Chapter 35 Ours
Ours
GAbrIEL
I wake to the sound of soft breathing, the familiar warmth of Millie beside me, her body nestled close against mine. For a moment, I just lie there, listening to her sleep, the rise and fall of her chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding me in a way nothing else can.
But today is different. The reality of what’s about to happen weighs heavily on my chest.
I turn slightly, careful not to wake her, and glance at the clock. It’s early, but my mind is already racing. The custody hearing. The one we’ve been dreading and anticipating for months. Today is the day it all comes to an end.
I gently brush a strand of hair from Millie’s face, and she stirs, shifting just enough to look at me. Her eyes flutter open, and for a split second, I see the confusion there before it melts into recognition.
“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I reply quietly, reaching out to tuck her closer to me. Her warmth is comforting, but it doesn’t quite calm the churn in my stomach. I can feel the tension radiating off her, too. She’s worried. She’s always worried about my little girl.
Millie shifts again, now awake, and I feel her hand curl in mine. She squeezed gently.
“Do you think it’s going to be okay?” She asks, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.
I hesitate for a second, then shake my head, not because I don’t think it’s going to be okay—but because I know how much this means to her, to both of us.
“I hope so,” I say, my voice gruff. “But I’m not worried. We’ve got this.”
She presses her forehead to mine, her hands clutching at the fabric of my shirt. “But what if…what if they decide to give her back to Haley? Gabriel, I—”
“Millie.” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. Her anxiety is visible, but there’s something else there, too—an overwhelming love for my daughter, a fierce desire to protect her. “We are her parents. For the past nine months, we have been there for her. No judge is going to take that from us.”
I know she wants to believe that, but I also know how much the fear of losing Aura still lingers in her heart. Hell, it’s in mine too. But I also know we’ve built something unbreakable, something no courtroom can touch.
“Let’s get through today,” I continue, my voice softer now. “Then we’ll breathe, okay?”
She nods, her eyes welling with tears, but she doesn’t cry. She reaches up to kiss me—slowly, deeply, a reminder of everything we’ve fought for. I lose myself in this kiss, in the promise we’re making to each other, to our family.
When we pull away, she rests her head on my chest, and I can feel her heart beating in time with mine. I brush a kiss on her forehead, murmuring softly, “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”
She nods again, and for the first time this morning, I see her breathing a little easier.
The courthouse is cold. I hadn’t expected it to be warm, but still, the sterile white walls, the echo of footsteps on polished floors, and it all feels…wrong. The only thing that feels right is Millie’s hand on me, her fingers gripping my arm as she holds our daughter in the other arm.
Her family is here. Her parents, her brothers, her sisters. They’re all sitting in the waiting room, just like us. But they’re not just family—they’re our support system, and I don’t know if we would’ve gotten through the past couple of months without them.
Reuben, her older brother, catches my eye as I walk in. His usual smile is replaced with something that resembles understanding, maybe even a little nervousness. He doesn’t say anything. He just gives me a nod. I return it, but I can’t help but feel the weight of his presence.
Millie’s sisters are gathered together, whispering quietly, and Lucie—her younger sister—gives me a thumbs up. It’s a small gesture, but in this moment, it feels like the world.
“Aura’s fine, Gab,” Kenna says, her voice low as she sits next to me. “She’s got us. No matter what happens in that courtroom today, she’s got us.”
I nod, though my stomach is in knots. She’s right, of course. Aura has us. She always has.
But Haley…she’s sitting on the other side of the room, out of my direct line of sight. But I know she’s there, and I know the sight of her will tear me apart.
The courtroom doors open, and we’re ushered inside. I try to steady my breath, but it’s like trying to control the tide. I take a deep breath, squeeze Millie’s hand once more, and follow her in.
I can feel the judge’s eyes on us the moment we walk in.
She’s sitting at the front of the room, her expression unreadable.
I can feel the weight of her gaze, the scrutiny.
But I’ve been through worse. A hundred different fights have led me to this point.
The fight for Aura. For Millie. And today, it’s all going to count.
The moment I see Haley, I freeze. There’s a chill that runs through me.
She’s sitting in the chair opposite us, her arms folded.
I don’t know what it is, but her presence has always felt off.
