The People I Love
The family court was hushed but tense as the judge delivered the final ruling. Harper sat rigidly beside her lawyer, her face pale and tight. Percy sat on the opposite side with his own lawyer, looking calm and resolute.
Judge Smith looked down at the documents one last time before speaking in a clear, authoritative voice.
"After reviewing all evidence, including video footage, witness testimonies, and character assessments, this court finds that Mrs. Harper Ryde has demonstrated a consistent pattern of neglect and emotional unavailability toward her minor daughter, Katherine Ryde.
The incident involving physical assault on her mother-in-law in the presence of the child, combined with documented neglect, leads this court to conclude that it is in the best interest of the child to award full custody to Mr. Percy Ryde. "
Harper's face drained of color.
The judge continued, her tone uncompromising:
"Mrs. Harper Ryde will be granted supervised visitation only, twice a month for two hours, pending completion of a court-ordered parenting course and psychological evaluation. Any further incidents of aggression or neglect will result in the complete termination of visitation rights."
The gavel came down with a sharp crack.
Harper shot up from her seat, voice shaking with humiliation and rage.
"This is bullshit!" she cried. "You're taking my daughter away from me because of one mistake? Percy is turning you all against me!"
The judge's eyes narrowed. "Sit down, Mrs. Ryde. This decision is final."
Percy stood slowly, his voice calm but devastatingly cold as he looked directly at his soon-to-be ex-wife.
"You did this to yourself, Harper. You slapped my mother in front of our daughter.
You left Kitty crying for hours while you were on your phone.
You've treated motherhood like an inconvenience since the day she was born.
Today, the court finally saw what I've been living with for months.
You are not fit to be her mother right now. "
Harper's face burned with shame as whispers rippled through the small courtroom. Her lawyer tried to pull her back down, but she shook him off.
"You're all against me!" she shouted, tears of fury streaming down her face. "You think you're so perfect, Percy? You'll regret this. I'll make sure everyone knows what a controlling bastard you are!"
Percy didn't raise his voice. He simply looked at her with pity and disgust.
"The only person who should be regretting anything today is you. Kitty deserves a mother who puts her first. Not someone who uses her as a prop for sympathy. From now on, you will see her only under supervision. Get help, Harper. Because right now, you're not the mother she needs."
Harper stood there, trembling with humiliation as the judge dismissed the court. Everyone's eyes were on her, the once-proud Prescott daughter reduced to a woman who had just permanently lost custody of her own child.
She stormed out of the courtroom, face burning, tears mixing with mascara. The weight of the judge's words and Percy's calm, brutal honesty followed her like a shadow.
She had been thoroughly, publicly humiliated.
And deep down, she knew she had no one to blame but herself.
×××××××
Rebecca was sitting in the living room with a cup of tea when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and answered with a sigh.
"Francesca, what is it?"
Francesca's voice exploded through the speaker, shrill and furious.
"Mrs. Prescott, your son didn't show up for our lunch date today!
Again! This is the third time he's done this!
He promised his grandfather he would get married!
We are supposed to marry after Emery gives birth and he's still behaving like a child running away every single time we're supposed to meet!
How much longer am I supposed to tolerate this humiliation? "
Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose, her voice tight. "Francesca, calm down. I will talk to him. He will honor his promise."
"He better!" Francesca screamed. "Because if he keeps this up, I'm done waiting! Tell him to stop acting like Emery is his wife and start treating me like his future one!"
Rebecca hung up, her face set in a hard line.
Just as she placed the phone down, Jesse walked into the living room. He looked exhausted, his shoulders tense, eyes shadowed.
Rebecca stood up immediately.
"Jesse. Francesca just called. She said you didn't show up for your lunch date today. Again."
Jesse stopped in the middle of the room. He didn't look surprised. He simply exhaled slowly, his voice calm but final.
"I'm not marrying Francesca, Mom."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You made a promise to your grandfather on his deathbed. You promised you would get married."
