Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Don’t do anything stupid.
I walked to the witness stand, my heels clicking too loudly on the floor.
The bailiff approached with a Bible. “Please raise your right hand.”
I raised it, trying to keep it from shaking.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
The truth. The whole truth.
That our marriage is fake, and I’m in love with my boss, and I have recurring dreams about ninjas?
“I do,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I sat down.
The witness stand was even lonelier than it looked.
From here, I could see everyone: Gabriel, his expression carefully controlled, but his eyes worried. Anthony, leaning back in his chair, trying to look relaxed. Tonya, watching me with cold calculation. And Richard, standing in front of me with a smile that made my skin crawl.
“Mrs. Lyon,” he began. “Or should I say, Ms. Brennan? I understand you only recently took your husband’s name.”
Stay calm.
Answer the question.
Nothing more.
“I go by Lyon now,” I said carefully.
“Of course. How long have you been married to Dr. Lyon?”
“About a month or so.”
“A month or so?” He made a show of consulting his notes. “And how long were you dating before that?”
Here we go.
“A few weeks.”
“A few weeks,” he repeated, his tone suggesting this was somehow scandalous. “That’s quite a whirlwind romance.”
It’s not a question, Cate.
Don’t respond.
Just sit there.
But he was looking at me expectantly, and the silence stretched, and I felt my mouth opening.
“When you know, you know,” I said.
Good.
That was good.
Short. Simple.
See? You can do this.
“Indeed.” Richard’s smile sharpened. “And before you were married, you were employed as Megan’s nanny, correct?”
“Yes.”
“So you went from employee to wife in a matter of weeks.”
Still not a question.
“We fell in love,” I said, the words coming out more defensively than I’d intended. “It happens.”
“Does it?” He tilted his head. “Or did you see an opportunity? A wealthy surgeon, a custody battle, a chance to secure your position?”
“Objection!” Anthony was on his feet. “Counsel is badgering the witness.”
“Sustained,” Judge Winters said. “Mr. Castellano, ask questions, don’t make speeches.”
“Apologies, Your Honor.” Richard turned back to me. “Mrs. Lyon, are you qualified to care for children?”
Breathe.
Just breathe.
“I have a degree in culinary arts,” I said.
“So you’ve never worked with children before?”
“No.”
“So you have no experience in child-rearing?”
What is he trying to say? That I’m not qualified because I don’t have a degree in Childhood Education?
I felt something hot and sharp rising in my chest.
“My experience,” I said slowly, “is that I love Megan like she’s my own daughter.
I take care of her every day. I make her breakfast, help her with her homework, and read her stories at night.
I know that she likes her sandwiches cut diagonally, not straight across.
I know that she’s afraid of thunderstorms but loves the rain.
I know that she wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up, or maybe an astronaut, depending on the day. I know—”
Stop.
Stop talking.
You’re doing it again.
But I couldn’t stop.
“—that she has nightmares sometimes about dragons, and I sit with her until she falls back asleep. I know that she’s brilliant and funny and kind, and she deserves to be with people who love her unconditionally, not people who only want her when it’s convenient.”
“Mrs. Lyon—” Richard tried to interrupt.
“—and yes, maybe I haven’t been in her life as long as some people, but I’m THERE. Every single day. I’m there when she wakes up and when she goes to sleep, and for every moment in between. I’m there when she’s happy and when she’s sad and when she breaks her arm falling off a skateboard—”
Oh no.
Oh no, why did I mention the broken arm?
“—which was an accident, by the way, and could have happened to anyone, and I got her to the hospital fast and stayed with her the entire time, and she was so brave, and I was so scared, and—”
“Your Honor.” Richard was trying again.
But I was on a roll now, the words pouring out like I’d opened a dam.
“—and I know I’m not perfect. I know I talk too much when I’m nervous, and I stress-bake, and I have weird dreams about ninjas with butter knives—”
From the gallery, I heard someone choke.
Was that Fitz?
Oh God, Fitz is here.
They’re all here.
Watching me have a complete meltdown on the witness stand.
“—and maybe I’m not the most conventional person, and maybe our relationship moved fast, but it’s REAL. What we have is real. The way I feel about Megan is real. The way I feel about Gabriel is—”
I stopped.
Don’t say it.
Don’t say you love him in front of a courtroom full of people.
“—is real,” I finished lamely. “It’s all real.
And I know you’re trying to make it seem like we’re lying or scheming or whatever, but we’re not.
We’re just a family. A weird, imperfect, slightly chaotic family, but a family, nonetheless.
