Page 103 of Stealing Home

“I have some things your lawyer asked for,” Talia said in a rush. “Medical history and information about the pregnancy. I’d like to give them to you.”

“You could email them to my lawyer.”

“I know.”

Her soft words irritated him more than if she’d given him an excuse. “Then do that.”

“Dom, please.” Her voice caught. “There are things I need to say to you. I’m not asking you to make this easy on me, but I’d really appreciate it if you would meet me somewhere.”

He looked across the kitchen through the sliding door. Outside, the herbs Gavin had planted overflowed the long planters he’d built for Dom. Lucia made an impatient sound and reached for a toy that had rolled just beyond her fingers. Dom reached down and moved it closer.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then what is this about?” Dom pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“What happened… What I did…” She paused, and he heard her exhale through her nose, could picture the way her lips were probably rolled in. “And what happens now.”

Dom placed one hand on the island and braced himself. “Are you asking to see her?”

“If you’ll let me.”

Everything in him wanted to say no. For months, he had imagined Talia calling, and all of them had been some version of the same result: she wanted Lucia back, and Dom was expected to just hand over the daughter he’d learned to soothe and feed and love while Talia was who knew where. He straightened slowly.

“Are you trying to take her?”

“No.” The answer came immediately. “No, Dom. I’m not.”

He wanted to believe her. He also wanted to hang up. Instead, he looked at the time and did a quick calculation.

“You can come here at four.”

“To your apartment?”

Right. She didn’t know he’d moved because she’d run away and abandoned every responsibility she had. It was tempting not to correct her, but Dom wanted to be able to look his daughter in the eye someday when she inevitably asked about her mom.

“I moved. I can send you the address.”

“We can meet somewhere public if that will be easier,” Talia offered.

“I’m not doing this in a restaurant.”

He could already imagine being recognized halfway through a conversation he didn’t want to have. Someone approaching the table to congratulate him on the All-Star selection, or asking about Lucia while Dom tried to keep anger out of his voice. At home, he could close the door, so this could remain private.

“I’ll send you the address,” he said again. “We’ll talk. Then we’ll see about the rest.”

“Okay.” Talia sounded relieved. “Thank you, Dom.”

He ended the call before she could say anything else and before he said something he would regret. For a moment, he stared blankly at the phone in his hand, then Lucia squealed and drew him out of his thoughts. He looked down to find her holding the toy above her face triumphantly.

“Yeah, Lucky girl,” he whispered. “I see you.”

He picked her up and held her against his chest until his heart rate settled. Then he settled Lucia in her swing and called his attorney.

The anger arrived while he sat on hold, followed by fear, and when she finally picked up, everything that happened spilled out before she’d finished greeting him. The conversation was brief and practical, and exactly what Dom needed to calm down. Letting Talia come over did not change the custody order. Letting her see Lucia with Dom present wouldn’t weaken his position as the sole custodial parent. And if she truly intended to cooperate, the proposed custody agreement was ready, and they could meet at the attorney’s office the next morning.

Of course none of that told him whether or not he was doing the right thing.