He just sits there pretending to be the wounded father.
The story his lawyer tells is almost laughable if it weren’t so infuriating.
According to them, Mike needs custody of Evan because I’m somehow irresponsible enough to have “almost allowed him to be kidnapped.”
My stomach twists hearing the words spoken out loud.
Thank God for J.T.
He sits beside me like a fortress.
One hand resting calmly over mine, his thumb rubbing slow circles across my skin whenever he feels my fingers tense.
Our lawyers are here, too.And they are ruthless.
They lay everything out piece by piece.
The financial fraud.
The stolen college fund.
The mortgage taken out in my name.
The fact that Mike fled town and only returned when his teenage bride abandoned him.
Then they bring up the attempted kidnapping.
The evidence collected by the private security firm J.T.hired.
Phone records.
Witness accounts.
The suspicious timing.
By the time they’re finished, the courtroom is quiet.
Mike’s face has gone pale.
His parents look less confident now.Less proud.More embarrassed.
Which, honestly, is the least they should feel.
The judge eventually speaks.
His tone measured.Careful.
Mike is now facing possible criminal charges related to the attempted kidnapping.
But that is for criminal court to decide.
Family court is never simple.
And even with everything that’s been presented, the judge still decides Mike will be allowed supervised visitation with Evan.
The words land like stones in my stomach.
But I don’t argue.
