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Broken Love Story (Love 3) Natasha Madison 2022/8/3 13:53:51

“Not going to happen,” he says.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He smiles. “Did you get the amended copy of the court papers?”

“No. What are you talking about?” He looks at him as Henry laughs again.

“My bad.” He leans over, opening his briefcase. “I filed this late last night. You should be getting a copy sometime today, but I’ll clarify it with the judge.” Henry hands him the paper; he snatches it and looks back at Henry.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope,” he says, looking at me. “I’m taking this very personal, so I’m coming out swinging,” he says, and the lawyer walks away.

I lean over and whisper, “What is going on?”

“You’ll see.” I look over, and the lawyer doesn’t have time to tell the Schneiders because the bailiff informs us to all rise.

The bailiff tells her, “This is the case of Schneider versus Schneider.”

“Thank you, Todd,” she tells him.

I look over at the judge. “Good morning, my name is Judge Kirk, and I will be the one presiding over this case.” She looks over at us and then opens the file. “Oh, this is interesting. We have a countersuit.” I sit here, looking straight ahead, not showing that I have no idea what all this means. “Mr. and Mrs. Schneider, you’re suing Mrs. Schneider for custody of your grandchildren, Lizzie and Daisy Schneider.”

Their lawyer gets up and says, “Yes, your honor, we have reason to believe she is unfit and is alienating their affections from them.”

I force myself not to roll my eyes. The judge nods to him, and he sits down. “Mrs. Schneider, you are suing the Schneiders for a hundred thousand dollars for the emotional distress of Lizzie and Daisy Schneider.”

I look at Henry, who gets up and answers. “Yes, your honor. The children have just lost one parent and informing them that they might lose another was traumatic, to say the very least.”

She nods. “The court is appointing a social worker to visit the children.” She looks down and reads a paper, then looks up at my in-laws. “I really hope that you know what you’re doing,” she warns them. “They just lost a parent. I would hate for them to lose someone else they love just for spite. We reconvene in two weeks.” She gets up, and we stand, waiting for her to walk out of the courtroom. My head falls right away, and I look over at Henry.

“Oh, by the way, you’re countersuing them,” he says, and I laugh quietly, turning and walking out with him. Elliot comes up to us.

“Sam,” he says, “I’d like to come and see the girls.”

“No,” I say right away, and I think I shock him, but I don’t stop. “I trusted you to take care of them, to take them camping, and what did you do? Do you know Lizzie cried the rest of the afternoon?” I tell him, and he looks shocked. “Do you know every single day Daisy asks me if you’re going to take them away?”

“No,” I snap and advance on him, but Henry gets in front of me. “I called you and begged you to call me back, but you didn’t even have the gall to call me back, knowing that I was going to be served. You stayed in my house, and you ate at my table. You know damn well I’m a good mom.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“Yeah, that’s all I get from you lately,” I say and turn around, looking for Blake. I see him right at my back, and I feel good. I feel safe. I feel that it’s going to be okay.

“Mrs. Williams, I would love to have you over for lunch, but I have to be honest, I suck at cooking,” I tell her as she laughs.

“That’s okay, honey, how about we hit a restaurant?” she asks, grabbing her husband’s hand and walking out, leaving me and Blake alone.

He looks around and then comes closer to me, whispering, “How opposed are you if the first time I kissed you was in front of my parents?”

I look at him. “Um … very.”

“Right, so I suggest we speed up lunch,” he says, and my mouth becomes dry. “Shall we?” He ushers me out, but the only thing on my mind is his lips touching mine.

I watch her walk to the car with her head down and her shoulders slouched. When my mother chose the deli next to her house, she sat in the corner booth almost sinking to the floor. We all saw it, and I wasn’t the only one who hated it.

“Starting next week, I’m going to make a list of people we can call to the stand on your behalf,” my father says once we get to her house.

“The list won’t be long,” she says quietly. “I think I have Blake and the kids’ teacher, but …” She shrugs her shoulders.