Chapter 2
COLE
“Mr. and Mrs. Dawson,” Judge Halden begins, her voice level, professional, and mercifully devoid of sympathy. I don’t want sympathy. I want my daughter. “After reviewing the reports, statements submitted, and recommendations from Child Protective Services, I’m ready to finalize my ruling.”
Across the aisle, Calista lets out a tiny scoff, one long leg over the other, her heel bouncing like she’s at a damn salon appointment and not at the final hearing of our divorce.
Toby sits beside her, smug bastard that he is, leaning back in his chair in that relaxed way he perfected back when he pretended to be my best friend.
If I look at either of them too long, I’ll regret it. So I don’t. I sit rigid in my chair, hands folded on the table, knuckles white. Matt, my lawyer, is next to me, calm, collected, the same way he’s been through every damn nightmare the last year has thrown at me.
Judge Halden lifts her gaze. “In the matter of physical and legal custody of Aria Jane Dawson, age nine…” She pauses, eyes flicking to me. “The court awards full custody to Mr. Cole Alden Dawson.”
The air leaves my lungs in a hard, unsteady exhale.
Matt leans in, murmuring, “I told you we had this.”
He says it like this win was inevitable. Maybe for him it was. He’s good at this, at being detached and clinical. I’m not. I’m just a parent who almost lost his kid because I married a woman who never wanted to be one.
Calista scoffs louder this time. “Good riddance,” she snaps, her voice sharp enough to ricochet off the paneled walls. “I never wanted either of you anyway.”
My jaw clenches. I don’t rise to it. I don’t rise to anything anymore when it comes to her. And to think I once thought I was in love with her. Oh, how blind I was.
But Toby shifts forward, lips curling into something venomous. “Guess you win this one, Cole. You should thank us.”
I turn my head slowly, deliberately, and meet his eyes. “I’ll reserve my gratitude for people who deserve it.”
He blinks, and for once, he doesn’t have a comeback.
The judge continues as if she hasn’t heard any of it. God bless her. “In matters of property division,” she says, “the court rules that marital assets be split fifty-fifty. This includes all real estate, liquid assets, and business holdings, including Dawson Construction.”
My heart drops, hits something hard inside my chest. I knew it was coming. Matt warned me. But hearing it out loud is a different kind of blow.
Dawson Construction isn’t just a business. It’s my father’s legacy. It’s the first thing I learned to love after I learned to walk. It’s years of sweat, busted knuckles, early mornings, and pride.
And now half of it belongs to a woman who didn’t lift a damn brick in her life. She’s all smiles, Toby grinning like a fool by her side.
“However,” the judge continues, “given the complexity of the company’s valuation, the court grants a window of 180 days. Within that time, either party may buy out the other’s share. If neither party succeeds, the business will be legally split.”
I swallow hard. Six months to find enough money to buy out half of a multi-million-dollar construction empire? It’s insane.
But I still nod. “Understood, Your Honor.”
Calista huffs like we’re wasting her time. Toby sets his hand over hers, some twisted display of solidarity, and I can’t help but wonder how two people can burn down everything and still look smug about it.
The judge bangs the gavel lightly. “This divorce is finalized.”
It’s finally over.
Except it’s not. Not really. I still have to pick up the pieces Calista and Toby have left behind, figure out how to save my company, and raise my daughter with enough stability that she never doubts she’s loved.
But at least for now, I’ve earned all rights to my little girl.
Matt stands, gathering papers. “Congratulations, Cole.”
“Thank you,” I say, shaking his hand. “Really.”
“We’ll talk strategy later this week. You need to move fast if you’re going to beat her on the buyout.”
“I know.”
We step into the hallway, the air cooler than the courtroom but just as bright. Calista and Toby stroll out behind us, whispering, laughing, like this was some entertainment spectacle.
She throws her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t look so tense, Cole. You got what you wanted. A kid and a dead company.”
Toby snorts. “Yeah, real triumph.”
I turn, look at them both, and for the first time in months, I don’t feel anger. I feel pity.
“You two deserve each other,” I declare simply. “And that’s not a compliment.”
Calista’s smile drops. Toby’s jaw ticks.
Good.
Matt puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ignore them.”
“I’m trying.”
He nods toward the exit. “Go take care of your daughter. I’ll see you soon.”
Yeah, that’s the plan.
“Thanks again.”
As he walks away, I pull out my phone and call my mom.
She’s been waiting for this call all morning. She didn’t want to be in the courtroom, saying she didn’t trust herself not to throw her purse at Calista’s head.
She picks up on the first ring. “Cole? Sweetheart?”
Her voice is thin at the edges, like she’s bracing for impact.
I swallow. “It’s done.”
A breath catches on her end, sharp, hopeful. “And?”
I drag a hand over my face. “I got her, Mom. Full custody.”
It’s silent for a moment, and then a rush of sound—a half sob, half laugh.
“Oh, thank God,” she whispers. “Oh, honey… thank God.”
I close my eyes for a second, letting her relief steady me. Mom’s been there through everything—the fights, sleepless nights, and the ugly moments I didn’t want her to see. She deserves this peace almost as much as I do.
“Where is Aria?” I ask.
“She’s with me. I’m actually driving us to town. I was going to treat her to ice cream. Lift her spirits. She’s been… worried, Cole. More than she let on.”
