One String Attached

64.

.Riley.

"I'll be back soon, alright. I told you. I'm just meeting Michelle for a girls' night," I tell James just as I was about to leave that evening. 

I grab my handbag from off the leather sofa and haul it over my shoulder, crossing my arms over my chest and looking around to make sure all the kids were okay. Autumn was sleeping peacefully in the cradle and Asher and Aaliyah were sat on the sofa wrapped up in a blanket whilst the TV played a movie in front of them.

James turns his gaze to me, raising an eyebrow as if he didn't quite believe me and just that one action causes my breath to hitch slightly, though I try not to make it too obvious.
He tuts his teeth before grabbing my hand, pulling me into the other room so we were out of earshot from the children and then he closes the door behind me, still holding me by the palm.

"You're going for a night out with Michelle?" he asks me, furrowing his brows more while he looks at me. I roll my eyes a little and nod my head yes.
"Yeah," I mumble, but he doesn't seem to let it go.

"Riley, it's a Wednesday."
"And?"
"And you never go out on Wednesdays. And you don't do last minute deals either. Plus when you go out, you like to go dressed full-out, not wearing full-on black," he points out, causing me to look down slightly.

I bite my lip a little. The only reason I'd chosen to wear fully black was so that I wouldn't draw attention to myself. I didn't want Bryson to pay any more attention to me than he does already. I just didn't expect James to point a finger on it.

After taking in the look on my face, he eventually gives up and does nothing but let out a light sigh, clearly not wanting to drag this too far. And I had to admit that I was glad about that. I didn't want this meeting with Bryson to go any further than it had gone last time.
Everyone's been wanting to get involved and drop their two pence in when it came to this situation. But the truth is that he's my ex. I should be able to deal with him myself.

"Look, just be safe alright," he says to me, letting go of the subject and slowly letting go of my hand.
"I will be," I tell him before reaching onto my tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When I pull back, I give him a small yet reassuring smile which he reciprocates, despite how curt it was. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Don't be out for too long though, okay," he says and I nod.
Turning around, I lead myself out into the lounge to say bye to the kids who seemed to be far more absorbed in the TV than their actual mother.

And with that, I exit the house and let out the one deep breath I had kept clogged up inside of me.

. . . 

Entering the diner after a ten-or-so minute drive, I look around in search of Bryson but I couldn't spot him anywhere. 

Choosing to wait for a couple of minutes, I stood aside with my phone in hand, thinking he may have texted me or even just in case there was an emergency with James and the children back home, but I never got any notifications at all.
It wasn't until about five minutes later when the sound of footsteps approached me and then I felt a light hand move to the small of my back, alerting me that he was here but also startling me more than I'd expected.

"Sorry I was late, babe. The amount of traffic there was is crazy," he says, moving to stand by my side.
At the sound of his words, I furrow my brows the same way James had done with me earlier and I shake my head sternly.

"Don't," I mouth, a violent look on my face so as not to gain the attention of the waiters around us. "That's not what this is and you know it," I say sternly.
I knew he had caught on and it was obvious through the look in his eyes, but the small smirk on his lips doesn't go anywhere.

"Yes, I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry," he continues to play it out.
I knew his games. The only reason he was actually acting like we were a married couple was so that it wouldn't be suspicious to anyone from an outside perspective. But I'm sure he's making things even more suspicious just by the high-pitched tone of his voice as it is.

He tries to take hold of my hand but I push him away, not wanting to go there at all. He smirks at my actions but leads me towards a booth near the back, but I knew I couldn't complain. If I was going to be difficult with him it would only make this whole thing worse.

We take our seats on opposite sides of the table, me with my back to the wall whilst his was by the window and then he smiles at me, causing me to roll my eyes, keeping my arms beneath the shelter of the table whilst his rested on top of the surface.

"What's this about, Bryson?" I ask, just wanting to cut to the chase without any of his unnecessary or irrelevant gimmicks.
"Why so hasty? Wouldn't you like to order some food first, babes?" he asks me, but with the narrow of my eyes, he takes the hint and then smirks again.

"I'm not playing, Bryson," I say to him, my voice harsh and stern. "What do you want?"
"Have a look for yourself," he snorts, pulling out a couple of papers from a bag he had brought along with him before he sets it down on the table in front of me. "I'm gonna go and use the men's," he says before leaving me on my own.

Once he's out of sight, I snatch the papers and turn them over, only for my eyes to land on the first four capitalised words in a black and bold font at the top of the page:

COURT CASE: Child Custody

And then I see both his and my own name, making me swallow the lump in the back of my throat.

I guess this was getting real now . . .