Chapter 5: The Version He Told
Gideon called his brother that night from the driveway.
I heard him through the bedroom window.
"She's trying to destroy me," he said.
"She's using Leo as a weapon because she's angry I didn't cancel the trip."
A pause.
"No, he was fine.
He's always fine.
She babies him — that's the problem.
She's made him completely dependent."
Another pause.
Longer.
"I need you to talk to someone.
A lawyer.
Tonight if possible."
I closed the window.
The next morning, his brother Marcus called me directly.
I almost didn't answer.
I picked up on the fourth ring.
"I want to hear your side," Marcus said.
He sounded tired.
"Leo was alone for six days," I said.
"He ate crackers for dinner.
He left the lights on at night so the house wouldn't look empty.
He carried the note Gideon left him in his pocket for two days because he thought he might need it later."
Silence.
"He's eight, Marcus."
"I know how old he is."
"Gideon told him not to call me.
He told him I was too busy."
More silence.
Then: "Gideon told me you'd been neglecting the household.
That you'd been gone for almost three weeks and he was managing everything alone."
"I was burying my mother."
"I know." His voice dropped.
"I know that.
I'm sorry."
"Did he tell you he removed Leo from the beach reservation four days before they left?
That he planned this?"
A very long pause.
"He said Leo didn't want to go."
"Leo had been talking about Hilton Head since March.
He told his teacher about it.
I can get her on the phone right now if you want."
Marcus didn't say anything for a moment.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed.
"What do you need from me?"
"Nothing," I said.
"I just needed you to know the truth."
I hung up.
Gideon came downstairs an hour later.
He poured himself coffee like it was a normal morning.
Set the mug on the counter.
Looked at me.
"I talked to a lawyer," he said.
"You don't have a case.
Leaving a child home alone isn't automatically a crjme in Ohio.
He was in a safe environment."
"He was eight."
"The law doesn't specify an age."
"Your lawyer told you that?"
"My lawyer told me you're going to look vindictive.
That you called the police on your husband while you were grieving and not thinking clearly." He picked up the mug.
"I'm willing to let this go if you are."
I looked at him across the kitchen.
"I filed for emergency sole custody yesterday morning," I said.
"Before you pulled into the driveway."
The mug stopped halfway to his mouth.
"The family court hearing is in eleven days," I said.
"The police report, the note, the reservation screenshot, and Leo's teacher's statement are already with my attorney."
Gideon set the mug down very carefully.
"You planned this," he said.
"You planned yours in April," I said.
"I planned mine on the flight home."
He stared at me.
And for the first time in five years of marriage, he had absolutely nothing to say.
But I knew it wouldn't last.
May you like
Men like Gideon always found something to say.
I just had to be ready for what came next.
