His Greatest Treasure (Greatest Love #4)

Chapter 39

39

AVERY

“Thank you, Gracie,” I say, leaning my arms against the rim of the unrolled window.

The Range Rover is fancy enough that I feel bad touching it this way, but the position helps keep my back to the building behind me, a boundary held in place for a couple of minutes longer.

Gracie slips her designer sunglasses up into her hair and winks at me. “I’m always up to play driver for you, sweetheart.”

“Can I just stand here for a second?”

“You can stand there for as long as you need. I’m in no rush.”

I offer her a slight smile. The papers in my hand are thick and heavy. “What do you think he’ll do when I tell him what I want?”

“Nothing that’ll make you feel like you’ve made the right call, I’m sure. But you have, Avery. This is what’s best for both you and Nova.”

“I know that deep down. Nova needs stability and security in her life, not disappointment and uncertainty. But I also worry she’ll be upset with me. What if he tries to turn her against me for this?”

“If he dared try to do that, he’d disappear off the face of the Earth. That’s something else I’m sure of,” she declares .

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered by the prospect of someone killing him for me.”

“Nobody said anything about killing.”

I breathe a laugh and pat my hands on the door. “You don’t have to wait for me while I do this.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Alright. Be right back,” I say with a final calming inhale that doesn’t help settle me in the slightest.

“Pin his ass to the wall, Avery. He deserves it.”

I carry her words with me up Chris’ sidewalk and into the entrance of his apartment building. With a jab of my finger to the number of his apartment on the keypad, I wait for him to buzz me in.

After the text I sent him an hour ago, he’s expecting me. But even so, he keeps me waiting down in the entrance for three minutes before unlocking the door for me.

“Fucking asshole,” I mutter.

There’s no elevator in this place, so I take the stairs, climbing the two flights of them slower than ever as I repeat my speech in my mind another three times.

It’s memorized, but I know the moment he opens his mouth and starts speaking, I’ll forget every word I’ve rehearsed. His anger will trigger my fight or flight, but I’ll stay and fight like I always do. Harder now than I ever did before.

The door to his apartment is already open when I hit the third floor and start down the hall. Arms crossed and his back leant against the doorframe, he keeps me in his sight and watches every step I take toward him.

In his usual jeans and hoodie, he looks lanky. The opposite of Oliver.

“Who drove you here?” is the first thing he asks me.

“Hello, Chris.”

He moves aside to let me in before closing the door. “It’s a nice car. Yours?”

“No. It’s Oliver’s mother’s car. ”

“Of course it is.”

I’m too busy taking in the sight of the home I haven’t seen the inside of in years to respond to his goading words.

While the building itself is outdated, the owners have done a good job of keeping the apartments themselves updated. There’s a small L-shaped kitchen with a single-doored white fridge and an oven to match, nice windows that overlook a man-made swamp, and a small but cozy living space that used to be covered head to toe in family photos but is now empty, bland.

Surrey holds a number of memories for me, majority of which were made here, in this apartment. But this isn’t the place it was then, and it never will be again.

“Where do you keep all of Nova’s things? Locked away in her room?” I ask bluntly.

“They make the place feel smaller. When she’s not here, they’re put away.”

“Is that the real reason, or do you just not want those you invite over to know you have a daughter at all?”

His nostrils flare. “If you’ve already made your own conclusions, why bother asking?”

The papers in my hand grow heavier, every slight crinkle of them reminding me of why I came here. The forty-five-minute drive from Vancouver to Surrey isn’t going to be wasted.

With one large step forward, I shove the papers into his chest and wait for him to reach for them before hissing, “This is our new custody agreement. Read it over and sign by every tabbed line. If you don’t agree, we’ll try mediation, and if that still doesn’t work, we’ll go to a judge next. But you will never, ever threaten me with our daughter again, Chris. Is that clear?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, wide-eyed and lips pressing together.

He scrolls over the writing on the front page of the agreement at lightning speed, and I feel incredibly smug to have pulled a reaction from him with this. It’s about time he’s felt the hard smack of reality .

Welcome to the club, asshole.

“I didn’t come here because I missed you and Surrey, Chris. It was to make sure you knew that I’m done with you thinking you still have any pull or say in my life. Everything you need to know from now on is in that agreement. Including the extent of the contact between you and me.”

Or lack thereof. Unless we’re speaking about Nova, there won’t be a word coming from either of us.

He flips through the next page and then the next, only pausing his searching when he stumbles upon the exact section I was expecting him to pay more attention to than any other.

