Page 167 of Role Play
“I love you too, baby,” I manage, my throat so tight it hurts. “So, so much.”
The door closes behind them with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot to my ears. For a moment, I stand frozen, disbelief warring with despair. Then the smell of burning pancakes registers, and something inside me splinters.
My knees give way, and I sink to the floor, a raw, animal sound escaping my throat. Sora is beside me instantly, her arms encircling me as I break apart completely.
“She took her,” I gasp, my voice unrecognizable. “She took Dakota.”
“I know,” Sora murmurs, rocking me gently. “I know.”
“I should have fought harder. I should have?—”
“You did the right thing,” she interrupts my self-deprecation. “You put Dakota first. You didn’t force her to choose. That would’ve traumatized her.”
“What am I going to do? Why the hell did I tell Hannah the truth?” The reality of it hits me anew, another wave of agony. “She’ll use it against me in court. I could lose Dakota forever.”
“That won’t happen.” Sora cradles my face between her hands, her gaze fierce and determined. “We’ll fight this, Forrest. Together. Hannah doesn’t get to swoop in and destroy what you’ve built.”
I want to believe her. I want to find strength in her certainty. But all I can see is Dakota’s tearstained face, all I can hear is her broken goodbye. My daughter, my heart walking outside my body, taken from me by a woman who sees her as a possession to be claimed rather than a child to be cherished.
“I can’t lose her,” I whisper, a confession and a prayer.
“You won’t,” Sora promises, holding me tighter as I collapse against her, sobs racking my body. “We’ll call a lawyer today. We’ll get ahead of this. Surely you know someone?”
Of course I do.And when I call her, Rina will unleash hell.
But for now, all I can do is grieve. The weight of Dakota’s absence already feels unbearable. The brownstone—so warm and full of life just minutes ago—now seems like a graveyard of shame.I did this. I caused this.
In the kitchen, the pancakes burn, filling the house with acrid smoke. But neither of us moves to save them. Some things, once broken, can’t be salvaged.
And right now, I’m afraid my heart might be one of them.
chapter 33
Forrest
The town car’s leather seat creaks beneath me as I shift positions for the tenth time in two minutes. Through the tinted windows, the mediator’s office building looms—six stories of gray concrete that will determine the course of my daughter’s life. My life.
“Stop fidgeting,” Rina says, not unkindly. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry.” I force my hands to be still in my lap. “It’s been twenty days.” The words catch in my throat. “What if Hannah’s poisoned her against me already?”
Rina’s expression softens, the hard lines of her usually formidable demeanor gentling. “Dakota adores you, Forrest. Children are resilient, but they’re not easily swayed when it comes to genuine love. And that little girl knows you love her.”
I nod, though the knot in my stomach only tightens. These weeks without Dakota have been the longest of my life filled with sickening nerves—worse than any finals period in law school, worse than the terrifying early days of fatherhood when I was alone with a newborn and no idea what I was doing. It’s not just how the brownstone feels hollow without her laughter, herendless questions, her small shoes by the door; it’s that I can’t believe some stranger gets to decide the relationship I have with my kid. It’s maddening.
I haven’t been myself the last few weeks—broody, distracted. I pretend to study at all hours of the night, just to stave off conversation. Sora knows I’m going through hell. She’s officially seen me at my worst, and yet, she’s stuck by me. Lately, where I’ve lacked, she excels. She even made me cowboy chili one night—better than my dad’s, but we promised we’d never tell him that.
“Remember what we discussed,” Rina says, drawing me back to the present. “Today’s goal is to keep this out of court. Mediation will be far more pleasant for everyone if we can resolve this now.”
“And if Hannah’s unreasonable?” The question haunts me. “If we have to go to court?”
A cold smile spreads across Rina’s face. “Then we go to court and aim for the jugular.” She straightens the lapels of her impeccable suit. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
The town car pulls to a stop at the curb. Through the window, I can see the revolving doors of the building, each turn bringing us closer to the moment of truth.
“Forrest.” Rina waits until I meet her eyes. “I’m with you, every step of the way. Hold your head high. You have nothing to be ashamed of if Hannah brings up your past employment.”
“Easier said than done.” Three weeks of Hannah’s threats have worn deep grooves of shame into my psyche.
