It’s going to be fine, you guys, I promise,” Cal tells the kids afterwards, explaining the brief—very edited—version of events. “We’ll visit all the time. I’ll come to Viv’s, and you’ll come see me at McAdams HQ. We’ll make it work.” He swallows hard. “I love you, okay? I love you more than anything. Remember that.”

“But I don’t understand.” Lottie looks close to tears. “You said everything would be fine. You promised!”

“I know,” Cal says. “But this is out of my hands. I’ll call you tonight and see how you’re settling in.”

The kids look like they’re about to melt down, but there’s no time for that. Vivian appears.

“Time to go!” she trills loudly. “Kids, in the car. Now.”

They have a final hug and trail after her, then suddenly it’s just Cal and me in the hallway, like the world’s worst party has just come to an end and all that’s left to do is clean up the mess.

“Cal,” I begin, sick to my stomach. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.” God, his voice is so tense. Now that the kids are gone again, he’s not even trying to put on a smile. For all his what ifs I don’t think he ever let himself believe this could happen, not really.

But it did. Because of me.

I need to explain. “I wrote all that stuff before we knew each other,” I try, taking a step toward him. Cal flinches away like I’m contagious. “That first morning when you left me with them—”

“To close on the house, you mean?” he interrupts.

“I didn’t know that’s what you were doing,” I protest. “You didn’t tell me, so I had no idea—”

“Exactly,” Cal snaps, turning on me with anger burning in his eyes. “You didn’t know anything about me, which didn’t stop you from putting all kinds of slanderous shit in writing and then leaving it around where anyone could see.”

“I was venting!” I protest. “I had no idea Vivian was going to snoop in my phone. How would I ever have known that? I thought it was harmless, I—”

“Nothing is harmless when there are kids involved,” he counters, an angry edge of sarcasm in his voice. “You’re the one who told me that.”

I exhale. “You’re right,” I say, miserable. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I promised Ez and Lottie I’d make this work,” he says, his whole body tense. His hands are gripping into two fists at his sides, and I can only imagine how he must feel, watching them walk away. “I promised Rob and Mel! And now they’re gone, and the kids are, too, and I can’t do a goddamn thing about it, and all because—” He catches himself, but he doesn’t need to say it.

This is all my fault.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him again, desperately. “I’m so sorry, Cal.”

“Stop saying that!” he exclaims hoarsely. “It doesn’t change a thing. None of this would be happening if you’d just minded your goddamn business and stayed out of it!”

I pause. As sorry as I am, there’s a bitterness in Cal’s voice I just can’t ignore. “How was I supposed to stay out of it? That was the day you just dumped the kids on me and took off—”

“To buy them a house!”

“—and blew up at me when I dared suggest that maybe you needed some help,” I finish, determined. “Of course I wouldn’t have written that stuff if I’d known anyone would ever see it, but I’m guessing you have your share of messages you’d rather not share with the court!”

“That’s not the same.” Cal swears under his breath, looking frustrated. “All I know is that you just dropped into my life with no warning, and now—”

“You hired me!” I protest. “This is what you wanted. You planned on lying to try and win the kids, and I know you did it for the right reasons, and I fucked up too, but don’t act like you didn’t have any say in this either!”

Cal snaps his jaws shut. “You’re right,” he says, his voice like steel. “You kept trying to tell me that, didn’t you? That this was just a business arrangement. But I didn’t want to listen.”

My heart sinks at how impassive he sounds now, like he’s talking about a deal for the company, not our lives. Our hearts. “Cal,” I begin, “that’s not what I meant.”

“This was a business arrangement,” he repeats, “and now it’s outlasted its usefulness.” He gives me a cold look. “You’ve fulfilled your contract, as far as I’m concerned. You can go play some other idiot’s girlfriend. I never want to see you again.”

“Are you serious right now? Cal.” I’m reaching for him, ready to fight—ready to fight for us—but Cal just shrugs.

“Like I said, the contract is terminated. Go. Now. Before I have security remove you.”

I stand there in shock. I can’t believe that he would just shut down like this. After everything he said about us being together, he’s turned on a dime. I search for the words to convince him, make him see that we can get through this—together—but nothing comes.

Because he’s right, I realize, with an aching heart. There’s no way for me to clean up this mess. The kids are gone, and he’ll never, ever forgive me for it. All I can do is get out of his way. “Okay,” I say softly, holding back tears. I take a deep breath. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at me, just stands there with his fists jammed in his pockets, staring at the wall.

So I go. I swallow hard and force myself to keep my back straight as I walk down the hallway and out the door of the courthouse. I make it all the way out onto the streets of Boston before I start to cry.