Egomaniac - Page 83

He looked straight at Alexa. “Ms. Jagger, I hold you largely accountable for the mess we have here today. If you had one inkling of a doubt that your husband might not be the boy’s father, you had a duty to get to the truth when that blessed child was born.”

For the first time, I felt a sudden pang of hope. Walliford had never shown his hand, and I’d assumed he’d fallen for the southern charm Alexa had been laying on thick since day one. What came out of his mouth next shocked the shit out of me even more.

“Mr. Jagger, I’d like to commend you on your devotion to young Beckett. It’s clear that you love and care for the child no differently than if things had turned out differently with the results of the paternity test some years ago.”

Inwardly, I jumped into the air and fist pumped, but somehow I managed to feign humility.

“Thank you, your honor. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Right. Well, that being said, let’s get to the business at hand today. On Ms. Jagger’s petition for a change in custody, I find no circumstances that warrant a modification. The order setting the visitation of Andrew M. Jagger is hereby affirmed without change.”

He looked at Alexa. “Ms. Jagger, the fact that your petition to increase custody was in order to allow Mr. Bodine to start to have visitation with your son is a step in the right direction. However, it has not gone unnoticed that Mr. Bodine has not once made an appearance during these proceedings. To be quite frank, his lack of interest and participation makes me question his priorities and interest in his son’s life. Regardless, he is the boy’s father, and I’m going to grant Mr. Bodine some visitation. However, this time will come out of your time with your son, not Mr. Jagger’s time. This court hereby grants Levi Bodine’s petition for custody in the amount of eight hours per week. After a relationship is established, and Mr. Bodine has proven to this court his desire to be involved in his son’s life, I’ll consider additional visitation. However, this likely will also come from your time, Ms. Jagger.”

I stood before the court utterly dumbfounded. Mentally, I was busting through the yellow tape at the finish line with my hands held high as I finished the almost-four-week-long marathon I’d been running. I just couldn’t believe I’d won.

Behind me, Roman let out a triumphant yes, and I stood there stunned, feeling like it was a dream and any second I was going to wake up to have the nightmare of reality hit me.

Then Judge Walliford finished. “Lastly, on Mr. Jagger’s cross motion to compel Alexa and Beckett Jagger’s relocation to their home in New York City, that motion is denied.”

Wait. What? “Your honor, if I am retaining my visitation, how can you deny my motion for my son’s return home?”

“Isn’t that obvious, Mr. Jagger? Your son is going to be here in the great state of Georgia. You might want to think about relocating.” He banged his gavel and stood to leave the courtroom.

“This is bullshit! I have a practice in New York. Alexa doesn’t even have a job here.”

Walliford froze mid-step. “That’ll be one thousand dollars for using that language and tone in my courtroom. You don’t like my decision, take it up with the court of appeals.”

***

I held the bathroom wall to keep myself upright long enough to take a piss, then stumbled from the bathroom back to my barstool. Tie and jacket God knows where, zipper still open, shirt half tucked in and half hanging out—I looked as trashed as I felt.

“I’ll have another on the rocks.” I slid my highball glass toward the bartender. He looked at Roman, then at me. “You gotta ask my father’s permission or something? Just give me the damn drink.”

Did I mention I’m an even bigger dick than usual when I’m drunk?

My cell phone jumped around on top of the bar. Emerie. It was the third time she’d called. Also the third time I didn’t answer.

“Not gonna answer that again?” Roman asked.

I slurred, “Whassssthepoint?”

“How about to let the lady have a good night’s sleep tonight? God knows you’re gonna have one when you pass out by five p.m, you selfish prick.” Roman drew on his beer and set it down on the bar. “She loves you. You’ll work it out.”

“Work what out? It’s over.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t be an asshole. It’s the first woman I’ve ever really seen you fall for. How long we been friends?”

“Too long apparently, if you’re going to start lecturing me.”

“What did I tell you in the back of the church right before you married Alexa?”

In the condition I was in, most of my life was blurry, but that morning was always crystal clear. I’d thought about Roman offering me his keys to split on more than one occasion since. “Car is in the back if you want to bail,” he’d said. When I’d reminded him Alexa was carrying my baby, and I was doing the right thing, he’d said, “Fuck the right thing.”

Tags: Vi Keeland Romance
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