Page 110 of The Keeper

“And you think taking her away from her father is in her best interest.”

“It might not seem that way to you, for obvious reasons, but yes,” she said calmly. “We’ve watched you with her for months. I acknowledge that you do your best and you truly care about her, but can you honestly say these recent headlines don’t hold some grain of truth? You leave her with her friends’ parents so you can drink with your teammates. You go on dates with random women or, worse, your nanny, and you’re not discreet about it. Headlines aside, think about what this type of attention will do to her. The scrutiny, the harassment, the paparazzi lurking outside your house, hoping to get a million-dollar picture. We’re all heroes in our own heads, Noah, but you’re too blinded by your intentions to recognize the consequences. I know you love her. She is, after all, your daughter. But she’s also our granddaughter, and I say this with all due respect. You are not equipped to be a full-time caretaker for her.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. The same sick feeling I’d felt when I found out about their custody suit surged through me and threatened to upchuck my breakfast. I wanted to shake them and tell them that, like the media, they were deliberately interpreting my actions in bad faith. I wanted to list every sacrifice I’d made for Evie and detail every happy, quiet moment we’d shared that no headline could accurately capture. But I knew none of that would make a difference. The Andersons were set in their beliefs, and these mediation sessions were just theater while both sides maneuvered their chess pieces behind the scenes.

“This will never stand up in court,” I said. My mouth tasted like pennies. “Say whatever you want, but history and facts are on my side.”

“We’ll see about that.” Oswald’s eyes gleamed with leftover resentment from our earlier interaction. “Hopefully, you’ll see reason before we reach that point. But know this: we will drag this out for as long as we need to. We have the time, money, and resources to outlast you. It’s not a matter of whether we’ll get custody; it’s a matter of when. So ask yourself how much you’re willing to lose before you accept the fact that you’ll never win.”

CHAPTER 44

NOAH

Elizabeth and Oswald’s words were still ringing in my head when I arrived home later that afternoon. They were bluffing, trying to rattle me, and it was working.

My already-frayed nerves stretched thinner when I saw the paparazzi waiting for me. The Andersons had been right about that much—the press had found out where I lived, and they’d been camped outside my house for days.

“Noah! Noah, what do you have to say about the latest claims from your former nannies?”

“Is it true you’re planning to propose to Carina?”

“What have your teammates said? How will this affect your upcoming season with Blackcastle?”

I ignored their shouts as I drove through the gates. I’d had them installed around my house as an emergency precaution when the paps first started showing up. I’d also hired private security who patrolled the perimeter, keeping people at bay, but they couldn’t be there twenty-four seven. I didn’t want them there twenty-four seven.

I entered my house, my nerves jangling. This was supposed to be my safe haven, but these days, it felt more like a besieged castle.

“How did the session go?”

I paused at the sound of Carina’s voice. She was coming down the stairs, her face pale and wan. She hadn’t left the house in days, and we’d somehow managed to keep the fact that she was still living here a secret from the press. But this wasn’t sustainable. We both knew it. We just didn’t know what to do about it.

“Not great.” I summarized the session and my conversation with the Andersons afterward. My voice sounded flat and exhausted to my own ears.

“They’re trying to get in your head,” she said when I finished. Worry ran beneath her otherwise gentle voice. “You can’t let them.”

“I know.” The words lacked conviction. I’d never stop fighting for Evie, but I was so damn tired. Every time I clawed my way to the surface for air, something else dragged me back under.

Even my relationship with Carina was strained. She’d been nothing but supportive, but the stress of the situation was starting to take its toll on both of us. I wasn’t the only one affected; her name was splashed all over the tabloids too, and she’d had to endure the harassment that came with that. Our golden, romantic days in South Africa seemed like a lifetime ago. No jokes, no sex, no stolen kisses or easy smiles. Just a constant, overarching sense of dread as we waited for yet another shoe to drop.

Carina closed the distance between us. She placed a hand on my arm, her eyes searching my face. “Are you sure you don’t want to bring Evie back to the UK?” she asked softly. “I know this is a lot, but maybe you can have her stay in the countryside until this all dies down. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“No,” I said firmly. “It’s better she stays in Michigan. Having her here will make matters worse. I don’t want her…She needs to be protected from all of this.”

“She’s seen the headlines. I understand you want to protect her, but I think she⁠—”

“I said no.”

She withdrew her hand, her face clouding with hurt. Dammit. I felt like absolute shit. She was only trying to help, but I couldn’t bring myself to take back the words. Evie staying in the US was the one thing I wouldn’t budge on, not even for Carina.

I’d finally talked to my parents last week. The American media had long moved on from my scandal. They didn’t know the full extent of how bad it was over here in the UK, but they knew it was pretty bad. Thankfully, they hadn’t asked any questions about Carina or admonished me for keeping the Andersons’ custody suit from them. They’d simply asked what I needed and how they could help.

I’d told them to keep Evie with them for the summer, as planned, and shield her from the internet as much as possible. She’d already seen bits and pieces of the headlines, though she’d refused to talk about it during our last conversation. I think she was trying to make me feel better by pretending it wasn’t happening, but that made me feel worse. I was the parent. I was supposed to protect her, not the other way around.

The only thing she was unaware of was the custody suit. I hated keeping it from her, but I didn’t want to freak her out until we found a solution. The situation was made worse by the fact that she liked the Andersons. The last thing I wanted was to drag her into the middle of a custody war and expose her to the dirty tactics.

“How are you holding up?” I asked Carina, switching subjects.

The media had been digging up every detail they could find about her. They hadn’t found much, thank god, but even the few details they’d uncovered—like where her parents worked and the names of some of her ex-boyfriends—seemed horribly invasive.