Page 22 of Nolan

"That's not my fault. You've kept her from me,"

"You asked me to." My control slips, rage breaking through. "You said, and I quote, 'I don't want to see her. It's too hard.' Those were your exact words when you left."

She flinches, but recovers quickly. "People change."

"Yeah, they do. I've changed too. I've become someone who protects his daughter from people who might hurt her. Including her birth mother."

Lisa's eyes narrow, any pretense of reconciliation vanishing. "This isn't over, Nolan. I have rights."

"No, you don't. You signed them away." I hand the paper back to her. "Whatever your lawyer told you, it's bullshit. In this state, voluntary termination of parental rights is permanent except in cases of fraud or duress. Neither of which apply here."

"We'll see about that." She snatches the document back. "I have photos, you know. Of you and your nanny. Quite cozy for an employer-employee relationship."

Cold dread washes over me. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm pointing out that a judge might find it interesting that the woman caring for my daughter is also sharing your bed." Her smile is venomous. "Doesn't look great for your case, does it?"

"There is no case." I step back, putting distance between us before I say something I'll regret. "And Annabelle is not 'sharing my bed.' She's a professional who loves Ashlynn and takes excellent care of her."

"Love," Lisa repeats, making the word sound dirty. "Is that what you're calling it?"

"Get out." My patience snaps. "Get off my property before I call the police."

"This isn't over," she says again, but she's already backing toward the steps. "I'll be in touch."

"Don't bother."

I watch her leave, waiting until her car disappears down the street before I allow myself to breathe. My hands are shaking, with anger, with fear, with a thousand emotions I can't name.

Running a hand down my face, I try to collect myself before going to find Annabelle and Ashlynn. I need to be calm for them. I need to be strong.

The backyard is a sanctuary of normalcy. Ashlynn sits cross-legged on a blanket, her hands covered in paint and glitter, while Annabelle kneels beside her, helping her press buttons onto what appears to be a handprint butterfly.

"Daddy." Ashlynn spots me and jumps up, running to me with sticky hands outstretched. "Look what we made."

I scoop her up, not caring about the paint and glitter now covering my work clothes. "Wow, that's beautiful, princess."

"It's a butterfly," she explains seriously. "We made lots of them. One for you too."

"I can't wait to see it." I hug her close, breathing in the scent of paint and the strawberry shampoo Annabelle uses on herhair. My daughter. Safe. Happy. Oblivious to the storm that just passed through our lives.

Over Ashlynn's head, my eyes find Annabelle's. She's watching us, her expression a mix of concern and something else, something warm that makes my chest tighten.

"Is everything okay?" she asks quietly.

"For now." I set Ashlynn down. "Go finish your butterfly, sweetheart. I need to talk to Annabelle for a minute."

"Okay, but hurry. We're gonna have a picnic."

Once she's safely back on the blanket, engrossed in her project, I move closer to Annabelle.

"Thank you," I say, my voice low. "For keeping her away from Lisa. For calling me right away."

"Of course." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture so different from when Lisa did it that it makes my heart ache. "What did she want?"

"To cause trouble." I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "She's talking about trying to get her parental rights reinstated."

Annabelle's eyes widen. "Can she do that?"

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