The Muse's Undoing

The sex—intense. Every time we’re together, we go nearly nonstop until Matthew wears himself out, which is usually well after I’m totally spent. But that doesn’t stop him, and I’m happy to be the thing he wants to use. The only thing. He’s scheduled for his rapid test today, and by tomorrow, if all goes as well as I expect it will, he’ll be able to breed me the way the good lord intended. And he can get off the PReP.

Because I won’t share him, and he knows it.

I’m at work Thursday afternoon, working on an opening monologue when an email from my divorce attorney shows up on my screen. I frown, hovering over it to read the subject line.

Amendment to Custody Agreement.

The divorce was settled over a year ago, as were the custody arrangements. I rarely, if ever, hear from my attorney Hillary. Nicole and I have a good relationship. If we need to switch weekends or rearrange our schedules, we text and work it out. My mouth dries up instantly, my throat like sandpaper.

My first instinct isn’t to open the email. It’s to call Nicole. My hand hesitates over my phone where I see that Hillary called. Twice. Fuck, I’ve had the thing on silent since the editorial meeting. Taking a shaky breath, I open the email.

I read Hillary’s note with a sense of impending doom.

Fischer,

I hope I’ve managed to get in touch with you before you see this, but here it is. I’m not sure what’s going on. Lacy was very cold when I spoke with her and wouldn’t give me much information, so I hope everything’s okay. Please reach out if this is all news to you. I’m assuming you would have let me know if you needed any changes.

Long story short: She’s asking for full custody with no visitation. Are you going overseas again?

Call me,

Hillary

She’s what?

I skim the attached document, and sure enough—out of nowhere, Nicole wants to take Vaughn away from me—and my family.

I scroll back to the top and read the filing word for word. I find no indication as to why for three pages, until I get to it.

Unsafe living conditions. Suspicion of abuse/neglect.

Rage is the first emotion to bubble to the surface. The implication that I would ever put my little boy in harm’s way is too absurd to entertain. But abuse?

Abuse?

I grab my phone and call Hillary.

“What is this?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” she says.

“I have no idea,” I say. “Lacy didn’t tell you anything?” Lacy is Nicole’s attorney.

“No. Did he break his arm or something?”

“No! He was perfectly fine when she picked him up Wednesday. I picked him up from his aunt’s house?—”

I freeze.

Maggie.

Abuse.

No.

She wouldn’t. There’s no way.

“Fischer?”