Page 77 of Fourth Wall

“It isn’t great, Maeve.”

I would lose my girls. I would lose custody to Tyler, who was doing this just to get back at me and anger me because he knew he could control me.

“What does Christian do?” Antonio asked.

“He is a bodyguard,” I responded flatly because I didn’t know much more than that. I knew he worked for Julian and Alex, and they were involved in some dark shit, but Christian was their bodyguard.

The lawyer ran his hands through his hair.

“We gotta figure something out. Let me think about it before we go to court at the end of the week. Somehow we need to prove he is not harming you or the girls in any way.” Antonio lowered his tone. “They are going to question the legitimacy of this relationship. You are simply dating, which means it would be easier to break up with him.”

“But we live together? You can show them photos of all our stuff here, can’t you?”

“Yeah, of course we will. I’m just saying that I can already see that as their defense. If you were married, had kids of your own, etc., it would change the entire course of our argument.”

Antonio looked up at me. “Does he own the guns legitimately?”

Probably not.

“I’m sure. I’ll check with him.” The lawyer got up to leave.

“Call me when you talk to him,” he told me before heading out the door.

As the door shut behind him, I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face in uncontrollable waves. I felt utterly broken, the kind of ugly crying you see in movies. My stomach churned with nausea, and I rushed to the bathroom, heaving up the dinner I had shared with the girls. It was the second time this week, and I couldn't bear the thought of falling ill on top of everything else happening.

Suddenly, I heard the door open again, and Christian's anxious voice whisper-shouted from the hall, "Maeve?"

"I'm in here," I replied weakly, my voice shaky from my emotional outburst.

He found me in the downstairs bathroom, my head resting on the cold porcelain, drained and feeling utterly repulsive.

"Told you I look like shit when I'm puking," I mumbled, too exhausted to care about my appearance. I looked up at him, and he had his weapon at his side. He was my bodyguard, myprotector, and watching me in this vulnerable position, I felt so much shame.

"You still look beautiful, firecracker," he assured me, lifting me and carrying me to the couch after he holstered his gun.

Concern etched across his face, he asked, "What happened?"

"Why did you rush in here?" I responded simultaneously, our minds in sync despite the distressing circumstances.

"I saw the cameras and noticed a guy leaving, so I got worried. Who was that?" Christian inquired hesitantly.

"It was my lawyer," I admitted, struggling to lift my head from the pillow.

His worry intensified as he stared into my eyes, searching for answers. So I told him everything that had transpired even though I knew it would hurt him to hear that someone had followed him. But I needed his help and had to be honest about the situation.

After I finished recounting the events, he sat there in silence, running his hands through his hair. In a sudden burst of determination, he leapt up and ran up the stairs to our room. I noticed he pulled out a bag and began emptying it. Inside included some concealed weapons from the closet safe.

"For the record, they are all registered," he grumbled, addressing no one in particular.

Panicked and desperate, I pleaded, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to figure out a solution to all of this. It's my fucking fault, and I need to go figure it out. I thought I was doing it, but I guess I need to do it sooner," he explained, his brows furrowing in determination.

But I couldn't bear the thought of him facing this alone, and I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him. "Stop.” My voice was heavy and commanding. It took all my strength to assert myself, but I couldn't let him run away, as he often did, to fix a problem on his own. We were in this together, and I refused to let himface it alone. It took everything out of me to say it, but Christian was doing the thing he always did, which was fix a problem by running away.

“You’re leaving me again, and you promised you never would without including me. I need to know what is happening, and I am lost right now.” I could tell that his chest was heaving, and his breath was ragged.

“My sponsor is your fucking ex’s husband.” I was dumbfounded, and my jaw went completely slack.

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