Page 2 of Louder Than Words

The man raises an eyebrow. “Which one of you is Allison?” he asks, waving a slender finger between us.

I raise my hand sheepishly. “That’s me.”

He nods, then turns to the she-devil. “Ma’am, you’ll have to wait outside. This is for the parental parties only.”

She glares at me like she’s trying to set me on fire with her eyes, but thankfully walks off when Trevor whispers something to her.

When we step inside, a round table waits in the center, with only three chairs—one at the head and two on either side. Which means Trevor and I have to physically face each other.

Without tearing each other’s eyes out.

I take my seat to the mediator’s left and place my hands nervously on my lap as my heart screams in my chest.

“My name is Mark, and my job here is to help you work toward a plan. This isn’t about winning or losing, it’s about what’s best for your girls,” he says, setting two manila envelopes and a notepad in front of him. “Today we’ll focus on your current schedule, your concerns, and your hopes for the future. You may speak only to me, not to each other. And no interrupting. Understood?”

We both nod slowly, forcing tight-lipped smiles.

“Trevor, would you like to start?”

“I’m here for full custody,” he says, shrugging as if it’s obvious. “I don’t think fifty-fifty is good for the girls. They need stability.”

I raise a brow, already fighting the urge to cut in, because is he serious right now? Stability is exactly what the girls already have.

“Why do you feel it’s in their best interest to be with you full time instead of their mother?”

Trevor lets out a quick, scoffing laugh. “Because I’m not the one dragging them into a life full of drugs or whatever the hell else rock stars do.” Then his eyes snap to mine, and my stomach twists. “They need parents, not overgrown teenagers pretending to be adults.”

I blink. “Excuseme?”

“Let’s stay on track, please,” Mark interjects, reaching out a hand. “Allie, what are your thoughts?”

Too many to spill here, Mark.

“I’m open to sharing custody. I’m not here to fight him, I just won’t give up my rights as their mother. I’ve been there through everything—”

“Yeah, until you weren’t,” Trevor interrupts.

“Trevor, please let her finish,” Mark says before jotting something down on his notepad.

I take a shaky breath and turn back to him. “I’ve been there for our daughters since day one. I’ve takenonevacation since they were born, and it was duringhistime with them. That’s what he’s really upset about.”

“What does your current parenting plan look like?” Mark asks, pen hovering over his notepad.

“The girls live with me primarily, and they’re with Trevor during the summer,” I say quietly. “It’s not perfect, but it worked for us.”

“Until you got distracted,” Trevor mutters under his breath, his eyes drilling holes into mine.

“Can you be more specific, Mr. Monroe?” Mark asks without looking up.

Trevor jolts upright, nearly toppling his chair. “I’d love to, Mark—”

“I amnotdiscussing my personal life unless it becomes relevant,” I snap, nails biting into my palm.

“If either of you has concerns about the other’s home environment, that can be discussed, but it needs to be based on facts, not assumptions,” Mark says, giving Trevor a pointed look.

Neither of us says anything, because what exactly could he say? Everything he has is based on assumptions. He’s had one conversation with Jax and didn’t bother coming to me about anything. He ambushed him in a waiting room after my accident, firing off questions like it was an interrogation. That’s all he has.

“Alright, we’ll stop here for today,” Mark says, glancing between us. “Between now and our next meeting, I want you both to seriously think about what these girls need.” He pauses, tapping the edge of his notepad. “And I don’t just mean where they sleep—think about how this could really affect them. Next time, we’ll discuss schedules and decision-making. But if we can’t reach an agreement by then, you’ll have to meet with the judge.”