Custody Battle

What is worse than being a third wheel when your two best friends start dating? Them breaking up. And fighting for custody of me. Chapter 1 I had two childhood best friends.

I always thought our trio would eventually turn into a group of six when we all got married. Until winter break of our freshman year in college.

I caught Vivian and Maxwell making out. My two best friends were dating within the group. Once the truth came out, all the weird little moments from before suddenly made sense.

It also highlighted how dense I had been. Like when they walked close together, and I insisted on squeezing right between them. I would link arms with both of them.

Vivian knit Maxwell a winter scarf. I spent half the day whining about her favoritism. She ended up knitting me a scarf and a matching hat. Maxwell wanted a sip of Vivian's boba.

I threw a fit until I got a sip too. In the end, when Maxwell bought Vivian a pair of winter gloves, he bought an extra pair for me.

He handed them over through gritted teeth. "Take it. Yes, your majesty." I was ridiculously clueless.

It took me a long time to understand just how blinding of a third wheel I had been. The two people I was closest to were in love.

A romantic relationship was different from a friendship. They shared a new level of intimacy. I needed time to adjust.

Who knew when their friendship had actually turned into something else? I spent a long time brooding over it. Their romance gave me a weird sense of abandonment.

But they still included me in every single thing. Then it hit me. I was not losing them. I was joining their little family. Vivian and Maxwell dated for years.

They graduated, got jobs, and I fully adapted to their dynamic. They even had a guest room set up just for me in their shared apartment.

I honestly wondered if I would sit on the bride's or the groom's side at their wedding. Instead, they broke up. "Brooklyn.

When you fell hiking at sixteen, I carried you down a sixthousandfoot mountain step by step.

Did you forget what you said?" Maxwell stared me down. "You said we were siblings from another mother.

Are you choosing your brother, or this woman?" Back when they were madly in love, it was babe this and babe that. Now she was this woman.

But Vivian did not let me off the hook either. "Brooklyn, we shared a bed growing up. We swapped clothes.

When those girls spread rumors about you in high school, who screamed in their faces?" "My parents treat you like a second daughter.

Could you really be so heartless?" It was a breakup. Why were they treating it like a bitter divorce? They divided every single asset. The pots and pans in the kitchen.

The halfused bar of soap in the bathroom. And even custody over me. I was in my twenties. My actual parents were happily married and perfectly healthy.

Yet here I was, stuck in a custody battle. I cleared my throat. "Is there any chance… I mean, I am a grown adult.

You guys do not actually need to fight over me." "No." "No." They shot back in unison. Lord only knew why these two broke up in the first place.

Chapter 2 For years, I was just the third wheel. Now, I was caught in the middle. The tension in the room was so thick I literally kept my breathing shallow. I never made a choice.

I just stood there and watched them pack their bags, glare at each other, and walk out. They left the apartment to me. Yes.

Like the kid left behind in a bitter divorce, I was left standing in the apartment that once held their epic romance. They bought this place in college.

I did not come over often, but I had my own room here. Now, the place looked like it had been ransacked by a burglar. I did not even know who to run after.

This was exactly why dating within the circle was a terrible idea. When the relationship blew up, it took the whole home down with it.

They left with their luggage, but they definitely did not leave me alone. Maxwell called first. "Was I not good to her?" he ranted. "I did almost all the chores.

I literally taught myself how to cook gourmet meals for her." "When she got sick, I stayed up all night taking care of her. And what did she do? She forgot our anniversary.

She sat there giggling with some guy who has a crush on her." "What kind of decent guy waits around in the shadows to play the homewrecker?

I called the guy a creep, and she defended him!" The sheer bitterness in his voice dropped the temperature in my room. "Brooklyn.

Whose side are you actually on?" It was a question straight from his soul.

He sounded like a bitter housewife. "I tutored you when your grades were absolute garbage in high school." The problem was, he was not the only one who tutored me.

I kept my voice deadpan. "Don't act like a saint. Were you and Vivian not using those tutoring sessions to secretly flirt right in front of my face?" Silence on the other end.

I finally got him off the phone. Then Vivian called. "I already explained to him that nothing was going on with that guy! It's a work contact.

Am I supposed to just avoid all male clients? And he has the nerve to lecture me when he's still texting that junior mentee of his…" I cut in carefully. "You didn't cheat.

And he didn't cheat, right?" Vivian paused. "No. If Maxwell ever dared to cheat on me, I would castrate him." Well then. "Then why did you break up?" She hesitated.

Finally, she snapped, "Forget it. What do you know?" Excuse me? Last I checked, we were the exact same age. Sure, my brain did not work as fast as theirs.

But thanks to their tutoring, I still crushed my SATs and got into a great college. I stared out the window at the bleak winter sky. "Vivian.

The holidays are coming up." Total silence on her end of the line. Our three families were incredibly close. We had a massive joint family dinner every single New Year.

Our parents had no idea Vivian and Maxwell had been dating. Whenever those two sneaked out on dates, they used me as their alibi. Now they were broken up.

And they were going to have to sit at the exact same dinner table. It was impossible for me to pick a side in this mess. Both of them thought they were the ultimate victim.

I had to stay neutral. This stupid breakup was stressing me out so much my hair was falling out.

