We’re all due to meet with the judge the next morning. It’s my first thought when I open my eyes, but when I roll over, I can see Cal’s been up and worrying about it for a while. He’s lying on his back and staring at the hotel ceiling, one hand playing in his dark, messy hair.

“Hey,” I say, propping myself up on one elbow. “Thinking about the hearing? It’s going to be okay.”

Cal doesn’t look so sure. “Maybe we shouldn’t have left them last night,” he says. “Maybe I should have just paid Vivian out like she wanted. Maybe—”

“Cal,” I interrupt, before he can spiral. “Listen to me. You’re an amazing parent to those two, okay? When they’re with you, they know they’re safe and loved and cared for. That’s the only thing that matters—to them and, I bet, to the judge.”

“I just keep thinking of all the things that might go wrong.” Cal looks anxious. “What if Viv is more convincing than I am? What if the judge thinks they should go to a blood relative? What if the other lawyer digs up some model I dated in 2005 to come talk about how I didn’t hold the door for her?”

“What if it’s a birthday party?” I say wryly.

Cal looks confused. “What?”

I reach out and lace my fingers through his. “When I was a kid, every time I went over to a friend’s house I had this weird fear that maybe it was a birthday party and I had just forgotten, and I’d show up and there’d be a bunch of other people there, and everybody would have brought a gift but me.”

He smirks. “That is . . . a weird fear.”

“I know that, thank you!” I sit up. “I was an anxious kid. Anyway, it got to be kind of a joke with my brothers and sister, whenever any one of us got the what ifs. What if nobody likes me in high school? What if this guy not calling me back means he has a crush on somebody else now?”

“What if it’s a birthday party?” Cal finishes. “I get it. I know it’s not a birthday party. And I know you’re trying to distract me right now.”

“Busted,” I grin. “But all logic says those kids are going to come home with you at the end of the day, and stay there. And all the what ifs in the world aren’t going to change that.”

“Logic, huh?” Cal nudges me in the side. “Is that how you got over your fear of getting caught without a birthday present?”

“Oh, no way,” I say with a grin. “I made my mom carry a gift-wrapped ant farm in the trunk of her car for like three years. That way I was always prepared in case of emergency.”

Now Cal really does laugh. He pulls me back onto the bed and presses a kiss against my mouth. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” he says quietly.

Something about the tone in his voice makes my heart shiver in my chest. “You could have,” I say lightly. “But I like to think I added some style to the proceedings.”

“More than a little.” Cal trails his thumb along my jawline. He looks at me seriously. “I don’t want this to be over,” he says softly. “The two of us, I mean. What we’re doing.”

My heart stops. “Cal . . .”

“I understand if you have stuff in New York you need to get back to,” he tells me. “I’m not asking you to uproot your entire life. But . . . I don’t want to lose this just because some stupid contract is over. We’ve been pretending since that night in Vegas, but I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to be with you for real.”

I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. There are so many reasons this is a dumb idea: after all, my professional life is still a disaster. I’m in no position to jump into any kind of relationship, especially where kids are involved. But I think about cooking dinner together at the house out in Brookline. I think about taking Ez and Lottie skating come winter. I think about waking up next to Cal in the morning, and before I even know I’m going to do it, I reach up to cup his face. “OK.”

Cal grins. “OK?”

“Yes.” I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I have no idea how it’ll work or what it’ll look like. But I want to be with you, too.”

---

We take the kids to breakfast at the train station diner before the hearing, Ezra chatting away about what a good time he had at Cal’s mom’s last night. Even Lottie seems to have enjoyed herself. “Auntie Diana has a dog,” Ezra reports. “But I pretended the dog was a dinosaur. And then he ate my leg off.” He grins at us over his scrambled eggs.

I muster a smile, both hands wrapped around my coffee cup. I know I told Cal not to worry, but my stomach flips every time I think of the possibility of the judge going the other way. We meet Cal’s mom back at the courthouse; she’s going to watch the kids while we go in and see the judge.

“Ready to get this squared away?” Cal’s lawyer, Lydia greets us.

“Hell yes.” Cal lets out a breath. “The sooner we have everything signed and sealed, the better.”

Finally, the clerk calls us in and we head back into the judge’s chambers. It feels like it’s been no time at all since the last time we were here, and forever, both at the same time.

Has it really been ten days since I hurtled down this hallway and laid eyes on Cal all over again? I can’t believe everything’s moved so fast, but then again, we did have a head start in Vegas.

And sometimes, it just works.

Vivian and her lawyer are already waiting, sitting on the opposite side of the room. Ever since Cal pointed out her outfits, I can’t help but look skeptically at Viv’s demure flowered dress, its Peter Pan collar and dowdy, modest drape. She’s wearing a costume, I want to shout. Can’t you see she’s not for real?

