2026-01-10 23:32:14
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Seven Months Old
At seven months, Thomas changed almost overnight.It felt like Ethan blinked and suddenly the baby he’d once cradled carefully in one arm no longer wanted to lie still. Thomas wanted movement. He wanted the world. He wanted everything at once.He could sit up on his own now, spine wobbly but determined, palms slapping the floor as if testing its existence. When he tipped over, he didn’t cry. He simply stared at the ceiling in mild offense, then rolled onto his stomach and tried again.Crawling had begun too — not the graceful kind they showed in parenting books. Thomas dragged himself forward with his arms while his legs lagged behind, an awkward little army crawl that somehow still carried him across entire rooms.Ethan watched him do it every morning.“Where are you even going?” he murmured one day, sitting cross-legged on the rug.Thomas answered with babbling. Long strings of sound poured out of him, confident and dramatic, as if he were delivering a speech only he understood.“Ba
Finding Rhythm
By the second Wednesday, Derek arrived at the estate ten minutes early.He sat in his car with the engine off, hands resting on the steering wheel, staring at the front doors like they might suddenly reject him. The first visit had gone better than he expected, but that did not mean this one would. Babies did not remember effort. They remembered comfort. And comfort, for Thomas, still lived in Ethan’s arms.When the door finally opened, Derek straightened automatically.Ethan stepped out first, Thomas balanced easily against his shoulder. The baby was dressed in a soft grey onesie, one foot sticking out slightly, sock halfway off. His diaper bag hung from Ethan’s shoulder like it had always belonged there.“Bottle’s in the front pocket,” Ethan said, not unkindly, but without warmth either. “He eats at five again.”“I know,” Derek replied quickly. “Five sharp.”Ethan nodded once. No argument. No warning this time. Just routine.That alone felt like progress.When Ethan handed Thomas ov
First Unsupervised Visit
The silence inside Derek’s car felt heavier than traffic.Thomas was strapped into the backseat, his small legs kicking lightly against the padded carrier. He made soft, confused sounds, the kind that were not quite cries but not calm either. Derek kept glancing at the rearview mirror every few seconds, his chest tight.Three hours.No Linda.No clipboard.No watchful eyes noting every movement.Just him.The estate gates came into view, tall and familiar in a way that still made Derek feel like a visitor rather than someone who belonged. He parked near the curb and cut the engine, exhaling slowly.He checked his watch.4:02 PM.He stepped out.The front door opened before he could knock.Ethan stood there with Thomas already in his arms.The moment hit Derek harder than he expected. Thomas looked bigger than the last supervised visit. His cheeks were fuller, his hair thicker, his eyes alert and searching.Those eyes slid past Derek almost immediately.Looking for someone else.Ethan
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four
Two hours felt longer than the entire trial combined.The hallway outside the courtroom had gone quiet in a way that made every sound louder. The buzz of the overhead lights. The shuffle of shoes from people passing by. The ticking clock mounted crookedly near the exit door.Ethan sat with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his fingers ached. He had not moved in twenty minutes. Every possible outcome had replayed in his mind again and again until none of them felt real anymore.Across the room, Derek stood near the window, staring outside without really seeing anything. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid. He looked calm, but it was the kind of calm built on bracing for impact.Neither man spoke.When the courtroom doors finally opened, a bailiff stepped out.“Court is back in session.”Everyone rose at once.The room filled quickly. Chairs scraped. Papers rustled. The air itself felt heavier as they filed back inside.Ethan took his seat, his heart pounding so hard
Isabelle's Impossible Testimony
Isabelle's name echoed through the courtroom with the weight of inevitability. She'd known this moment was coming, had rehearsed answers in her head for weeks, but none of that preparation made the walk to the witness stand any easier. Every eye in the room followed her—Ethan's carefully neutral, Derek's desperately hopeful, the judge's impassively evaluating.The bailiff administered the oath, and Isabelle placed her hand on the Bible with fingers that trembled despite her best efforts to steady them. "I do," she said, her voice coming out smaller than she'd intended.Mark Chen approached first, his expression professional but with an undercurrent of expectation. Derek's entire case might rest on what she said in the next few minutes. "Ms. Harrington, as Thomas's mother, you've observed both men's relationships with your son for the past six months. Who would you prefer have custody?"The question landed like a grenade with the pin already pulled. Isabelle felt her throat constrict.
The Final Hearing - Day Two (Ethan's Testimony)
The courtroom felt more crowded on day two, as if word had spread about the unusual custody case and drawn spectators curious to see how it would resolve. Ethan sat in the witness chair, his hand still resting on the Bible from taking the oath, and tried to steady his breathing as Amanda Torres approached."Mr. Cole," she began, her voice warm but professional, "can you describe a typical day with Thomas?"Ethan took a breath and began painting the picture that had become his entire life for the past six months. "He wakes up around six AM. I hear him on the monitor—he doesn't cry immediately, just makes these little sounds like he's testing if anyone's listening. I go to his room, and he smiles when he sees me. Every morning, that smile."He could see some people in the gallery leaning forward, drawn into the narrative."I get his bottle from the fridge, warm it to exactly ninety-eight point six degrees. He won't drink it if it's too cold or too hot. While it's warming, I change his d
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