I turn around.
He looks tired. Not the kind of tiredness that goes away with sleep. The other kind.
"The lawyer scared me," I say.
"Jessica scared you."
"Yeah. Both of them. But the lawyer scared me more."
He waits.
"Jessica scared me because she was in our living room. The lawyer scared me because she made it sound like the most damaging thing in your life right now isn't Jessica showing up high, it's me—being here—the way it looks."
"She's a lawyer. She gets paid to think like the other lawyer."
"I know."
"So don't take it personally."
"She wasn't wrong, though, Tyler. About how it looks. To a stranger. To a judge who doesn't know us. That part of what she said is just true."
"Doesn't matter what's true."
"It does matter what's true. That's the whole problem."
He runs his hand through his hair. I can see him wanting to argue, but deciding not to.
"Okay," he says. “So what are you saying?”
"I'm saying we should be careful until the hearing."
"Define careful."
"I sleep in here. Until the hearing."
He's quiet for a beat.
"Okay," he says.
"And I'm Ms. Collins, to your lawyer. If she asks if we share a bed, I want to be able to say no and have it be true. I don't want either of us standing up under oath and lying about something that doesn't have to be a lie."
"Okay."
"You're not going to fight me on this."
"No."
"Why not?”
"Because it's smart, Red. I can see that it's smart. I don't like it, but I can see it."
"Okay."
I wait for him to step back. Say goodnight. Go to his room. But he doesn't move.
"What?" I ask.
"That's all of it?"