Page 65 of Not Mine to Rescue

I shook my head. “Over my dead body.”

His eyes narrowed.

I forged on, placing a hand on my stomach. “You see, you gave her to me as a gift when I miscarried our second child. It was a boy, by the way. For five months and three days, I carried him right here. He died. I was hospitalized and had a DNC so I wouldn’t die from sepsis. And as a coming-home present? You got me a dog to make ‘everything better.’

“And you know what? She did make it better—as much as she could. She’s everything good and decent in this world.”

You’d think he might have softened then. But I was too caught up in the truth-telling to stop because I wasn’t done yet.

“So, when you fought for joint custody of Molly, a creature who never asked to become the rope in our little tug of war, I didn’t fight it because I didn’t want to hurt her. But you’re showing your true colors now, and I’ll have none of it. I’m taking my dog.”

He went low. “The firm needs to know you’ve been lying.”

“Jim, we can get our own dog.” At least Denise was seeing the bigger picture here.

But Jim wasn’t done. “You are going to lose your practice and probably end up in jail if you continue sleeping with your client.”

“He’s your client,” I reminded him.

“Who you insisted on representing in October.”

“Because you were going on paternity leave.”

“I could have handled the case load.”

“And left Denise alone at the hospital like you did me?” Yes, that event still hurt. “What if she’d miscarried?”

“That’s a low blow, Honoria,” he replied.

“You do know my real name. Maybe you can use it once in a while because I am not your ‘honey’ anymore.”

There was too long of a span of silence as my words hung in the air.

Denise cleared her throat. “Would you like another glass of wine?”

“I’d love one.”

Jim started to complain, but Denise shoved Jake into his arms. “He needs to be changed before you put him down for his nap. Take him upstairs while I talk to our guest. And while you’re at it, remember who you’re married to at this moment. Please?” She put strong emphasis on the last word, and there wasn’t a single note of pleading in it.

His face turned red.

Denise stared at his retreating back, then motioned for me to join her in the kitchen. She refilled my glass, then poured one for herself. “I’m allowed one. Doctor’s orders.”

It was slightly fuller than mine.

“I apologize. Today had to have been awkward.”

She eyed me over the rim of the glass as she took a sip. When she finished, she spoke. “Awkward or not, it was overdue. You’ve been holding a lot in. I know I would not have been nearly as…what’s the word, circumspect?”

That was a good word. “You’re good for him, you know that, right?”

Denise raised an eyebrow. “I had big shoes to fill.”

“Well, you’re a quick study.”

Her frown turned into a smile. She raised her glass, “To the one who walked in my place before me. Thank you, and holy shit, you’re even more scary than I thought.”

I clinked my glass to hers. “And you’re sweeter than I thought you were. Thank you.”