Chapter 4 - THE CALL AVA REFUSED TO TAKE
At 5:58 the following evening, Preston sat alone in the living room of the townhouse he had rented after leaving our family home.
He had positioned his laptop on the coffee table.
He changed shirts twice.
He moved a pile of Brielle’s catalogues out of the camera frame.
He placed a framed photograph of Ava and Grace behind him.
The photograph had been taken four years earlier.
Ava had been five.
Grace had been three.
Preston had not chosen the photograph because it was his favorite.
He had chosen it because it was the only picture of the girls he had brought when he moved out.
At exactly six o’clock Irish time, I opened FamilyBridge.
Preston’s video request appeared.
Grace sat beside me on Maeve’s sofa.
Ava remained upstairs.
I had asked both girls separately.
Grace wanted to see him.
Ava did not.
I accepted the call.
Preston’s face appeared.
For half a second, he looked disappointed.
Then he smiled.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Grace gave a small wave.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Where’s Ava?”
That was his first question.
Not how are you.
Not how was the flight.
Not are you comfortable.
Where’s Ava?
I answered from outside the camera frame.
“She chose not to join.”
His smile disappeared.
“What do you mean she chose not to join?”
I kept my voice neutral.
“She does not want to speak tonight.”
Preston’s jaw tightened.
“Put her on.”
“No.”
Grace looked toward me.
I softened my expression for her.
Preston noticed.
“Lena, this is my time with my daughters.”
“Your call is with Grace right now.”
“Go get Ava.”
“I will not force her.”
Preston leaned toward the camera.
“You’re turning her against me.”
Grace’s shoulders stiffened.
I immediately stepped into view.
“This conversation is supposed to be between you and Grace.”
“Then stop interfering.”
“I’m ending the call if you discuss adult conflict in front of her.”
Preston laughed bitterly.
“You’ve been gone one day and suddenly you’re making rules.”
“They were in the agreement.”
His face changed.
He was already tired of hearing that sentence.
Grace whispered.
“Dad?”
He stopped.
She looked nervous.
“Did you want to talk to me?”
The anger vanished from Preston’s face.
“Yes.”
He smiled again.
“Of course I did.”
Grace picked at the sleeve of her sweater.
“Okay.”
Preston seemed unsure what to say.
That hurt to watch.
He had lived with this child for seven years.
Yet without me feeding him information, he did not know how to begin a conversation with her.
Finally, he asked.
“How’s school?”
Grace looked confused.
“School hasn’t started yet.”
“Right.”
He nodded.
“I meant Ireland.”
“It’s okay.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do today?”
“We went to the ocean.”
“Really?”
Grace nodded.
“Aunt Maeve showed us a beach where Mom used to go when she was little.”
Preston glanced toward me.
“Sounds nice.”
Grace brightened slightly.
“There were rocks everywhere.”
“Did you swim?”
“It was freezing.”
She giggled.
For one brief moment, the conversation sounded normal.
Then Preston ruined it.
“When are you coming home?”
Grace’s smile disappeared.
I stepped closer.
“Preston.”
He ignored me.
Grace looked uncertain.
“This is home now.”
The sentence clearly shocked him.
“You’ve been there one day.”
Grace looked toward me.
I shook my head slightly.
She did not have to explain.
Preston continued.
“Your real home is here.”
I ended the call.
The screen went black.
Grace stared at me.
“Was Dad mad?”
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“No.”
She looked unconvinced.
I pulled her closer.
“You did nothing wrong.”
Upstairs, I heard a floorboard creak.
Ava had been listening from the hallway.
I looked up.
She stood halfway down the stairs.
Her face was pale.
“He said this isn’t our real home.”
I nodded.
“He shouldn’t have said that.”
Ava folded her arms.
“I’m not talking to him Sunday.”
“That is your choice.”
“He’ll blame you.”
“He can.”
Ava stared at me.
“You’re not scared of him anymore.”
It was not a question.
I thought about it.
For years, I would have denied being scared.
Preston had never hit me.
He had never threatened me physically.
His control was quieter.
Financial decisions made without telling me.
Cold silences that lasted days.