Worse, whenever they tried to hang out with me separately to vent, they kept accidentally running into each other. Chapter 3 I drank with Vivian and trashed her ex.

Maxwell immediately confronted me. "I thought we were siblings from another mother. You're trashing me with her?" The next day, I ate dinner with Maxwell.

I listened to him list every single way he was oppressed during their relationship. He ended his rant by calling Vivian a heartless woman.

Since it was our usual spot, Vivian caught us redhanded. She sneered. "Typical men.

The second you break up, you talk trash about your ex." Maxwell glared right back. "You didn't talk trash about me?" "I did.

But I stated objective facts." Maxwell choked on his words. I sat trapped between them. Exactly like a helpless kid stuck in a bitter custody battle. Finally, Monday rolled around.

I dragged myself downstairs for coffee, sporting massive dark circles. I wasn't looking where I was going. I slammed facefirst into a solid chest.

A crisp, woody cologne filled my lungs. "Careful." A large, warm hand gripped my wrist, steadying my coffee cup. The voice was a deep, textured rumble.

The exact kind of voice Vivian and Maxwell once warned me belonged to absolute players. I looked up.

A breathtakingly handsome face filled my vision. "I'm so sorry, Boss." The man was Vincent. My direct boss.

He was a corporate prodigy, reaching upper management before hitting thirty. More importantly, he had a face carved by the gods.

He wore perfectly tailored suits every single day, radiating a mature, reliable kind of magnetism.

My coworkers constantly joked that looking at his face was the only compensation we needed for being corporate drones. "Brooklyn." Vincent said my name. "Haven't been sleeping well?

Your dark circles are heavy." My brain was still halffried. I was entirely consumed by my two idiot friends and their explosive breakup.

Faced with his sudden concern, the words just slipped out. "Do you think I should go with mom or dad?" The moment the words left my mouth, I froze.

Vincent blinked, completely taken aback. "I am so sorry, Boss." I apologized instantly. Vincent's expression softened. "It's fine.

Try to get some rest." Vincent was always gentle with me. Partly because my work was solid. Partly because I got in through connections.

The year I graduated, my academic advisor practically packaged me up and shipped me to his star pupil's company. Vincent was my senior.

He graduated three years ahead of me under the exact same academic advisor. Being a corporate drone was pure misery.

Especially when clients changed their minds a hundred times, only to demand the very first draft. A coworker leaned over my desk.

She stared at our boss's retreating back with pure admiration. "He is literally the best view in this entire building.

How is it fair for one man to be that hot and that rich?" I didn't even look up from my screen. "The hot part is obvious.

How do you know he's rich?" "Did you not see the watch on his wrist? It's a luxury watch worth tens of thousands of dollars.

His car isn't cheap either." I narrowed my eyes at Vincent's back. That watch did look familiar. My old man had one from the exact same brand.

He used to leave it lying around the house like loose change. Robert was holding out on me. If he was actually rich, why was he hiding it from his own flesh and blood?

Selfish old man. Quitting time finally rolled around. The office slowly emptied out. I stayed glued to my chair, battling another ridiculous client request.

I didn't even notice the sky turning pitch black outside the windows. I finally reached for the power button. A slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoed in the silent office.

I looked up. A tall, broadshouldered figure stepped out of the inner executive office. Vincent's fashion sense was practically worshipped by everyone in the building.

But the old saying was true. A suit only looked that good because of the face wearing it. Chapter 4 My relationship with Vincent was not actually that close.

When I was a freshman, he had already been fasttracked to grad school. By the time I joined the lab, he had already graduated. I had seen him around, of course.

He was our academic advisor's golden boy. "Still here?" Vincent walked over. He glanced at my screen. He casually typed a few lines, hit save, and closed out the program for me.

His long, elegant fingers gliding over the keyboard was a beautiful sight. If only he was not my boss.

Any social interaction instantly died the moment it got tied to a paycheck. "Have you eaten?" he asked. I shook my head purely out of reflex.

Then my boss—a man known for being gentle but strictly professional—spoke up. "Let's go. Your senior is buying you dinner tonight." Senior.

I had never told anyone in the office about our connection. No one could tell I was getting in through connections.

Back when I was job hunting, my academic advisor looked at the companies I wanted to apply to. He told me not to bother. He forwarded my resume straight to Vincent's inbox.

Vincent interviewed me. I got the job. It was a streamlined process. It definitely felt like getting in through connections.

Now that Vincent referred to himself as my senior, he was not talking to me as my boss anymore. I followed him to the elevator.

I listened to him make a quick reservation over the phone. "Boss—I mean, Senior," I muttered. "Is it really a good idea for us to eat together outside of work?" Vincent turned to look at me. "What's the problem?" I kept my face straight. "Someone getting in through connections like me should probably keep a low profile, right?" The man in front of me froze for a second.

A strange silence settled between us. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "Brooklyn, you are a toptier recruit I poached through our advisor.

I was the one getting in through connections, not you." I stared at him. We were talking about the exact same event. Yet he somehow flipped the entire narrative.

Vivian was right to aggressively tutor me in reading comprehension back then. Otherwise, my brain would have shortcircuited right on the spot