“They are.” He meets my eyes. “I’m still not okay with this. I’m still processing. But Rachel, I just saw it. I saw how they look at you, how you look at them. How Tommy fits into all of it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”
I don’t know what to say.
“You’re happy,” Jake says finally. “Really happy. I haven’t seen you like this in years. Maybe ever.”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll figure out how to be okay with it.” He stands up. “For you. For Tommy. Because you deserve to be happy, and if this is what makes you happy, then I’ll learn to accept it.”
I stand too, setting down my coffee. “Jake—”
He pulls me into a hug. “You’re going to win today. Derek doesn’t stand a chance against you.”
I hold onto my brother, feeling the last piece of my life click into place. Not perfect. Not simple. But whole.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For showing up. For being here even when it’s hard.”
“Always.” He pulls back, hands on my shoulders. “That’s what family does.”
From the kitchen, Theo calls out, “Breakfast is ready. Someone come get these pancakes before I eat them all!”
Jake grins. “Some things never change.”
We walk back into the kitchen together. Tommy’s already at the table, chocolate smeared on his face. The men are plating food, passing dishes, and filling glasses.
Jake sits down beside Tommy. I take the seat between Cole and Marco. Theo slides into the chair across from me and winks.
We eat breakfast as a family.
Chapter thirty-four
Chapter 34
Cole
Millbrook Falls courthouse smells like old wood and tension.
I sit in the back row of the courtroom, hands clasped between my knees, watching Rachel at the defense table. She’s wearing a navy dress. Her auburn hair is pulled back in a low bun. She looks composed, but I can see the tremor in her hands when she reaches for her water glass.
Tommy’s not here. Rachel’s lawyer insisted on that. “The judge will want to see that you’re protecting him from the stress of this process,” she’d said. “It shows good judgment.”
So, Tommy’s with Sophie at the park, probably feeding ducks and completely oblivious that his entire future is being decided in this wood-paneled room.
Derek sits across the aisle with his lawyer. He’s cleaned up for court with a button-down shirt, slacks, and hair combed back. But there’s a smugness in the way he sits, leaning back like he’s already won. Like Rachel’s just a problem he’s finally solving.
I want to walk over there and rearrange his face.
The bailiff stands. “All rise. The Honorable Judge Margaret Harris presiding.”
We stand as the judge enters. She’s in her sixties, with gray hair and reading glasses on a chain around her neck. She settles into her chair and surveys the room with the kind of expression that says she’s seen every custody battle there is and won’t tolerate any nonsense.
“Please be seated.” She opens a folder. “We’re here for the matter of custody modification in the case of Derek Mitchell versus Rachel Morgan, regarding the minor child, Thomas Morgan. Let’s begin.”
Derek’s lawyer goes first. He’s younger, mid-thirties, with the kind of polished look that screams expensive. He stands, adjusting his tie.
“Your Honor, my client Derek Mitchell is seeking primary custody of his son, Thomas, due to serious concerns about the child’s current living situation and the mother’s stability.”
Rachel’s hand tightens around her pen.