Humiliation disguised as jokes.
Affection withdrawn whenever I disagreed.
His mother calling me difficult whenever I challenged him.
His father rewarding Preston whenever he prioritized work over family.
Brielle entering our marriage one secret at a time.
Fear did not always arrive shouting.
Sometimes it simply trained you to make yourself smaller.
“No.”
I answered honestly.
“I’m not scared of him anymore.”
Across the Atlantic, Preston stared at the blank screen.
Then he threw his phone onto the sofa.
Daniel Mercer, sitting in an armchair nearby, watched him.
“You caused that.”
Preston glared.
“I asked when my daughter was coming home.”
“You told a seven-year-old the place her mother moved her to under a lawful custody agreement isn’t her real home.”
“It isn’t.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You have learned absolutely nothing.”
“Why are you here if you’re going to lecture me?”
“Because you asked me to review an emergency custody petition.”
“And?”
“And I’m not filing it.”
Preston stood.
“You said you would help.”
“I said I would review the facts.”
Daniel picked up a folder.
“The facts are terrible for you.”
Preston laughed.
“She took them overseas.”
“With your permission.”
“She’s refusing calls.”
“One daughter declined one call.”
“She hung up on me.”
“After you violated the communication provisions.”
Preston paced.
“I can get another lawyer.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stood.
“And if you find someone willing to file a baseless emergency motion, Rebecca will attach the courthouse recording.”
Preston stopped.
Daniel continued.
“She will attach your instructions reducing visitation.”
“She will attach the relocation clause.”
“She will attach today’s call.”
“She recorded today?”
“The app records calls automatically.”
Preston stared at him.
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“Page forty-two.”
Preston turned away.
His doorbell rang.
Neither man moved.
It rang again.
Preston looked through the peephole.
Brielle stood outside.
He opened the door but did not invite her in.
She looked exhausted.
Her eyes were swollen.
“I scheduled the paternity test.”
Preston said nothing.
“Thursday.”
Daniel quietly gathered his documents.
“I’ll leave.”
Brielle looked embarrassed.
“Daniel.”
He nodded once.
“Brielle.”
Then he walked out.
Preston remained in the doorway.
Brielle looked toward the living room.
“Can I come in?”
“No.”
Her face fell.
“Preston.”
“You lied to me.”
“I was scared.”
“You lied about Evan.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Twice.”
She flinched.
“It wasn’t like that.”
Preston laughed.
“You slept with him twice.”
“After you told me you didn’t know whether you were ever actually leaving Lena.”
That silenced him.
Brielle’s eyes filled.
“You forget that part.”
Preston’s expression hardened.
“I filed for divorce.”
“Eventually.”
“I left my family for you.”
Brielle stared at him.
“No.”
The word surprised both of them.
She continued.
“You left because you wanted a different life.”
“You told me you loved me.”
“I did.”
“Did?”
She wiped her cheek.
“I don’t know what I feel right now.”
Preston looked almost offended.
“You don’t know?”
Brielle’s voice sharpened.
“You walked out of my doctor’s office while I was terrified.”
“You told me another man might be the father.”
“I said I had seen him.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You’re making this about betrayal because now you understand what betrayal feels like.”
Preston stared at her.
For once, Brielle did not back down.
“You spent eight months lying to your wife.”
“You lied to your daughters.”
“You lied to your parents about when we started seeing each other.”
“You lied to everyone.”
“But now that someone lied to you, suddenly the world is ending.”
Preston stepped closer.
“Get out.”
“I’m already outside.”
That stopped him.
Brielle laughed through her tears.
“You don’t even realize where you’re standing anymore.”
She turned away.
Then she stopped.
“The test is Thursday at nine.”
Preston said nothing.
“If you want to know whether this baby is yours, show up.”
She walked toward her car.
Preston watched her leave.
His phone buzzed behind him.
A message from Marian.
Your father has called a family meeting.
Another message appeared.
He wants everyone at the house tomorrow.
Preston typed.
About Brielle?
Marian replied.
About everything.
Preston stared at the word.
May you like
Everything.
He had no idea how much that word was about to include.