She was never there for Aura, not the way Millie and I have been.
And now, here she is—trying to step back into her life.
I can’t help but wonder what she’s hoping to gain by this.
But I’m not going to let her take our daughter. Not today. Not ever.
I take a seat, and Millie does the same beside me. She’s holding herself together better than I am, but I can feel her tension, her quiet fear. We’ve been through everything together, but this moment is unlike anything we’ve faced before.
The hearing begins, and our lawyer stands first. He presents our case—our life with Aura. He talks about the stability we’ve given her, the love we’ve shown her, and the fact that she’s a thriving, happy child because of the home we’ve built for her.
I feel Millie’s hand squeeze mine as the words hit the air. Our hearts are both in this. And it’s’ not just about the legal stuff—it’s about us, about the love we’ve poured into this family.
“Your Honor,” our attorney begins. “We are not here to punish Ms. Marks for her past, nor to shame her for walking away from a life she wasn’t ready for.
We are here because a little girl needs stability and the only stability she’s ever known is with Gabriel Sirolli and Millie Feely.
Her biological mother left. Her father stayed. ”
He pauses, then adds. “This court must not decide based on biology or regret but rather on love, consistency, and the child’s best interest.”
Haley rises with her lawyer. She walks to the stand slowly, her expression tightly wound. I feel Millie tense beside me.
Once she’s sworn in, Haley begins her statement.
“I was married to Gabriel when Aura was born. We were struggling. I was drowning. I didn’t have a support system, and I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Motherhood broke something in me.”
Her voice wavers. “So I left. I know what that sounds like. But I left because I was scared I would ruin her life. I thought if I stepped away, she’d have a better shot. But now, I’m better. I’ve changed.”
The judge’s eyes narrow. “Ms. Marks, you were married at the time?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And you did not seek custody at the time of separation?”
“No. I—I didn’t think I was fit. I just wanted her to be safe.”
Her lawyer steps forward. “Ms. Marks, can you explain what changed?”
“I started therapy. I joined a support group for postpartum depression. I got a stable job. I’m different now, and I want a second chance with my daughter.”
Our lawyer stands, calmly. “Ms. Marks, when you left your husband and child, did you inform Mr. Sirolli that your departure was temporary?”
Haley looks down. “No.”
“Did you make contact in the months after you left?”
“Not for a while.”
“You say you’ve changed, and that may be true. But change doesn’t undo abandonment. Aura was two weeks old when you left. That was your choice. And for the last eight months, you’ve been a stranger to your daughter. Isn’t that correct?”
“I didn’t abandon her!” Haley snaps, suddenly louder. “I walked away because I didn’t want to damage her further. That was love.”
The courtroom stirs. The judge holds up a hand, silencing the room.
Millie exhales sharply. I glance at her—she’s furious but holding it together.
“Your Honor,” her lawyer says, standing, “we request to question Ms. Feely.”
Millie rises. She walks slowly, not out of fear—but out of control. The moment she’s sworn in, our lawyer begins.
“Ms. Feely, how long have you been a parental figure in Aura’s life?”
Millie folds her hands on the stand, her voice steady. Almost six months. From the moment I met her I knew I loved her. I didn’t plan it. It just happened.”
“Can you describe your relationship with her?”
Millie pauses, her eyes softening slightly and I can only imagine she is picturing Aura in this moment.
“She calls me Mama. She comes to me when she’s sad.
She sings with me in the morning when she wakes up.
I know which cry means she’s tired and which cry means she’s just pretending.
I’ve rocked her through fevers and have been up at 3 a.m to feed her.
I’ve learned her piece by piece. Like a language.
Not because I had to, but because I couldn’t help myself. ”
The room is quiet. Even Haley isn’t moving.
The attorney nods gently. “In your words, Ms. Feely, what does it mean to be a mother?”
Millie inhales slowly, then exhales, her voice rich and full of emotion.
“Being a mother isn’t biology. It’s not blood.
It’s presence. It’s sacrifice. It’s the tiny choices no one sees—the ones you make over and over again without thinking.
