Page 84 of Accidental Vegas Vows

Ethan’s elbow collided with my arm, and I sunk back into reality.

“I want to be absolutely clear when I say that I understand both parties need for custody,” Judge Harrow said. “I also understand why both parties believe the other shouldn’t have that.”

The older woman breathed in deeply as she adjusted her spectacles.

“But I have come to a decision,” she sighed.

She lifted the papers in front of her and hit the bottoms against her desk to align them. Nausea twisted my gut into ropes.

“In the case of custody over Noah Thompson, age five, Damien Blackwood will receive full custody with visitation allowed by Ms. Thompson. Where it is possible, Mr. Blackwood should strive to allow visitation when Ms. Thompson requests this. This decision is final and will not be up for debate unless circumstances change within the next five years, at which time Ms. Thompson, should she want to, can challenge the court’s decision.”

I let out a breath.

I won.

I won.

“You are dismissed,” she added.

I won. I won. I won. I won?—

“Thank fuck,” Ethan sighed exasperatedly.

I wasn’t thinking straight. I moved, and I shouldn’t have, but the adrenaline was shooting through my system and I couldn’t believe that I had actually won — I fucking won.

I stood from my seat. Olivia was already up.

My hands came to her cheeks, just gently, just barely holding on.

I leaned in to kiss her, and she turned away.

Chapter 33

Olivia

For a moment as I stepped through the door of Damien’s home I wondered what would have happened if he had lost. Would I have had to pick up the pieces? Would I have been thrust into yet another situation where I lost agency of myself for his benefit?

“Liv, we need to talk about this.”

The door shut behind him. I hadn’t spoken since we’d left the courthouse and I wasn’t about to start now. If I did, I’d say things I didn’t mean. Or worse, things I did mean.

I was so entirely grateful that Noah was still at school and didn’t have to be present for any of this.

My heels echoed through the quiet house as I rounded the corner opposite the kitchen, down into the short hallway.

“Liv,” he tried again. He followed me, step by step, his tone almost desperate despite his big win of today. “Please.”

I slipped into his office and came around his desk, wrenching the upper right drawer open. The papers felt so heavy in my hand despite being a small stack, and a second later I placed them gently on the polished wood.

“Olivia.”

Plucking his fanciest pen out of its holder, I got to work signing my name and initials on every sheet that required it. I’d studied them for long enough the day that I found them to know exactly where each one needed to go.

The empty spots next to his name made my morning sickness morph into afternoon sickness, and before he could say my name again, I slid the papers across the desk toward him.

“Sign,” I said.

His jaw wobbled as he tried to clench his teeth. “Can we please talk about this first?”

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