“May I read what my Dad sent me yesterday?”
Curtis leaned into Damon, whispering fast. Carmen shifted in her seat.
“Order,” the judge held up his hand. “Go ahead, son. But where did he send this message?”
“My tablet, Judge. It’s for school but Mom lets me have some screentime on weekends. My Dad sent me a message on it.”
Mark unfolded a small slip of paper from his pocket. My heart dropped into my stomach.
“Mark,” he read. “You need to tell the judge you want to live with me and Grandma, or I’ll make sure Mom loses the house. She’ll live on the street, buddy.”
Silence swallowed the entire room whole.
Judge Ramsey leaned forward, slowly removing his glasses.
“May I see that note?” he asked.
Mark nodded and walked up the bench, both hands gripping the slip of paper. He handed it to the bailiff, who passed it forward.
“I copied it from my tablet, Judge,” Mark said. “But the tablet is in the car. I hid it under the seat so Mom wouldn’t ask about it.”
The judge unfolded the note and read my son’s handwriting silently. His jaw tightened but his expression didn’t change.
“Would you like to explain this?” he asked, looking at Damon. “Is this the message that you sent your son?”
Damon shifted in his seat. His jaw seemed to lock before he finally tried to answer.
“Yes, Judge. It was a misunderstanding. I was just… scared of losing him.”
I turned toward him, blood rushing to my ears.
“You told me that you didn’t want custody! You said you wanted your freedom and the dog! Damon, you said you were done with us!” I shouted.
“Counsellor, calm your client,” Judge Ramsey told Blake, my lawyer.
“I changed my mind, Judge,” Damon said, glancing at me briefly. “I love my son. I love him so much.”
But I knew. We all did. This wasn’t love, this was punishment. Damon just wanted to get back at me. It had nothing to do with loving our son.
That’s when Simone stood up in the gallery. Damon’s sister. We hadn’t spoken in months. She walked toward the stand with hesitation in every step, eyes flicking to me just before she passed.
Something in her gaze felt like an apology.
Curtis called her as a character witness, clearly confident that she would sway the odds into Damon’s favor. He had no idea what was coming.
Simone raised her right hand, took the oath, and sat down. She smoothed her pants with shaking fingers.
“I can’t do this,” she said, looking at her lap. “My brother begged me to lie. He said that he didn’t want custody of Mark… he just wanted to teach Rhea a lesson. He said that if he got Mark, Rhea would have to pay him.”
Damon’s hands flew to his face. Carmen let out a loud gasp.
“Simone!” she hissed, scandalized.
But it was too late.
The courtroom stilled again.
Judge Ramsey paused, then lifted his gavel.
“Custody goes to the mother. The house remains hers. Child support is set according to the father’s income. That’s final.”
Gavel slam. Silence.
And then it was over.
After court, I sat on a bench outside with Mark tucked into my side, his small hands clinging to my coat. My lawyer spoke with the clerk nearby, finalizing paperwork, but the world around us felt muted.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like I was bracing for something to go wrong.
Simone approached us hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure she’d be welcome.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low.
“You did the right thing, thank you,” I nodded, watching her closely.
“I didn’t know it had gotten that bad, Rhea,” she said, looking down at her shoes. “Damon isn’t who I thought he was. And now I know… our mother has been egging him on since the beginning. It’s pathetic, really.”
“He never was who we thought… huh?” I said.
Behind us, Damon walked out alone, ghost-pale, his posture slack. Carmen trailed behind him. Damon glanced at me once, just once, and then turned away without a word.
That night, back at my mother’s, I finally made good on my promise.
Mark and I stood in the kitchen, chocolate smeared on our fingers, warm dough sticking to our hands. He carefully spooned the batter onto the tray, one cookie blob at a time.
“These are going to be so gooey, Mama,” he said, grinning.
“They’ll be perfect, baby,” I told him, brushing flour off his nose.
“I’m really glad I get to stay with you, Mama,” he said quietly.
“Me too,” my throat tightened. “But either way, I was going to fight for you, Mark.”
“I know,” he said. “I love Dad… but he always made me feel like a chore. Like he didn’t really want me around.”
“You are never a chore,” I knelt down and held his face in my hands. “You are the best part of my life.”
And I meant it.
I got full custody of my son. I got 70% of the assets between Damon and me. And I got payments that made Damon flinch each month.
And yes, Jasper stayed with us, too.
Damon walked into that courtroom expecting to destroy me after he cheated on me. But he left owing me for every piece he tried to take.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