And Megan is happy. She’s HAPPY. Isn’t that what matters? Isn’t that the whole point?”
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
I looked at Richard, who was staring at me like I’d just sprouted a second head.
I looked at Judge Winters, whose expression was carefully neutral, but whose eyes seemed... amused?
I looked at Gabriel, who had his head in his hands.
Oh God.
I did it again.
I completely spiraled in front of a JUDGE.
“Are you...” Richard cleared his throat. “Are you finished?”
“Yes,” I said in a small voice. “Sorry. I’m finished.”
“Your Honor,” Richard said, turning to the judge. “I think the witness’s... outburst speaks for itself. Clearly, she’s emotionally unstable.”
“Objection!” Anthony was on his feet again. “Mrs. Lyon’s testimony shows genuine emotion and care for the child in question. That’s hardly instability.”
“She rambled about ninja dreams!” Richard protested.
“She was nervous,” Anthony countered. “And she answered your questions honestly and thoroughly. Perhaps too thoroughly, but that’s hardly a crime.”
Judge Winters held up a hand. “Gentlemen. That’s enough.”
She looked at me, and I wanted to sink through the floor.
This is it.
This is where she tells me I’m unfit.
This is where we lose Megan.
“Mr. Gallagher,” Judge Winters said. “Do you have any redirect?”
Anthony stood. “Yes, Your Honor.” He approached the witness stand with the kind of confidence that made me think of sharks circling prey. Except this time, I was pretty sure he was on my side.
Please don’t ask me about the ninjas again.
Please, please, please.
He stopped a few feet away, and for just a second, he winked at me.
Did he just—Did Anthony Gallagher just wink at me?
In court?
It was so quick I almost missed it, but it was there, a tiny gesture of reassurance that said, “You’re okay, I’ve got this.”
I took a deep breath.
Okay.
Okay, you can do this.
Just answer his questions.
Don’t spiral.
Don’t mention ninjas.
Or butter knives.
“Mrs. Lyon,” Anthony began, his voice calm and measured. “What does a typical day look like for you and Megan?”
I felt my shoulders relax slightly. “I wake Megan up at seven. We have breakfast together—usually something she helps make, like pancakes or eggs. Then I get her ready for the day. Sometimes we bake, or do art projects, or go to the park. I make dinner most nights. We read together before bed.”
“That sounds very structured.”
“It is. Gabriel, Dr. Lyon, values routine. It helps Megan feel secure.”
Anthony nodded, pacing slightly. “And you’ve adapted to that structure?”
“Yes. I mean, I’m not naturally the most organized person”— understatement of the century—“but I’ve learned. Because it’s what Megan needs.”
“You’ve learned,” Anthony repeated. “You’ve adapted your own habits to better serve this child’s needs.”
“Yes.”
He stopped pacing, turning to face me fully.
“Mrs. Lyon, I have one more question for you.”
Okay.
One more question.
You can do this.
“Do you love my client?” Anthony asked. “Do you love Gabriel?”
The courtroom went silent.
What? Wait... WHAT?
He did NOT just ask... We didn’t prep this. We didn’t talk about this.
I’m not ready for this question.
My eyes flew to Gabriel.
He was staring at me, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were intense, focused, waiting.
Oh God.
Oh God, what do I say?
I can’t lie. I’m under oath.
I literally cannot lie right now.
But if I tell the truth—if I tell the truth in front of all these people...
“Mrs. Lyon?” Anthony prompted gently.
I swallowed hard.
“I—” My voice came out barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t expecting that question.”
“I know. But I need you to answer it honestly.”
Honestly.
He wants me to be honest.
In a courtroom.
In front of Gabriel.
In front of everyone.
I looked at Gabriel again. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t looked away.
He was just... waiting.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lyon, could you speak up for the court?”
I took a breath. “Yes. I love him.”
My words hung in the air.
“When did you realize that?” Anthony asked.
“I don’t... I don’t know exactly. It wasn’t one moment. It was...” I struggled to find the words. “It was watching him with Megan. The way he reads to her every night, even when he’s exhausted from surgery. The way he makes her laugh. The way he—”
Stop.
You’re rambling again.
But this time it’s different.
This time it’s true.
“It was the little things,” I continued, my voice stronger now.
“The way he makes sure I eat when I’m stress-baking.
The way he listens when I talk, even when I’m spiraling about something ridiculous.
The way he looks at me like... like I’m not too much.
Like all the parts of me that are chaotic and anxious and weird are just..
. part of who I am. And he doesn’t want me to change them. ”
I could feel tears threatening, but I blinked them back.