Jesse met her gaze without flinching. His voice was quiet but carried steel.
"I promised Grandpa that I would get married. I did not promise him that I would marry Francesca in particular. I will not marry a woman I don't love, especially not one who treats me like a prize to be won."
Rebecca stepped closer, her tone sharp. "You don't get to decide that after everything this family has been through. Your grandfather's last wish-"
"Was for me to be happy," Jesse cut in firmly, raising his voice just enough to stop her.
"Not to be blackmailed into a loveless marriage with someone I can't stand.
I've tried to be respectful. I've sat through the dinners and the lunches you forced on me.
But I'm done pretending. I will not marry Francesca. Never."
Rebecca's face flushed with anger. "Jesse Prescott, you will not speak to me like-"
"I will speak to you however I need to," he interrupted again, his eyes blazing. "You've used Grandpa's death to control me for long enough. I loved him. I respected him. But I will not ruin the rest of my life because of a promise you're twisting to suit your own agenda."
He turned toward the door, then paused and looked back at her one last time.
"I'm not a coward anymore, Mom. Not when it comes to the people I love."
With that, Jesse walked out of the living room, leaving Rebecca standing there, stunned and furious.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Rebecca stared at the empty doorway, her hands clenched into fists.
For the first time, she realized her youngest son was no longer willing to be controlled.
×××××××
Ivy's excitement was barely contained as she led Emery down the hallway, her hands gently covering Emery's eyes from behind. Emery was now thirty-three weeks now. Heavy and swollen. But glowing and beautiful.
"No peeking!" Ivy said, her voice bright and happy. "Just a few more steps... okay, stop right here."
They had reached the door of the nursery. Ivy carefully pushed it open, the soft scent of fresh paint and new wood drifting out.
"Ready?" Ivy whispered, her palms still over Emery's eyes. "Three... two... one..."
She slowly removed her hands.
Emery blinked, her stormy eyes widening as she took in the completed nursery.
The room was breathtaking.
The walls were painted a soft, warm gray that felt calming and welcoming. One accent wall was a deep, elegant navy blue: still blank, waiting for the baby's name to be painted in beautiful lettering.
A large white crib stood proudly against the navy wall, dressed with soft bedding in cream and navy tones. Next to it was a matching changing table with neatly organized drawers.
A beautiful white rocking chair sat by the large window, bathed in gentle natural light, with a plush cream cushion and a soft throw blanket draped over the back.
Shelves lined one wall, already filled with the little things Jesse had secretly bought: the tiny onesies, the stuffed lion, the leather baby book, and more. A beautiful wooden mobile with stars and moons hung above the crib, turning slowly in the breeze from the open window.
Emery's hands flew to her mouth as tears instantly filled her eyes.
"Oh... Ivy..." she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "It's... it's so beautiful."
She stepped further into the room, turning slowly to take everything in. Her fingers brushed over the smooth wood of the crib, then moved to the rocking chair. She sat down carefully, her swollen belly making the movement awkward, and rocked gently once.
"I can already see myself sitting here with him," she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Rocking him to sleep... singing to him..."
Ivy stood in the doorway, smiling softly, her own eyes glistening.
"I wanted it to feel like home for both of you," she said quietly. "The accent wall is still empty because we didn't know the name yet. Once you and Jesse decide... we'll paint it beautifully. Something special."
Emery looked up at Ivy, her voice breaking. "Thank you... thank you so much. I never thought I'd have something like this. Not after everything that's happened. This room... it makes him feel so real. So wanted."
She placed both hands on her bump, fresh tears falling as she looked around the nursery again.
"Our little boy is going to be so loved here."
Ivy walked over and knelt beside the rocking chair, gently placing her hand on Emery's.
"He already is," she whispered. "By all of us."
Emery leaned her head against Ivy's shoulder, crying softly: not from sadness, but from overwhelming gratitude and love.
For the first time in a long time, the future felt a little brighter.
The nursery was ready.
And so was her heart.
×××××××