8. Kody
CHAPTER 8
KODY
The suit I'm wearing suit doesn't quite fit anymore. The shoulders are too snug, the cuffs a little short. But it's the only one I have, and right now, it has to be enough. I stand just outside the Whitefish, Montana courthouse with Paige beside me, her hand tucked into the crook of my arm. Her chin is lifted, her shoulders squared, but I can feel the tremble in her fingers. Her dress is simple, but elegant. Her hair is pulled back from her face in a way that highlights her strength instead of softening it. She's terrified, but you wouldn't know it unless you knew her.
Inside, Sadie is with Caitlin down the hallway, coloring in a notebook with stars and unicorns on the cover like today isn't the biggest moment of our lives. I envy her innocence. Her world is still filled with magic and bedtime stories, not courtrooms and legal statements that can break hearts.
When the courtroom doors open, we step inside together. The space is too clean, and too sterile, with echoes in every corner. A bailiff ushers us to our table. Paige's hand is still looped in mine, but her grip tightens ever so slightly. I squeeze back.
The Wells family enters with the kind of smugness that comes from money and polished shoes. Her pearls gleam under the fluorescent lights. Her grandfather has that stiff, performative frown he wears for judges. And their lawyer? Cold, calculated, with a suit that probably costs more than my truck and eyes that flick over Paige like she's a problem to be dissected, not a human being.
The judge comes in and sits high at the bench, already flipping through the case file with a practiced hand.
The Wells’ lawyer begins with a long, almost theatrical opening statement. The room goes still.
"Your Honor, this case is not about love. It is not about redemption. It is about the safety and stability of a child."
He steps forward, voice calm and deliberate.
"We are here today because our clients, Mr. and Mrs. Wells, are deeply concerned for the well-being of their granddaughter, Sadie. They have watched from the sidelines as she was placed in the care of a man with a felony conviction. Who, let us be clear, served time for crimes involving workplace misconduct, and a woman who, by her own admission, was homeless, ill, and emotionally unstable."
I can feel Paige stiffen beside me, but she doesn't flinch. Her jaw is tight, her gaze locked on the judge.
The lawyer continues. "This marriage, hastily arranged and conveniently timed, exists solely to paint a picture of stability. It’s a picture that does not match the reality. Mr. Reed needed a legal leg to stand on. Miss Landry needed health insurance. They used each other. And now a little girl is at risk because of it."
I can practically hear the blood pounding in my ears and my teeth grind together. But Paige—God, she just keeps breathing, focused and steady.
The Wells' lawyer begins introducing evidence, paperwork, timelines, even an anonymous tip about our wedding date in relation to the custody hearing. Every word is designed to make us look like liars. We are being portrayed as a couple playing house for the court.
When it's time for our lawyer to call our character witness, Ruby takes the stand first. She's fiery and clear. She tells the court exactly what she's witnessed: me raising Sadie with love and consistency and Paige stepping in like she was born to be a mother. Her words paint a picture that no document can.
"Mr. Reed is a better man than most I know who've never seen the inside of a jail. He's steady, loyal, and puts his daughter first in every decision he makes. And Paige? Paige is the kind of woman who stays up late sewing a unicorn patch onto a child's backpack because she knows it'll make her smile the next morning. That ain't a performance. That's a mother's heart."
The lawyer tries to rattle her. "Would you say your personal relationship with Mr. Reed might cloud your objectivity?"
Ruby smiles sweetly. "Would you say being paid by a land developer clouds yours?"
The room stifles a few chuckles. The judge doesn't crack a smile, but I see his brow lift.
Next up is Caitlin. She walks to the stand with calm, purposeful steps, wearing boots and a soft blue blouse. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap as she begins.
"I've known Paige a short time, but in that time, I've seen what matters most. When Sadie had a nightmare and called for Paige instead of anyone else—that said more to me than any affidavit could. Kids know who loves them. And Paige didn't have to love Sadie. She chose to every single day."
"And what about Mr. Reed?" the lawyer presses.
Caitlin's voice doesn't waver. "He's a damn good father. Not perfect, but the kind who reads bedtime stories, worries about sandwich crusts, and would walk through fire if it meant keeping that little girl safe. If that's not stable, I don't know what is."
Courtney follows, then Shane. Courtney talks about how Paige volunteers at the preschool, and helps with lesson plans. Shane talks about the changes he's seen in both me and Sadie since Paige moved in. Each testimony adds weight to our side, but the Wells' lawyer keeps trying to poke holes.