“All right,” the judge says cheerfully, shaking out her enormous glasses and jamming them onto her owlish face. Today, her brooch is in the shape of a tree frog with two ruby-red eyes. “Let’s get cooking. I’ve spoken to both parties individually, as well as met with the social worker and both children, and I’m ready to deliver a decision.” She looks up then, glances around the room. “The good news is, in spite of their circumstances, in many ways Ezra and Carlotta are extremely lucky. They’ve got two different family members prepared to give them a stable, loving home, which is more than I can say for the vast majority of children in their situation.” She sits back in her chair then, looking at Vivian. “It’s clear to this court that you care for them, Ms. DuPuis. But unless there’s a serious reason not to, we prefer to let the children themselves choose who they’d like to live with. And both children expressed a desire to live with Mr. McAdams—”

“Your honor?” Vivian’s lawyer holds a hand up. “We’ve got one more piece of information we’d like to share before you make your ruling.”

She can’t be serious!

“Oh?”

Vivian’s lawyer nods primly. “I think you’ll find it’s relevant to the proceedings.”

“Well,” the judge says dryly, “I do love a surprise.” I can’t tell if she’s kidding or not. “What have we got?”

Vivian’s lawyer opens a folder and pulls out a sheet of paper. “My client was privy to a series of text messages from Ms. Robinson to a friend in which she expressed serious doubts about Mr. McAdams’s fitness as a guardian—and, actually, suggests she might not be Mr. McAdams’s fiancée at all.”

What the hell?

I freeze, and Cal stiffens beside me. The judge tilts her head, curious now. “Well, if she’s not his fiancée, then who is she?”

“We believe he hired her to manipulate the court, your honor.”

My heart pounds. The judge’s gaze cuts to me. “Is this true?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Shit, what can I say? It was one thing to make up a vague story about how Cal and I knew each other. It’s another to lie directly to a judge when she’s asking me, flat out. “Well,” I begin, “you see, your honor, it’s kind of . . . complicated.”

“Your honor,” Lydia jumps in, saving me from myself. “May I ask how Ms. DuPuis came by the alleged text messages? It hardly seems fair for her to be sitting here making these accusations when for all we know, she’s fabricated the whole thing.”

“Ms. Robinson left the phone at my client’s house,” Vivian’s lawyer explains smugly. “When Ms. DuPuis was trying to get in touch with Ms. Robinson to let her know she had it, she accidentally saw the messages. Of course, she was shocked and concerned about the welfare of the children, so she made copies to send to me.”

“That’s impossible!” I blurt before I can stop myself. “I left my phone for like two minutes! She must have gone through it on purpose looking for dirt. It’s an illegal search, and not admissible as evidence in court!”

The judge gives me a look. “Ms. DuPuis is not law enforcement, Ms. Robinson. And this isn’t a criminal trial. If the messages are relevant, then I want to hear them.” She holds her hand out for the transcript, peering over the tops of her glasses and humming to herself as she reads: “Tainted Love,” I realize after a moment.

“What did you say?” Cal whispers to me, but I can only shrug helplessly. I can’t think of anything, this whole arrangement was top secret. I didn’t text Olivia, and there’s nobody else I would have—

Oh shit.

Hallie.

I remember the texts I sent her that first night, when Cal was being such an ass. I can’t recall exactly what I told her, but I was venting like crazy, and it can’t be good.

The judge sits back, considering us all across the desk. “Well, Mr. McAdams, I’ll be honest. I don’t know what troubles me more: the fact that you seem to have paid someone off to claim stability, or that she has such grave doubts about your fitness as a parent.”

“I—what?” Cal shakes his head. “What do you mean? What does that say?”

“See for yourself,” the judge offers, passing him the transcript.

“ ‘He’s about as qualified to be a parent as I am to be a billionaire’s fake fiancée,’ ” he reads, his voice clear and quiet. “ ‘His apartment is a total joke. He has no idea what he’s doing with these kids. He just randomly dumped them on me and took off . . . to buy a prostitute’?” His gaze flicks in my direction for half a second before dropping to the paper one more time. “ ‘It’s a miracle nobody has drowned in a swimming pool yet.’ ”

“Cal,” I begin, my voice wavering, but he keeps reading until he gets to the kicker: “ ‘I honestly feel like maybe they should live with their aunt after all.’ ”

Cal sets the paper on the desk. For a moment nobody says anything. I can hear my own heart thudding in my ears. “Well,” he says finally, looking around the judge’s chambers. He looks utterly defeated, like a man who knows he’s lost. “I guess I know what everyone thinks about me now.”

“It’s not true!” I jump in—desperate to fix this, to explain myself somehow. “You don’t understand. I was joking, blowing off steam. I didn’t know how good he is with them, I hadn’t seen what a great parent—”

“That’s enough.” The judge looks at me coldly. “You’ve said quite enough, don’t you think?”

I look miserably around the room. Viv is smirking, pleased as a cat with a bowl of cream. Cal is slumped, ignoring me, staring at the floor.

The judge sighs. “Well, this wasn’t what I was planning to do today,” she says, sounding reluctant. “But I don’t see that I have any choice but to go ahead and award Ms. DuPuis primary custody, with weekly supervised visits for Mr. McAdams. We can reconvene for a status update in six months.” She takes her glasses off again, perching them precariously in her forest of frizzy auburn hair. “We’re through here. Get out of my chambers, all of you. I’m going to lunch.”

And just like that, it’s done.