"I know you want to give birth at home, but I think we should consider the hospital. There are too many things that could go wrong. Look at Gabby. She is young and healthy, but that didn't stop her from ending up in the hospital. A midwife can't give you the care a hospital can. If there is an emergency with you or the baby, you'll already be where you need to get help."

"Harrison, I will be fine. You don't have to worry about me. The hospital isn't that far away. Don't worry."

"I just don't want to lose you or Anthony. I don't know what I would do if something happened to either of you," I say, realizing that I’m very close to those three frightening words I’ve never told any woman before.

"It won't happen, Harrison. I am not going anywhere," she says, taking my hand. "You're always so worried, like some kind of mother hen. It's sweet of you, but sometimes I hate it."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying my best to be more positive," I say, giving her one of my signature smiles before kissing her forehead. "We can do this. I know we can. We just have to work together and trust each other. You're going to be a great mom."

"Thanks," she mumbles, turning on her side and snuggling closer to me as I lean back against the headboard. I let her rest, watching her for a while before my eyes start to close and sleep starts to pull me under.

The next morning, when I get to my office, I am greeted by a solemn assistant and immediately know it's going to be a long day.

The temperature in the room seems to have dropped drastically since I was in it last. I try to ignore my mother's glare as I walk past her to my desk.

The recently permanent scowl that adorns her face elevates my blood pressure on sight, and I brace myself for whatever she might say.

"Hello, mother," I say as pleasantly as possible as I sit at my desk.

"I need to discuss an important matter with you," she states, standing in front of my desk rather than taking her usual seat on the couch. She doesn’t even say hello.

"What would that be?" I ask as a feeling of dread seeps on.

"Harrison, you need to take control of this situation," she declares, "That girl is not suitable to be a mother to your child. You need to get custody of the baby."

The statement catches me off guard, taking me a minute to process her words. Once I fully grasp what she is saying, anger takes hold of me, tightening its grip every second she is in front of me.

"Mother, I'm not going to do that. Riley loves our baby and she's going to be a great mother," I state firmly.

I realize suddenly that this is the first time I called it our baby. A warm feeling wraps me into its embrace. Now, more so than ever, I know I will protect both of them with my life.

She lets out an exaggerated sigh and says, "She may be a great mother, but she's not from a suitable background. You need to think about what's best for the child. I have already contacted a lawyer on your behalf. He says you could get custody of your son very easily."

I feel my face flush with anger as the months of pent-up frustration come boiling to the surface. "Riley is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm not going to take away my child from her. She deserves to be a part of our child's life."

"You can't be serious," she scoffs, shocked. "You need to remember your place in society and think about the future of your child."

"My place in society doesn't matter. What matters is for our child to have a loving home," I retort. I want to add that I’m not sure I always had that myself, but I bite my tongue before actually saying it.

"You're being foolish and naive," she says, "You need to take action and get custody of the baby before it's too late."

"You seem to think you know better than I do," I say, feeling my anger rise. "But you're wrong. I know what's best for my family and I'm not going to let anyone stand in the way of that. I'm not being foolish or naive, I'm being responsible. I'm doing what's best for my family and I'm not going to let you or anyone else dictate how I raise my child."

She shakes her head again, her disapproval clear. "I hope you realize that you're making a huge mistake, Harrison."

I open my mouth to speak, but she raises her hand to stop me. She turns around and leaves my office, looking angrier than when I arrived. The knot in the pit of my stomach tightens, thinking about what she might do out of anger. But another feeling assures me that, whatever it is, I will be ready.


Chapter Seventeen

Riley

Pieces of furniture lay strewn across the floor in front of us. It looks a mess, just like I thought this relationship with Harrison will be. And yet, here we are and everything seems perfect.

What about the deal? That little voice reminds me. I decide to shut it up and convince myself it is a coincidence. Yes, just that. Why overthink things?

Penny grabs the sides of the shelf and holds them up.