Chapter 20: Couldn't Hold It Together

Hailey's POV

I held it together in the courtroom. Held it together while Floyd's lawyers shook hands and smiled like they'd won the lottery. Held it together while Christina assured me this was just temporary, that surprised visits weren't full custody, that we'd fight harder next time. I held it together in the car while Maxwell sat beside me, his hand hovering near mine but not touching, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed anymore.

I held it together walking into the penthouse, taking off my heels, setting down my purse with hands that only shook a little.

"Hailey..."

"I'm fine." My voice came out steady. "I just need a minute."

I walked to the master bathroom and closed the door. Turned on the shower. Stepped inside fully clothed. And couldn't hold it anymore.

The sobs came violently, ripping out of my chest like something was tearing me apart from the inside. I sank down against the tile, cold water streaming over me, soaking through my dress, my hair, my skin.

Two hours every Saturday.

Supervised for now.

But for how long?

What if the judge decided Floyd was what's best? What if three months from now, it became unsupervised? What if six months from now, it became weekends? What if a year from now, Gio was calling Floyd "Dad" and I was just the woman who'd kept them apart? What if I lost him?

The thought made me physically sick.

I'd survived poverty. Survived my father's death. Survived building a life from nothing.

But I couldn't survive losing Gio. I wouldn't. I'd die without my son.

The bathroom door opened.

"Hailey?" Maxwell's voice, concerned.

I couldn't respond. Couldn't stop crying long enough to form words.

Footsteps approached. Then the shower door opened, and suddenly he was there, stepping inside fully clothed, expensive suit instantly soaked, his shoes still on.

"Come here." His arms came around me, pulling me against his chest.

I collapsed against his chest, my fists clutching his wet shirt, sobs shaking my entire body.

"I can't lose him." The words came out broken. "I can't...Max, I can't do this..."

"You're not losing him." His hand cradled the back of my head, holding me against him. "Two hours supervised. That's nothing. He comes home to us every single time."

"But what if it's not just two hours?" I pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tears and water. "What if Floyd fights for more? What if the judge gives him unsupervised visits? What if Gio starts liking him? What if he starts asking to stay with Floyd instead of coming home? What if..."

"Enough." His hands came up to frame my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. Water ran down his jaw, his neck, soaking through his shirt. "That's not going to happen."

"I'm so terrified!" My voice cracked. "That's my son. My baby. The only thing in my life that's ever been completely, unconditionally mine. And now some judge is telling me I have to share him with a man who abandoned us..."

"He's not taking him." Maxwell's voice was firm. "Supervised visits with a court-appointed observer. Floyd gets two hours to pretend to be a dad while Gio counts down until he can come home. That's not losing him."

"You don't know that." Tears mixed with shower water, streaming down my face. "What if Gio bonds with him? What if he realizes Floyd can give him things I can't? What if...."

"He won't." His thumbs brushed my cheeks. "You're his mother. The woman who's been there every single day of his life. The one he runs to when he's scared. Nothing's going to change that."

The certainty in his voice cracked something inside me.

"I'm so scared." The admission came out barely a whisper. "I've never been this scared in my entire life."

"I know." His forehead pressed against mine, water streaming over both of us. "But you're not alone anymore. You understand that? You're not doing this by yourself."

I stared at him, this man who'd stepped into a running shower fully clothed just to hold me. Who'd claimed my son on national television without asking. Who stood between me and the world like a wall.

Who looked at me like I was something worth protecting.

We were both soaked, pressed against the tile, water cascading over us. His hands still framed my face. My fists still clutched his shirt. The space between us was inches, but it felt like standing on the edge of something I couldn't take back.

And maybe it was because of the fact we were inches apart, or because of the tension building, but without thinking I kissed him.

Desperately. Like he was the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control.

His response was immediate, his hands tightening in my wet hair, his mouth opening against mine, kissing me back with the same desperation.

It wasn't gentle. It was need and fear and something else I couldn't name, all tangled together.

His body pressed against mine, backing me up until my spine hit the cold tile. One of his hands slid down to my waist, gripping hard through the soaked fabric of my dress.

I kissed him harder, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heart hammer beneath my palms.

His other hand found the zipper at my back, tugging it down slowly. The wet fabric clung to my skin as he started peeling it away, his knuckles brushing my spine.

"Hailey..." He pulled back slightly, breathing hard. "Are you sure..."

"Shut up." I grabbed his tie, pulling him back. "Don't ask me if I'm thinking clearly. Just shut up..."

He kissed me again, cutting off my words.

His hands pushed the dress off my shoulders, and I shrugged out of it, the wet fabric falling to the shower floor with a slap. My fingers found his tie, yanking it loose, then moved to the buttons of his shirt.

They were slippery, difficult. I got three undone before losing patience and just pulled, hearing them pop.

His shirt joined my dress on the floor.

We were both breathing hard now, pressed against the tile, water streaming over us, clothes half-off, hands everywhere, and past the point of control.