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But it’s not twenty. I won’t be forty-two. Madden won’t be fifty-six. Dad won’t be eighty.

Ten years isn’t nearly as bad as we thought he’d get.

He could have gotten up to twenty, and I can’t help but wonder why the judge went easy on him.

The judge says some more things, including how he can appeal the ruling, but I’ve tuned out as I focus on one hundred twenty months.

I think back to when I was a kid and was waiting for a specific day—maybe a trip to Disney or my birthday—and I’d make those little construction paper rings and staple them to intertwine so I could rip one off every day leading up to my target date.

I think about making one for one hundred twenty months.

Not for every day. That would be a lot of days. But the months. There are a lot of those, too.

I think about how the last few months have flown by, how the months seem to pass me by faster and faster the older I get. I can only imagine what the next decade will bring.

I can only imagine what type of world my father will wake up to one hundred twenty months down the road.

The judge adjourns the court, and my dad is escorted out of the courtroom.

And that’s it. All seven of us Bradley siblings gathered here for a hearing that lasted twenty-one minutes.

There was nobody here to contest the facts. Nobody to admit that they had a hand in things. They get to slink away while my dad serves the time for the whole operation.

“Ten years,” Madden murmurs, the first to break the awkward silence among the fourteen of us.

“Ten years,” Everleigh repeats.

“At least it wasn’t twenty,” Dex says. “Anyone want to grab some food? I’m starving.”

That rouses a little chuckle out of the rest of us, and we start to file out of the rows as Paul turns around to face us. His eyes zero in on me. “Ivy, I’m glad you’re here today. A word?”

I glance at Cash, and I turn back to Paul with a nod as the rest of my family heads out to the hallway. I shimmy past Cash and his hard body to get around him, and I meet Paul up by the gate.

“I have your divorce papers,” he says, his voice low. “I reviewed your contract, and it’s a standard postnup. There’s no contract detailing the end date, and even if there were, it would be difficult to enforce considering the text message about the bet exists as evidence. I see that Mr. Maddox is here with you today.” He glances up, and I can tell that his eyes connect with Cash’s. “I can deliver the paperwork to him myself.”

I close my eyes as I try to figure out what the hell I want to do, and I smell him by my side as he moves in, that familiar scent that’s somehow still comforting. And arousing, not that this is the time for that.

“I heard my name,” Cash says quietly.

“I asked my family lawyer to draw up divorce papers,” I blurt. I glance up at him, and I see the pain twisting his face.

“Oh.”

I press my lips together as I try to think about what to do.

The last four days have been a complete and total emotional whirlwind. There’s been change, upheaval, and a lot of tears, but there have been quiet moments of joy, too, like learning Everleigh is pregnant, learning I have access to my trust fund, and finding Cash standing at Everleigh’s doorstep.

I’m not ready for more change and more upheaval. I don’t know that I’m ready to forgive quite yet, either, but I don’t think I’m ready to call it quits.

“Thank you, Paul. I’m just not quite sure I’m ready to serve those papers quite yet.”

My eyes are on Cash as I say the words, and his face lights up. He grabs onto me and pulls me into him, crushing me to his body as he holds me tightly, and I snake my arms more loosely around him.

And even though I don’t know where I want to land, even though I don’t even have a house right now…this feels like home.

The realization hits me with brute force. That’s why I’ve felt so lost the last few days. That’s why I had no clue where I wanted to end up.

Because home just might be right here in Cash’s arms.