don’t want a nanny. I want to stay home with her.”
“Okay. We won’t get a nanny,” he agrees immediately.
“And even when we get divorced, I want to be in her life. I need to be her guardian in your will so if something happens to you, we don’t lose her. Not again.”
His eyes soften. “Do you want a postnup?”
“What’s that?”
“We’ll go to the lawyer and revise the prenuptial agreement. Since we’re married already, it’s called a postnuptial agreement. We would outline exactly what happens so the divorce is open and shut. Fifty-fifty custody, child support and alimony—”
“I don’t need that,” I interrupt.
“But I’m offering it,” he argues. “We’ve got eighteen years ahead of us, plus a lifetime of her adulthood. My girl is used to a certain level of comfort. If you’re certain you want out, we’ll outline it so everything is fair.”
“We did that already.” I remember signing paperwork, but I didn’t pay attention to the financial details. I never actually intended to take his money. I figured I’d walk away and that would be that. It will kill me to lose access to Emmy, but I can’t in good conscience keep her from him.
