Page 109 of The Keeper

“Let’s table the holiday discussion for our next meeting and move on to the school year,” our mediator said. She was an elegant, gray-haired woman named Rhonda, but she looked and sounded worn after dealing with us for the past fifty minutes.

Although the Andersons wanted sole custody, the purpose of the mediation was to see if we could agree on shared custody arrangements. So far, we hadn’t been able to agree on a single thing—not living arrangements, not contact schedules, not parental responsibility.

Still, Rhonda made a valiant attempt to squeeze in some productivity before our hour was up. “Let’s discuss potential schedules and what arrangement would best support Evie during the school year.”

“She should stay with us, obviously,” Oswald said. “The school year overlaps with football season, and it’s clear Noah is unable to provide consistent or adequate care and attention while he’s playing. Even when he’s not on the field, he’s too busy partying and sleeping with the nanny to look after Evie.”

My fists curled beneath the table, and I forced myself to count to three before I replied. “First, it’s called the pitch, not the field⁠—”

“Semantics.” He scoffed. “See what I mean about him caring more about football than her? We’re in the⁠—”

“Second, you’ll get school-year custody of her over my dead body. I’ve been involved in her education since she was born. I know the school⁠—”

“—middle of mediation, and he’s worried about proper terminology when⁠—”

“—and I’m perfectly capable of providing for her during football season. It has not been an issue for⁠—”

Our overlapping arguments rose in volume and intensity until we were practically shouting. We glared at each other, fury crackling through the air. It burned through my veins and chipped away at my already tenuous restraint.

Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t⁠—

“If it wasn’t an issue, your exploits wouldn’t be splashed all over the tabloids,” Oswald snapped.

“The tabloids say all sorts of shit,” I snapped back. “They are not a reliable source. Anyone who thinks so is a hare-brained idiot.”

His mustache quivered at my insult. “And your former nannies? Are they unreliable sources too?”

“Mr. Wilson, Mr. Anderson, please lower your voices and stick to the topic at hand.” Rhonda tried to intervene, but we ignored her.

“Those nannies have a personal axe to grind,” I gritted out. “I fired them. They’re vindictive and twisting the narrative to get back at me.”

“Maybe that’s true if we’re talking about one or two, but four came out independently against you.” Oswald sat back with a smug smile. “That’s a clear pattern, especially since Elizabeth and I have witnessed your lack of propriety with our own eyes. We were there when you left us to take care of Evie so you could party with that nanny and another girl. What’s the nanny’s name? Carina? Maybe you fired the other nannies because they wouldn’t give it up for you the way she did. Not everyone is a whore who’ll⁠—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before I shoved my chair back, reached across the table, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt with my uninjured arm. White-hot rage blazed through me, and the force of my grip nearly lifted him out of his seat. “Call Carina a whore again, and I will break your legs myself,” I said, my voice low enough that only he could hear me. “I don’t care how much money you have or how far you hide. I will fucking hunt you down and eviscerate you. Don’t ever put her name in your filthy mouth again.”

Oswald’s face turned scarlet as he spluttered and choked. Elizabeth had been quiet for most of the session, but she gasped now, her hands flying to her throat.

“Mr. Wilson!” Rhonda stood and planted her hands on the table, her expression scandalized. “Let go of Mr. Anderson right now, or I’ll be forced to terminate all mediation, effective immediately, and report this conduct to the court.”

I released Oswald, and he collapsed back in his chair with a gasping breath while I returned to my own seat, my heart hammering. Fuck. So much for not taking the bait. I’d really wanted to smash my fist in his face, but that really wouldn’t have gone my way. I knew I’d already handed him what he wanted—a display of temper he could later weaponize against me—but when he’d insulted Carina, I’d snapped. Besides Evie, she was my biggest weakness. Weeks of stress, sleep deprivation, and attacks on my character had conspired to push me past my breaking point.

I swallowed, regret and self-loathing crowding my lungs. My tie was too tight around my throat. It felt like it was strangling me. I wanted to open a window, run into the hall, tear off my jacket and tie. Anything that would relieve the pressure crushing my chest.

Oswald’s face gradually returned to its normal color. He turned to Rhonda and jabbed a finger at me. “Did you see that? He tried to kill me!”

“Mr. Anderson, please.” Rhonda appeared to have as little patience for his dramatics as she did for my outbursts. “While Mr. Wilson was out of line in his actions, I must also ask you to refrain from purposefully provoking him as you’ve done all session. Both physical aggression and deliberate provocation violate the terms that you agreed to at the start of this session.”

“We understand,” Elizabeth said, slipping smoothly into the conversation. “We apologize for today’s behavior. It’s our first session, and emotions are running high. We’ll be better next week.”

“I certainly hope so.” Rhonda leveled us with a severe look. “Please remember that Evie is the most important consideration here. These sessions are meant to work out what’s best for her. They are not a stage for your ego or pettiness. I encourage all parties to reflect on their actions before our next session. That’s it. You’re dismissed.”

The Andersons and I were silent as we filed out of the room and into the elevator. We rode down to the lobby in silence, but Elizabeth stopped me before I could leave.

“We didn’t want it to come to this,” she said, breaking the quiet.

“That’s rich, considering you were the ones who filed for sole custody.” My voice was bitter. “I bent over backward to accommodate your wishes, even though I had every right to be suspicious of your intentions. And this is how you repay me—by ambushing me with a custody suit while I was in another fucking country. Was that your plan all along? To wait until I was distracted before you made your move?”

“Certainly not.” Elizabeth appeared genuinely offended. “We’ve said all along that we only have Evie’s best interests at heart. That was and still is true.”