Afterwards, once we get our clothes all restored to their rightful places and the condom disposed of, Brody describes how things went without me. First, he tells me about his conversation with Connor, then about his conversation with Gabe.

“I love that you gave yourself a promotion.”

“Yeah,” he says, pleased. “I guess I did.”

I frown. “I still need to have a talk with Connor. I’m still really pissed that he went off on you like that. Like I needed protection from you or something. It’s insulting to both of us.”

Brody strokes my cheek. “Don’t be too hard on him. He told me he was jealous, which I don’t think was easy for him to say.”

“I’ll only yell at him a little bit.”

He grins.

“So, after you talked to Gabe, you bought a plane ticket and flew out here?”

He gets a slightly sheepish look his face. “Well, yes, and no. I bought a plane ticket. But it was two days out, because holy shit summer flights fill up fast. I had some time to kill. So I called a lawyer.”

“You—what?”

“I called a lawyer. About Justin. And custody.”

I guess I give him a dirty look, because he hastily says, “I’m not using the lawyer against Zoë. It was her idea, actually. We talked about Justin, and—here’s the thing. He’s not mine genetically, but the birth certificate does have my name on it. Because… well, Zoë technically committed fraud. Theoretically, I should have my name taken off and Len’s put on, but when I suggested that to Zoë, just to, you know, straighten everything out so it’s legal, it started us both thinking. So she reached out to Len. And he’s willing to waive paternity.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. What the lawyer said is that if Len waives rights, the court might very well be willing to grant them to me, because they tend to be sympathetic in cases where the petitioner has lived with the mother and child for a period of time.”

“Which you did, with Zoë and Justin.”

“Exactly,” he says. “If Len waives his rights and I ask for them…”

“You have a really good chance of getting them.”

“That’s right. And Zoë is open to it, even though theoretically I could use my new powers to try to get fifty-fifty custody—”

“But you won’t.”

“But I won’t. And she gets something out of it, because I’ll have to pay child support. Which, God, Rachel, I’d do in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would,” I say, and lean my head on his shoulder. “Brody, that’s so, so good. I’m so happy for you.”