Page 86 of No Greater Love
"Let me guess," she said finally. "She was perfectly reasonable. Understanding. Just wants what's best for Paige."
"Exactly."
"And she had evidence of how much she's changed. Therapy, career, stability."
"A whole photo album."
Sophia laughed, but it was bitter. "They all read from the same playbook. Troy did the same thing. Showed up claiming he'd been to therapy, found religion, whatever. All he really wanted was to hurt me for leaving."
"What did you do?"
"Gave him exactly what he asked for—supervised visitation with Madison. Documented everything. Every no-show, every manipulation, every time Madison came home upset." Her voice hardened. "It took six months, but eventually he showed his true colors. The judge saw right through him."
"Six months," I repeated, feeling sick. "Of putting Madison through that."
"It was hell," Sophia admitted. "But it was the only way to protect her long-term. If I'd refused from the start, he could have painted me as the vindictive ex keeping him from his child."
"That's what Sarah's counting on."
"Probably. But here's the thing. Nate has eleven years of being the only parent. That matters. Sarah can't just waltz in and claim equal rights after abandoning her baby."
"Tell that to her lawyer."
"Her lawyer's playing a game too. Hoping you'll be so scared of losing that you'll settle for shared custody without a fight."
I sank onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. "I hate this. Paige is happy. We're happy. Why does Sarah get to blow that up just because she finally decided she wants to play mom?"
"Because biology gives her the right to try," Sophia said gently. "But trying and succeeding are different things. You and Nate need a lawyer. A good one."
"He wants to give her a chance first. One supervised visit."
"That's probably smart, actually. Shows good faith." Sophia paused. "But Tasha? Document everything. Every word, every gesture, every response from Paige. Build your own evidence file."
After we hung up, I found Nate in the kitchen, making Paige's lunch for tomorrow with mechanical precision. Turkey sandwich, apple slices, granola bar, juice box. The same lunch he'd made a thousand times.
"Sophia says we need a lawyer," I said.
"After the visit. See how it goes first."
I wanted to argue, but I could see the weight he was carrying. The impossible position Sarah had put him in: refuse and look like the bad guy, or agree and risk everything.
"When are you going to tell Paige?" I asked.
"Tonight. She deserves to know." He sealed the sandwich in a container with shaking hands. "How do I explain that the mother who abandoned her wants to meet her? How do I make that okay?"
"You tell her the truth. Age-appropriately, but the truth."
"Which is what? That Sarah was young and overwhelmed? That she's better now?" He laughed bitterly. "Or do I tell her that this is probably about money or a new boyfriend or God knows what else?"
I wrapped my arms around him from behind, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "You tell her that Sarah gave birth to her but wasn't ready to be a mom. That she's asked to meet her. That it's Paige's choice whether she wants to."
"What if she says yes?"
"Then we support her. We're there every step of the way. And when Sarah inevitably disappoints her, we're there for that too."
He turned in my arms, pulling me close. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Lucky for you, you won't have to find out."
