CHAPTER 22

Ryan’s POV

For the first twenty minutes, I felt like I had already won.

My lawyer was a master measured, composed, precise. Every word he spoke chipped away at Amanda’s credibility: the hospital review, the public meltdowns, the whispers of exhaustion. I kept my face neutral, but inside I was satisfied. The judge was listening. The room was swaying in our favor.

This was the strategy I’d wanted from the start. Controlled, professional, undeniable. If we kept going at this pace, custody was within reach.

But then her lawyer stood.

A younger man, not as polished as mine, but his voice carried conviction that was hard to ignore. He didn’t waste time dancing around the obvious. He went straight for my weak spots.

“Mr. Steward,” he began, “you claim to be the more stable guardian. Let’s talk about your marriage to Dr. James.”

My stomach tightened.

“Is it true,” he continued, flipping through his papers, “that you traveled extensively during your marriage? That you were absent for long stretches—weeks at a time—while Amanda was the one caring for Levi?”

“That was business,” I said quickly, keeping my voice level. “I worked to provide for my family.”

“Worked,” he repeated. “And yet, isn’t it also true that during those trips, there were multiple tabloid reports of you being seen in the company of other women?”

A low murmur rippled through the courtroom. I clenched my jaw. “Those reports were exaggerated. Misinterpreted.”

“But not false?” the lawyer pressed.

I shifted in my seat, hating how the spotlight had swung onto me. The smug little twist of his mouth told me he knew it.

He didn’t stop there.

He asked about the fights, the late nights I hadn’t come home, the tension that eventually exploded into separation. Each question was sharp, laced with just enough truth to sting. My lawyer objected when necessary, but not enough to blunt the damage.

I could feel the judge watching me closely now. Amanda’s lawyer was good better than I had given him credit for. And if I didn’t turn this around, I was going to bleed credibility.

So I shifted the game.

“Your Honor,” I said, reaching into my briefcase. My lawyer shot me a questioning glance, but I ignored it. I pulled out the envelope, unfolding the paper slowly, deliberately. “I’d like to read something I wrote for my son.”

The judge raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop me.

I cleared my throat and began.

“Levi, I know you don’t understand why your mother won’t let me see you. I know you’re too young to know the whole story. But I love you. More than anything. Every day I wake up wishing I could hear your laugh, wishing I could walk you to school. Your mother has locked me out of your life, but I’ll never stop fighting to be in it. One day, you’ll know the truth: that I wanted you, that I chose you, always.”

I let the words hang in the silence. My voice had cracked just enough to sound raw, pained.

The effect was immediate. A couple of older women shifted with visible sympathy. Even the judge leaned back slightly, thoughtful.

It was exactly what I needed.

But then I glanced at Amanda.

Her eyes burned with fury, her hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were white. She looked like she wanted to leap across the courtroom and tear the letter out of my hand.

Good, I thought grimly. Let her lose her composure. Let her show them the instability we’d been talking about.

But she didn’t erupt. Not at first. She just simmered, her lawyer whispering frantically at her side, trying to hold her back.

And then I slipped.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was spite. But when her lawyer asked if I was implying Amanda had deliberately kept Levi from me, I said, “Yes. She’s been vindictive ever since the restraining order. She weaponizes Levi against me.”

Amanda shot to her feet. “That’s a lie.”

The judge’s gavel struck once. “Dr. James, you’ll have your turn.”

Her lawyer leaned in, whispered something, and Amanda’s expression hardened. The judge gestured. “Very well. Dr. James, take the stand.”

I leaned back as she crossed the room. There was a fire in her step that made my chest tighten, though I told myself it was just adrenaline.

Amanda settled in the witness box, her eyes locked on me as though I was the only one in the room.

“Mr. Steward says I weaponize Levi,” she began, her voice steady. “That’s not true. The restraining order was filed because Ryan has a temper. Because I’ve seen him lash out, and I won’t let Levi be in the middle of that. He talks about love, but where was that love during our marriage? When I was carrying everything alone? When Levi asked where his father was, and I had no answer?”

Her words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

She didn’t stop there. “And if we’re talking about parenting, then let’s talk about Blair.”

The name hit me like a slap.

Amanda turned to the judge. “Your Honor, Ryan hasn’t been consistent with her either. I’ve seen it firsthand. Missed pickups. Cancelled weekends. A child caught in the same cycle Levi is at risk of falling into.”

My pulse spiked. Blair wasn’t even Amanda’s business. Dragging her into this felt like betrayal.

The judge raised a hand. “Dr. James, do you have evidence of this claim?”

Amanda hesitated, then lifted her chin. “Not on me today. But I can get it. Records, testimonies. All I ask is time.”

Time. That was the last thing I could allow.

I rose instantly. “Your Honor, with respect, this case has already been delayed once. Allowing her more time only drags Levi through uncertainty. He deserves stability now, not months from now.”

Amanda’s eyes snapped to mine, fierce and unyielding. “Stability doesn’t come from rushing, Ryan. It comes from truth.”

The judge tapped his pen against the bench, thinking. The silence stretched long, taut.

I could feel the ground shifting beneath me. If Amanda was given even a week to pull together evidence about Blair, she’d use it to burn me alive.

This wasn’t just about Levi anymore. This case was going to unearth everything every weakness, every secret.

And yet, staring at Amanda across the courtroom, chest rising and falling as she fought me with every ounce of her will, I knew I didn’t regret pushing this far.

She should never have handed me that restraining order. She should never have shut me out.

Now, we were both cornered. And neither of us was going to leave this war without scars.