Page 131 of Pucking Daddy

Rebecca continues, “We have submitted extensive documentation demonstrating Lily Halberg’s routine, stability, and overall well-being over the past several weeks and months. School reports, caregiver logs, testimony from her teacher, and from Mrs. Henriksen, who has been a consistent presence in her daily life.”

She gestures lightly toward the stack of files. “Every single piece points to the same conclusion: Lily is thriving.”

Rachel’s lawyer shifts, but Rebecca doesn’t give him room to interrupt.

“And while opposing counsel raises concerns about stability,” Rebecca adds, her tone still measured, “we would ask the court to consider the documented inconsistencies on Ms. Halberg’s side. Missed appointments. Last-minute cancellations. Periods of limited contact that have required others to step in to maintain continuity for the child.”

A beat. Just long enough for that to land.

“As for Mr. Halberg’s career,” she continues, her tone sharpening just a fraction, “it isn’t new. As an NHL coach, his job has always been time-consuming. What’s changed is the support system around him.”

My gaze flicks to Zara.

She’s watching Rebecca, steady, composed on the outside—but I can feel the tension in the way her hand still rests against me.

Rebecca follows my line of sight for half a second before continuing.

“Mrs. Halberg has been an integral part of Lily’s daily life over many weeks. Consistently.” She pauses. “The court will find no evidence of instability here. Only structure, care, and a child who is deeply attached to both adults in that household.”

But Rachel’s lawyer keeps pushing.

“And yet,” she says during cross-examination, “isn’t it true that Ms. Winslow, excuse me, Mrs. Halberg, was originally hired as a nanny? That her first role in this household was as an employee?”

“She was hired to care for my daughter,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “The relationship developed naturally over time.”

“Naturally. Within weeks of her employment?”

“Sometimes people connect quickly.”

“Or sometimes people recognize an opportunity.” The lawyer’s smile is sharp as a blade. “You are facing a custody battle, Mr. Halberg. Your ex-wife has raised concerns about the stability of a single-parent household with your demanding schedule. And conveniently, you find yourself married to your live-in nanny.”

“Objection,” Rebecca says. “Counsel is testifying.”

“Sustained. Keep it to questions.”

The next hour blurs into a series of accusations and rebuttals.

Rachel testifies about her concerns for Lily’s wellbeing. The hypocrisy of it is almost hard to sit through.

I testify about the years I spent as Lily’s primary caretaker while Rachel remains mostly absent from her life.

Documents are submitted, rejected, reconsidered.

Through it all, Zara sits beside me like an anchor.

When they call her to testify, she speaks clearly about her relationship with Lily, the bedtime routines, the homework help, the way Lily opens up about her fears and dreams.

She talks about falling in love with my daughter, and the words ring with the kind of truth you can’t fake.

Rachel’s lawyer tries to rattle her, but Zara holds her ground.

“Mrs. Halberg, do you deny that your marriage to the defendant is motivated by his custody concerns?”

Zara pauses, weighing her words. She won’t lie on the stand—I know that much.

“I won’t deny that the timing is… accelerated by circumstances. But that doesn’t mean what we have isn’t real. I’m part of this family now. And I believe this family is exactly what it appears to be—three people who found each other when they needed it most.”

The judge calls a recess. Rebecca pulls us into a side room, her expression cautiously optimistic.