Page 79 of Lillian

Right on time, I smile as I see the back of her head walking in the opposite direction as me near her room.

“Lillian!” I shout and jog up to meet her. “Hey, how’d it go?” I smile as she turns to me. But the smile drops off my face immediately at the desolate, devastated look in her eyes and the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I lost,” she croaks.

“What do you mean you lost?”The frown on his face, the confusion, embodies what I’m feeling right now.

That can’t be it, right?

The judge can’t just decide in a twenty-minute hearing to unilaterally and completely ruin my life. And let’s be honest, Grace’s, too. No matter what Talia or her lawyer said or how long she’s been ‘clean,’ she isn’t Grace’s mom and does not know how to care for her the way I do.

She can’t even care for herself.

When I don’t answer him, when all I can do is stare blankly ahead and try not to drown in the devastation, he pulls me to him. Arms wrap tight around my shoulders, his hand holding my head to his chest. Numbly, slowly, my arms fold up around his waist. The touch is light and barely there. But the longer he holds me, the tighter my grip gets until my fists are bunched in his suit jacket, knuckles white.

I think he’s murmuring things to me or maybe even speaking at full volume, but the noise around me has started to filterin like sound underwater. Eyes open, I can see people moving around us. Men and women in suits, families dressed in more casual clothing, a few cops. All talking, laughing, crying. But it’s all far away.

Until I see Michael outside the courtroom, where my life just fell apart, talking to the opposing counsel. I can’t hear what is being said from here, but my lawyer shakes his head, turns, and starts walking toward us.

I unfold myself from around Lincoln, pulling away just enough to where we’re both facing Michael as he approaches. Lincoln still has me tucked into his body, left arm around my shoulders, so his right is free to shake the hand Michael extends as he reaches us.

“Linc,” my lawyer nods.

Their shake is firm but brief, and then Michael turns to me.

“I’m going to file an appeal in the morning. But frankly, the odds of the judge’s ruling getting overturned aren’t good. The mom followed the letter of the law on this one.” Lincoln is tense around me, but neither of us interrupt Michael as he continues. “Her lawyer wouldn’t confirm anything, but I suspect the mom is still using. You just have to be patient, Lillian. She’ll make a mistake, and then you’ll get custody back.”

“Maybe. But that mistake could cost me my daughter,” I respond, tone flat as images of Grace hurt or dead in some disgusting halfway house pop up in my head.

He nods, acknowledging the apparent truth in this situation. “I’ll do what I can.”

That’s all there is to say, really. With one last nod at Lincoln, Michael turns on his heel and walks away.

“It’s going to be okay,” Lincoln says as he pulls back to peer down at me. There’s a hardness, a finality, in his eyes. “We’re going to get her back. I promise you that.”

Every inch of me wants to believe him. Is searching for just a shred of hope. But I feel like an empty, endless pool of pessimism. Drowning in darkness.

When all I can do is nod halfheartedly, he kisses the top of my head. “Come home with me?” he asks.

To a place where Grace has a bedroom she loves but will never see again. Where all I’ll see is them making pancakes in the kitchen together, or the three of us cuddling on the couch watchingDisneymovies.

“I’m going to go back to Flagstaff and visit Grace in the hospital.” During visiting hours, I suppose. Since I’m no longer family. Not legally, at least. The ache in my chest tells me I’ll always feel like her mom in my heart. Where it counts.

“I’ll come with. We can stay at your house tonight. I just have to make sure Becca is okay staying alone,” he says the last part in a far off voice, biting his lip, worried about his sister already.

“No.” I shake my head. “Stay with your sister. I need some space anyways.” Space to process and get my mind right.

Change of circumstance, they had said about my relationship with Lincoln. Logically, I know he’s not the reason Talia got custody. But right now, it feels like I’m being ruled by emotions, and I need to take the time to separate the two. To not take out my grief and rage and bullshit on him.

His body goes still at my words. “Space from me?”

I’m silent at the shock in his voice, trying to think through my reply so I don’t say something hurtful or untrue.

He doesn’t wait for one. “Are you breaking up with me?”

My eyes jerk up to his, stunned that he made that jump so quickly. “No, of course not.”

The relief is palpable as his eyes shutter and shoulders loosen. “Promise?”

---