M iriam settled for a sum of money—a big sum, but nothing I can’t handle—and I’m awarded shared custody of the babies. When the gavel comes down, and the case is closed, I should be elated. Instead, I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet .

Paisley was right—telling the truth was the best medicine. She was never a threat to me .

Never.

When the judge heard her, plus when records showed that the kids have spent more time with me while Miriam’s been off gallivanting with her new boyfriend, my ex was the one in danger of losing shared custody. That’s when her tune changed, and she decided to settle instead. If Paisley hadn’t testified I would’ve likely lost this case .

I shake my attorney’s hand, then run off to catch up with Paisley. She exits the courtroom, me working my way in front of her before she can escape. “Paisley,” I say, but she doesn’t stop. Her face is stoic, as she keeps her eyes riveted in front of her instead of me. “Paisley, thank you for everything you said in there. I really owe you .”

She refuses to speak to me. It stings .

I’ve never been one to worry much if a woman decides she has better things to do than speak to me. Women usually come around when they’re ready, and most of the time it has nothing to do with me. But this time, being ignored burns like Paisley’s shackled me against the walls of Hell .

“Paisley…”

“Leave me alone, Logan.” She walks on ahead of me .

I stop to watch her go. In the dark blue wrap dress she’s wearing, her curves are accentuated and her hair appears lighter against the dark background. Everything about her form and aura saddens me, because I fucked things up. I did exactly what I swore up and down I wouldn’t do .

I treated her badly yet again .

She saved my ass and asked nothing in return .

She did it because she loved me. In return, I hurt her like the colossal dick that I am .

Clearly, I don’t deserve her .

Outside the courtroom, it’s raining. Someone appears by my side with an umbrella to shield me. I don’t even know who it is, because reporters and cameras are in my face. “Mr. Raider, you’ve just been awarded shared custody of your children in a long, exhausting battle. What are you going to do now ?”

“I’m going to Disney World. Get the fuck out of my face.” I push the reporter to the side so I can reach my car .

“Mr. Raider, your former nanny and girlfriend testified in court, but you still emerged victorious. Will you be getting back together with her now? Why did she leave alone ?”

I look directly into the camera. “Miss Carrington is a woman of substance and integrity. She’s too good for the likes of me, and she deserves the very best in life going forward. Meanwhile, I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting the moment she left me. Good day.” I yank myself free from the crowd, slip a hundred into the valet’s hand, and step into the quietude of my closed car to catch my breath .

You’re single again. No women to nag you or force you to be a better person. You’re in control of your life again. Just the way you always wanted it, asshole .

* * *

W ealth, fame, a luminous career—none of it matters without someone to share it with. Without Paisley, I should say. No other woman I’d even come close to wanting to share it with. But I can’t call her. As much as I should beg her to take me back, I won’t. Because… What’ll end up happening is I’ll only disappoint her again. My temper will always get the best of me. It’s only a matter of time before I’m saying dick things to her, and she doesn’t need that disrespect .

When the kids aren’t here, I get my work done and then I say goodbye to the real world. At home, an endless string of drinks keeps me company .

The morning when the kids come back, Vivian is here early to welcome them. So much for not having any women around to nag me. Get out of bed, Logan. Get your shit together, Logan. Come and kiss your babies, Logan .

Good thing she’s here, though, because I’m hungover and don’t want to get out of bed. I could hire another nanny, but Vivian insists the kids need at least one family member spending time with them. She’s right. If Paisley can’t be with them, then I don’t want anyone else. The kids wouldn’t want anyone else either, and I can always create a schedule where I work from home part of the time. I mean, they don’t need me at the office every moment of every day .

“Where’s Daddy?” I hear them around the house giving Aunt Viv a hard time. She keeps trying to usher them away from my room so they won’t be subjected to seeing me unshaven and two shades away from alcohol poisoning .

“Daddy is sleeping. He’ll come down soon unless he wants to lose the custody he was just awarded!” she shouts loud enough for my benefit. Of course, the kids have no clue what the fuck she’s talking about, but that’s my cue to get up and be a man. Get out of bed, regardless of how pathetic and self-loathing I feel, and rise up to the occasion .

If anyone can cheer me up, it’s the Terribles .

“Okay, okay…” I roll out of bed, shower, and venture out of the cave, ready to face the day. Somehow. But not really. If I have to lie on the couch all day while the kids bounce around and dig their heels into my ribcage, then that’s how I’ll spend time with them. “You can go, Aunt Viv. Thanks for watching them.” I walk into the kitchen to pour myself coffee and take three headache pills .

“I don’t feel confident leaving you here with them,” she says, turning and heading back to the play room with a snack for the kids .

That triggers me. Not sure if it’s because she doesn’t trust me with my own children or because it’s true that I’m untrustworthy right now. “I’d never hurt them, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Go ahead and go .”

“Logan, the way I see it, you all need watching over right now.” And then, she disappears down the hall .

I guess it’s true, I could be considered a sick person right now. Can’t sleep, drinking too much, depressed as fuck…I wouldn’t want someone like me caring for the kids either. Somehow, I have to get my ass back in gear. I can’t go on like this, hating myself for losing Paisley. I need a plan. Part of that plan must be therapy of some kind. If I ever have the chance to talk to Paisley again, I’m going to want her to know that I’m serious about doing better .

She deserves that. She deserves more than that, really, but therapy is a start .

I spend the day hanging with the kids part of the time and doing video calls with work the rest of the time. “Daddy!” The Terribles attack me, a wonderful feeling to have little arms and baby’s breath surrounding me, reminding me of what matters, but at times, I’m irked and need a moment to regroup or talk with my team .

I don’t know how working moms do it .

To make matters worse, the kids keep asking for Paisley. “Where Paisy go, Da-yee?” A question I hear no less than fifty times a day. The answer is always the same. “She went home, guys. But she loves you.” It’s all I can bring myself to say .

It’s hard to feel whole. For all intents and purposes, my children should be enough for me. Nothing should feel like it’s missing when I’m with them. But it’s a tough day, one where it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what’s bothering me .

When the kids sit at their little table to color some pages, I sit with them. Their chairs are like tiny stools for my butt, and I feel like the Jolly Green Giant sitting at their table, but I pull out paper, too, and start coloring. Only my drawings are about buildings—lines and cityscapes and trees. The kids color and watch me work with fascination. Whereas they’re filling in Mickey’s shorts, I’m designing something .

Something curvy, something colorful, something beautiful. Something that reminds me of the woman who saved my ass and almost saved my soul. If I can’t be with her, then I’ll pay homage to her. I work and color and draw until I’ve created an addendum to the urban center project, and it’s the missing ingredient .

Another video call comes in, and my engineers and architects are all thrilled with the end result. The final approval is tomorrow, and they feel they’re ready, but I’m not. There was and has been something missing from the design this whole time. Now I know what it is .

“So, we’re ready, boss?” my head engineer and project manager wants to know. His eyebrows appear hopeful, but their work is not done yet, unfortunately .

I have to see this come to fruition. I have to see this as part of the New York skyline. She’s my muse and she was right in front of me all along. “We’ll ask for an extension,” I inform him, and six members of the team all standing behind him drag their faces .

“Excuse me, sir ?”

“Ask for an extension. We’re not done with the design. I’ve just emailed you all a new building I want built next to the library to complement it .”

“But, sir…we can’t…we’re all exhausted. Perhaps we should talk about it, and — ”

“Make it happen,” I say and hang up the video conference .