"Small-town loyalty is admirable," he says at one point. "But it can blind even the best of us."
Then he drops the bomb.
A large monitor flickers to life beside the bench.
"This photo," the lawyer says, clicking to the image. "Was taken the day after Miss Landry collapsed in the kitchen. She had dangerously low blood sugar. The child was in the home and had Mr. Reed not intervened, this could have been fatal."
The picture fills the screen of Paige and me entering the doctor's office the next day.
It feels like someone kicked the air out of my lungs. You can tell Paige isn't feeling well and shows the dark circles under her eyes. She is pale and still in her pajamas. There's an audible intake of breath from the gallery.
Then comes the final blow. The lawyer reads a statement from her ex. A carefully worded, venomous narrative about her "emotional instability," painting her as unreliable and prone to "erratic behavior." He stops just short of calling her unfit. He doesn't have to. The implication hangs in the air.
I glance at Paige.
She looks like someone just reached inside her and pulled out her heart. But still, she doesn't cry, she doesn't speak. She just folds her hands in her lap and stares at the floor, like if she doesn't move, maybe this will pass.
That's when I stand.
"Your Honor," I say, my voice rough. "May I speak?"
The judge looks over his glasses. "You understand this is unconventional?"
"Yes, sir," I say. "But I think it's necessary."
He nods once.
I step forward, each movement slow and deliberate, like walking into a storm.
"I didn't marry Paige for insurance. Yes, I married her because I needed help. I needed someone beside me in a fight I wasn't sure I could win alone. But what I didn't know was how much I needed her."
I let my words settle.
"That photo? It wasn't her being reckless. That was her pushing through exhaustion and illness to make sure my daughter was fed, safe, and loved. I was there. I sat on the floor with her that night, scared out of my damn mind. And you know what I realized?"
I turn to Paige.
"She wasn't the liability. I was. I was the one who didn't know how to help. She's the strongest person I've ever met."
My voice thickens. I push through.
"She didn't just care for Sadie. She gave her hope. She gave her joy. She gave her a home. And she gave me a reason to believe I could be better than my past."
I take a breath. My hands are shaking.
"This isn't fake. This is the most real thing I've ever had."
And then, because the truth deserves to be heard--whether it wins us the case or not,I say it.
"I love you, Paige. I think maybe I've loved you since the day you made Sadie laugh. And I don't care what anyone in this room thinks about that. Because it's the truth. You're my partner. My home. And I will never stop fighting for you. For us."
The room is silent.
And then, soft footsteps.
Sadie.
I hadn't noticed her with Shane and Caitlin sitting in the back of the courtroom. Sadie still has her notebook in her hand, her glittery sneakers squeaking on the floor as she runs up to Paige.
She wraps her arms around Paige’s waist and says, "Don't cry, Mama."
The entire room holds its breath.
Paige drops to her knees, gathering Sadie into her arms. Her shoulders shake as she cries into our daughter's hair. And I cross the space to them, resting my hand over both of theirs.
A family.
The judge waits, watching it all. No gavel. No words.
Just... time.
Finally, he clears his throat and sits back.
"This is a real family. Messy, maybe. Imperfect, definitely. But real." He looks down at his papers. "Custody remains with Mr. Reed. And the court recognizes this marriage as valid."
Then he removes his glasses and looks directly at us.
"I've been on this bench a long time. I've seen all kinds of families. Some bound by blood, others by circumstance. But what matters in this courtroom isn't how a family looks on paper. It's how they show up for each other when it matters most."
He gestures toward us.
"This child knows who her home is. It's not about who has a better income or whose past looks cleaner. It's about love. Stability. Sacrifice. I saw a man today who took ownership of his past. A woman who stood in the fire and didn't flinch. And a little girl who calls them hers."
His voice softens.
"This court will not be used as a weapon by those who seek to twist truth into leverage. You didn't just defend custody today, you reminded all of us what family actually means."
He nods once more, and then adds gently, "Case closed."
The Wells family storms out in silence, their lawyer trailing behind. But not before casting one last, lingering look at Paige. It’s a cold, calculating stare that sends a chill down my spine.
We won.
But as Paige clutches Sadie close and I wrap them both in my arms, I know one thing with absolute certainty: This fight is far from over.