His mouth got hard but he still forced through it, “That’s what she’s makin’ it out to be. Called it my ‘grand scheme.’ Said her blood alcohol level was negligible, just over the edge, proves I’m out for her and roped Coert into that shit, and if they try to put that on her permanent record, she’s fightin’ it. Also said I started this scheme even before we split. Said if I didn’t back down, stop maneuvering, she was gonna fight me tooth and nail. And she said if I tried to keep the kids from her, she’d have me arrested for kidnapping.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Yeah,” he grunted.

Now I understood why he was so unhappy.

“Mickey,” I grabbed his hand and held tight, “I don’t know what to say.”

“What’s there to say?” he asked, lifting our hands and pressing mine against his heart as he shifted closer to me. “I’m stuck. Called Arnie again. The attorney?”

I nodded.

Mickey continued, “He said this is a case of declaring her unfit to raise our children. I’d have to call CPS. They’d have to inspect. I’d have to have evidence. I’d have to have witness testimony. The DUI on record is something but it isn’t enough. And at the kids’ ages, they’re old enough to be deposed. They could get dragged in. Have to talk smack about their mother.”

“It isn’t smack if it’s true,” I shared carefully.

“You’re right. But would you want your kids to sit with some fuck they don’t know and share their dad is a cheating asshole?”

No, I would not want that.

I shook my head.

“No,” he bit off. “So I got two choices, keep my kids from her and brace for whatever shit she throws at me. And she was pissed, Amy. She’s got her back up and she’s so deep in denial, it’s a wonder she’s breathing. Or let my kids go to her and wait for the other shoe to drop, maybe this bein’ something that scars my kids in some new way I won’t be able to heal.”

I moved closer to him and pointed out the obvious, “You’re between the rock and the hard place.”

“I am. ’Cept I got one more option, this comin’ from Arnie. Sit down with my kids and see if they wanna live with me, makin’ ’em say they don’t wanna live with their mom. And they might not wanna live with her, but I don’t wanna make ’em share that shit.”

No. That wasn’t easy. I knew it. I wasn’t with my children when they had to make that choice and say it out loud, but I’d seen the way they couldn’t look at me afterward. The sorrow on their faces. It was agonizing.