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“Fair enough. I just want this guy to go away forever,” I grumble.
“I hope you’re prepared for this to be a fight. He won’t just sign the papers without making our lives harder.”
“But Kylie isn’t asking for anything. She literally wants nothing but the divorce.”
“They have a child together. And she’s requested to keep assets in her name, like her car. He’ll likely fight about the few requests she’s made.”
“He’s such a fucking tool.”
Holt laughs. “Besides. Washington requires a mandatory ninety-day waiting period before it can be finalized, so even if he accepted everything we’ve put forth, she’d still have to wait three months. And custody can’t be confirmed until after Kylie has the baby.”
“Jesus, your job is the worst.”
“Gray?” Kylie’s soft voice comes from the open doorway of Holt’s office.
“Hey, Mama.” I jump up from my chair and swoop in to hug her. “I came by to see if I could buy you lunch—and also to make sure Holt is taking good care of you.”
“Lunch would be fantastic. I’m starving. Although that’s not abnormal.”
“I told you to buy yourself something when you ordered my food,” Holt scolds.
She scrunches her nose. “Your sandwich was gross, and there was no way I was going to be able to eat anything that came in the same bag as that abomination.”
I bark out a laugh. “Well, that works in my favor. You want to go get milkshakes?”
Her eyes light up. “Heck yeah, I do.”
“Wait! Grayson, for the love of god, change the group chat name.”
“You guys are a bunch of babies,” I tease. “I’d change the name to that if I weren’t also in the group.”
“Why can’t you change it, Holt?” Kylie asks.
“Because he’s too lazy to learn, and also Gia would tease the shit out of him for being too old to figure it out.” I wrap my arm around Kylie’s shoulders and guide her out of the office.
“Asshole!” Holt shouts at our retreating backs.
CHAPTER 21
Kylie
Mom’s face pinches like she’s eating a lemon. “This whole business makes my stomach hurt.”
I want to roll my eyes, but it’ll only lead to a lecture about acting like a teenager. I can’t look at my brother either. He’ll make me laugh, which would be worse.
Lifting the delicate porcelain teacup, I pretend to sip the herbal concoction Mom made for me. She says it’s nutrient-dense to help my pregnancy. In reality, it tastes like dirt with a hint of chamomile.
I will say, sitting in Mom’s glass sunroom has been quite relaxing, even if her commentary about my divorce has been less than helpful. Her affinity for plants has turned the space into a secret garden on the back of her house.
“Do you think it’s wise to shack up with that Reed boy? What if Chris uses that against you?” Mom pushes. Her grey-streaked hair is perfectly styled, the ends just barely kissing her shoulders, and her matching pink ensemble makes her look as if she’s ready to go to the country club at any moment. “Honestly, you should’ve just moved in here when you got back to town. It still doesn’t make any sense why you didn’t. I could help you when the baby gets here.”
I start to respond, but she continues without letting me.
“It’s not as if the Reed boy has any true experience with babies. His mother did most of the work with that little girl of his. I’ve successfully raised two children. You’d think my expertise would come first.”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from yelling at her. Of course she’d believe Gray didn’t raise London on his own. In her mind, men weren’t made to raise children. They’re the ones who go to work and provide financially for the household. That was the dynamic she expected with my dad. It doesn’t make sense to her that anyone would be interested in another type of relationship.
This time, I do look at Jacob. As is typical, he shrugs at me in a what can you do sort of way. He’s never liked arguing with Mom, although I can’t really blame him. Our conversations usually end up going in circles because she refuses to acknowledge any viewpoint that isn’t her own.