“You’re not asking for child support?”

I keep my expression blank. “No. I would rather you use that money to take care of Nova while she’s here. There’s more outlined in the agreement involving holidays.”

“You’re going to share them with me now?”

I swallow down a laugh. “No. But you will get a set day following every holiday to spend time with her. There are conditions, though, considering how little you’ve cared about celebrating them in the past. First, you’ll receive a list of gift ideas from me for both her birthday and Christmas and be expected to get her at least one of those items. If you can’t afford something, I’ll send you the money needed. And if you take that money and still don’t follow through, all holiday celebrations will be stripped from you.”

The hit to his pride is obvious in the tightening of his jaw and flushing of his cheeks. I enjoy every single moment of his suffering.

It’s been a long time coming for all of this, and it feels so incredibly freeing to be laying it all out there with a legal team and family at my back. The repercussions of his lack of care and responsibility have weighed on me for years, but no more. That ends today. It’s time to move on from him and the hold he’s had on me and Nova.

“And second,” I continue, spine straight, “if she declines celebrating with you, that’s that. That counts for everything, even outside of holidays.

“Fuck up one too many times, and she’ll decide you’re not worth her time, Chris. And I’m going to be there supporting her every step of the way. This is serious. It’s not a game where you can lose and come back over and over again to try to win. If you keep hurting her the way you have been, it will be game over. No more chances. You’ll lose her forever, and I won’t be here for you encouraging her to reconsider her decision.”

Flipping through to the next and final page, he glances up at me and flicks his tongue to wet his lips. I cringe at the weird nervous habit of his and seriously consider what was wrong with me to think that this man was what I wanted, both emotionally and sexually.

“I’ll need a lawyer of my own to look over this. If I decide it’s all worth agreeing to,” he grumbles.

“You can have two weeks.”

“Fine.”

“Are you still good to take her this weekend?”

“Am I allowed to?”

I slowly exhale, keeping calm. “Yes, you’re allowed to see her. Every second weekend will still be yours, as long as there are no more early drop-offs. She was really fucking hurt when you discarded her as if she wasn’t anything more than baggage last time. It’s stuck with her.”

“Something came up.”

“Yeah, I bet. It doesn’t matter now. Just be at the house on Saturday morning at nine. If you’re late, you can wait another two weeks. I’m done with the babying. You’re a grown man and a father to a seven-year-old girl who wants to spend time getting to know her father. I’m begging you to act like it and quit letting her down every chance you get. She won’t be a little girl forever. You’ll look back on these days years from now and wish you hadn’t acted this way.”

“And you and Oliver?” he asks after a beat of silence, avoiding my eyes and staring down at the papers in his hands. “That’s for real? It’s serious?”

My brain lags at the . . . sincerity in the question. The lack of judgment and fire in his tone is startling. Unexpected to the point of confusion.

“It’s serious,” I answer, keeping my tone strong yet still gentle. “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be in our lives for . . . Well, for a long time, I hope.”

It looks like it pains him to speak, but when he does, the jealousy I expect isn’t there. “Okay. I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I take the break in arguing to head out, only lingering for long enough to blurt out the last thought in my head before I lose my confidence.

“For what it’s worth, Chris, I really hope you get your shit together. For Nova. She deserves both of her parents in her life.”

He doesn’t have a chance to reply before I open the door and leave, feeling lighter than I did when I arrived. Hopeful, even. The remaining weight on my chest doesn’t have anything to do with Chris and all to do with the man he was asking about.

It’s been a brutal few days without him. My bed is cold and empty, and Nova’s laugh is missing the special jingle it has when Oliver’s helped pull it out of her.

I’ve swayed away from the takeout meals and have managed to pull myself together enough to use the air fryer, clear out the overflowing containers of leftovers from the fridge, and tuck Nova into bed on time. All of my wineglasses are washed and back in the cupboard, and when one of the local baseball teams came by asking for bottle donations, I let them load up the empty wine bottles into the truck they drove down the road.

The bill from the lawyer was hard to stomach, but paying it felt like an accomplishment. A step in the right direction.

There’s only one more thing to do now. One more person to speak to and spill the contents of my mind and soul in front of. I thought I could wait until Oliver got off shift tomorrow, but as I pick up speed down the stairs, excited at the mere thought of seeing him right now, I doubt that I can.

Breaking free of the apartment building, I jog down the sidewalk and to Gracie. She looks up from her phone the moment I open the door and fling myself in beside her.

“Can you take me to the firehouse?”