Page 45 of Must Have Been Love

“Dennis,” I acknowledge the tall, thin man dressed in a suit despite being on what I guess is a vacation. When we agreed to the visitation arrangements, I offered that they could meet up with Ayda four times a year. So they bought this house right over the water from Liberty Island.

Thankfully they only come when it’s their time to see Ayda. I already know that they’re flying back to London at the end of the week. The rest of the time the house lays empty, save for the staff they’ve hired to maintain it.

I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a Henley today, because I won’t be going into work at all. Though Dennis and Catherine hate it, there’s no way I’m leaving Ayda here unsupervised.

Yes, her name is on every do-not-fly list that exists, and if they take her I'll bring the full fucking wrath of the law down on them, but I also know the wheels of justice turn so fucking slowly it hurts.

I can’t put her through another custody case.

“Happy birthday, darling,” Ayda’s grandmother says, taking her hand. “Come see the swing set we bought you.”

A fucking swing set that she’ll use four times a year at the most. And not today because it’s raining.

I keep my mouth closed and follow them inside.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Dennis murmurs to me.

“Yes I do.”

Their butler – or whoever he is – closes the door behind us as we follow Ayda and her grandmother through the grand hall and into the living room that overlooks their huge yard.

“Garden’s looking nice,” I say to Dennis, who’s still looking like he’s sucking a lemon.

“Cut the bull,” he says, making me lift a brow. “What do I have to pay you to let us see our granddaughter without you skulking around?”

I let out a long breath. I should be surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. “You know that’s not going to happen,” I tell him. “And you know why.”

“It’s not like we can take her anywhere. You’ve made sure of that.”

“Didn’t stop you last time,” I murmur.

“Come on, dear,” Ayda’s grandmother says, squeezing her hand. “The cook made you a cake. Let’s get some and then you can open your gifts.”

She shoots a dirty look at me and takes Ayda along the hallway to the kitchen, leaving Dennis and me alone.

“You have these visits because I offered them,” I tell him. “I’m very happy to cancel them if you can’t behave.”

His already-beady eyes narrow. “If you cancel them, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Not as much as I regret agreeing to them.”

“Why isn’t she talking yet?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Because her mother stole her from home and traumatically died, then you traumatized her even more by not letting her see me for months,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.

“Is she still going to therapy?”

He knows she is. I also allow Dr. Methi to send them a report – heavily edited by me – each month. I’m a fucking saint, if I’m being honest. They deserve nothing from me.

But I’m playing the game. Letting them see her enough that it looks like I’m being magnanimous. If they try to take me to court again, I’ll point out how generous I’ve been.

“She’s doing fine at therapy.”

“And at home? Are you even there at all? Every time I open the newspaper you’re making a new deal.”

“I’m keeping a roof over my daughter’s head.”

“We offered to pay you whatever you need,” he says, sounding wheedling now.

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