Like giving up sleep, or sitting on the bathroom floor with your arms around a toddler who’s just thrown up, or leaving work early because she had a nightmare at daycare. ”
She clears her throat, but her voice holds. “Being a mom means showing up, even when you’re exhausted. Even when you’re scared. Even when you have no idea what you’re doing. It’s learning how to put someone else ahead of yourself, day after day, without applause or recognition.”
“Aura didn’t grow in my body,” Millie continues, her voice trembling now. “But she grew in my heart. Every single day, in every quiet moment, in every song we danced to in the kitchen, she became mine. I never asked to replace anyone. I just wanted to love her the way she deserved to be loved.”
She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye but stays composed.
“I’m not trying to erase Haley. I know she’s her birth mother. But I’m the one who stayed. I’m the one who’s been there—really been there. And not just for Aura. For Gabriel, too. This family—we’ve built it from the ground up. And I would walk through fire for that little girl.”
“Ms. Feely, did you ever attempt to interfere with the biological mother’s rights?”
Millie’s voice is steady. “No. Haley left. She never called. Never wrote or asked about Aura. When I met Gabriel he was alone and trying to be the best father he could to his little girl. That’s when I started being a nanny for him.
I ultimately not only fell for Aura, but for Gabriel too.
I consider Aura to be mine in everything that counts. ”
Haley’s lawyer stands. “You say you love Aura. That she calls you ‘Mama.’ But isn’t it true that you’ve never legally adopted her?”
Millie meets his eyes without flinching. “That’s true. Because we were waiting for the court to decide. But if you’re asking if I’m her mother—then yes. In every way that matters.”
The lawyer tilts his head. “And would you be willing to let Ms. Marks be a part of Aura’s life?”
Millie breathes in slowly. “If Haley proves she can be safe, stable, and consistent—sure. I believe Aura deserves to know where she came from. But she also deserves protection from chaos. From confusion. If you love a child, you don’t drop in when you feel like it.
You don’t leave and come back hoping they’ll still be waiting.
That’s not love. That’s instability. And I won’t let that happen to her. ”
The courtroom is still. No scribbling of notes, no whispering. Just stillness.
Then the judge shifts slightly in her seat, nodding. “Thank you, Ms. Feely. You may step down.”
Millie walks back to our table, and when she sits beside me, her hand finds mine under the table, fingers cold but strong. I squeeze them tight.
Finally, the judge speaks.
“I’ve reviewed the evidence, and it’s clear that the child’s best interest is with the parents she has known and loved.
I am awarding full custody to Gabriel Sirolli and Millie Feely.
Supervised visitation is granted to Ms. Marks, to be reassessed in six months depending on compliance with all court-ordered support. ”
Haley gasps—sharp, like she’s been hit. She starts to rise, shaking her head.
“No,” she says, voice cracking. “She’s mine.”
Her lawyer tries to calm her, but she pulls away. Her tears are loud now, almost violent. “You can’t just take my baby and call her yours!”
The judge stands. “This matter is settled, Ms. Marks. You may file for reevaluation in six months. Court is adjourned.”
It takes a moment to sink in. I look over at Millie, whose eyes are filled with tears, and then I see it—the relief flooding her expression. I can’t help it—I lean in and kiss her gently, but with everything I have.
We did it. We won.
The judge’s words echo in my mind as we exit the building. Full custody to Gabriel Sirolli and Millie Feely. That’s it. Aura’s ours.
Millie leans into me, pressing her forehead against my shoulder. “I can’t believe it,” she whispers, a soft laugh escaping her. “I can’t believe it’s really over.”
“Well, it’s not over,” I reply, my voice a little hoarse. “It’s just the beginning.”
Her smile widens at that, and for the first time today—in weeks, really—I finally feel like I can breathe. We did it, and in light of this victory, I know we’re stronger than anything we’ve faced.
As we walk into The Grilled Plate, our friends and family are awaiting our arrival. Millie’s parents, Lucie and Kenna, Asher and Reuben, and Josh, along with the rest of the CFPD crew, are all here.
“Come here!” Kenna calls, waving us over. “We are so happy for the both of you!”
Millie walks ahead of me, a hand pressed to her chest as she’s still trying to process the moment.
She’s always had this way of glowing when she’s around her family, and right now, it’s more beautiful than ever.
I slide into the chair next to her as she settles beside me with Aura on her lap, and I’m flooded with pride.