My chest tightens. I hate that my little girl had to carry even a fraction of this.
“Let’s meet there. I’m on my way out of the courthouse.”
“We’re ten minutes out,” she replies. There’s a smile in her voice now. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You fought for her. You didn’t give up.”
“I couldn’t. She’s all I’ve got.”
“Not all,” Mom corrects gently. “But she’s the most important part. Drive safe. We’ll see you soon.”
I hang up, exhale, and head to see my girl.
Aria spots my truck before I’ve even parked. She bursts out of Mom’s car like she’s been spring-loaded, dark curls flying, backpack bouncing. My mother trails behind her, trying to keep up.
I barely get the door open before Aria barrels into me. “Daddy!”
I lift her into my arms, squeezing her so tight she giggles. “Hey, princess.”
“Yaya said the judge made a verdict. How did it go?” she mumbles into my shoulder as if scared of my response.
I pull back just enough to look at her, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It went great. You never have to see Calista ever again.”
Her face softens in pure relief, and she hugs me again, even tighter this time. Mom reaches us, eyes bright with emotion. She cups my cheek, the same way she has since I was a boy.
“Congratulations,” she murmurs. “You did it.”
I lean into her touch for a second, grounding myself. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You two go inside,” she says, stepping back and straightening her purse strap. “I’ll let you have some time alone, yeah?”
I nod. “You sure?”
She smiles softly. “I’ve seen my granddaughter every day this week. She needs her daddy today.”
Mom gives me one last proud look before heading toward her car. I hold Aria against my side, feeling her small hand slip into mine as we walk toward the glowing pastel storefront.
And for the first time in months, the future doesn’t feel like a fight. It feels like a beginning.
The bell above the door jingles as Aria and I step inside the small ice cream shop we’ve been coming to since she was four. It’s pastel-colored and smells like vanilla and childhood.
Aria presses her hand into mine as she stares at the display case. “Can I get the triple swirl? The big one?”
I pretend to think. “Hmm… I don’t know. Triple swirl might be too powerful for you.”
She gasps dramatically, planting her hands on her hips. “Daddy. I’m nine. I can handle anything.”
I laugh for the first time today. “Alright, alright. Triple swirl it is.”
She beams up at me, and all the shit from this morning—the custody, the business, the insults—fades into something manageable.
We take our cones to a little booth near the window. She kicks her feet as she licks her ice cream, getting chocolate on her chin.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, princess?”
“Does this mean we’re really done with court stuff now?”
I nod, smoothing her hair back. “Yeah. No more courts. No more waiting. You’re home with me now. Full time.”
She leans sideways and hugs me, small arms squeezing my ribs. “Good. I missed you too much whenever I had to stay with her.”
I swallow around the tightness in my throat. “Me too.”
I’m about to say something else when the bell above the door rings again.
And she walks in.
Ella Morgan.
A shock goes through me so fast I forget how to breathe. She’s wearing jeans and a cream sweater, her long dark brown hair in loose waves down her back. Her charcoal grey eyes scan the shop, and when they land on me, the memories hit hard.
The same one I’ve been trying not to think about for a month.
Her.
Under me in that office.
The sound she made when I said her name.
The way she clung to my shoulders, trusting me with her whole damn body.
All I wanted was one night of fun to unwind, but all it took was one look, a touch lingered too long, and I was a goner before I could tap out.
The Morgans will have my head if they ever learn what I did to their youngest, especially after they’ve been so good to me over the years.
They helped me stay afloat after my dad died, and I owe a lot of my success to them.
If only I hadn’t repaid that kindness by fucking their youngest in the mayor’s office.
I look away for half a second, but she’s already moving toward us.
“Cole?”
My pulse jumps. “Shi—Ella.”
I quickly catch myself. That name seems too intimate, even if it is her legal name.
She smiles back, small but warm. “Hi.”
Aria looks between us, curious. “Hi, Miss Ella!”
Ella brightens instantly. “Hey, sweetheart. You look taller.”
Aria gasps. “Daddy! She noticed!”
Ella and I both laugh, and God, I forgot what her laugh does to me. It loosens something in my chest and tightens something lower.
She glances at me. “Big day?”
I nod slowly. I already told her about my separation. “Yeah. The judge finalized everything an hour ago.”
Her expression softens. “And…?”
“I got full custody.”
A breath leaves her lips, like she’s been holding it without knowing. “That’s great, Cole. Aria belongs with you.”
I look at my daughter, watching the two of us with wide, content eyes, and I nod. “Yeah. She does.”
Ella shifts her weight, unsure for the first time. “What about Dawson Construction?” she asks gently.
I exhale. “Split fifty-fifty. I can buy her out, but I’ve got six months to scrounge up half a fortune.”
She tilts her head, warm concern in her eyes. “I know you can do it. That company is your life. And you’re stubborn as hell.”
A low laugh slips out of me. “You think so?”
“I know so,” she nods, holding my gaze a beat too long. “You’re a good dad. And a good man. Even if life has been kicking you around.”
My chest tightens. Not painfully. Just… aware.
“You always did see the best in people,” I murmur.
“And you always pretended you didn’t deserve it,” she replies softly.
Silence hums between us, heavy with things we didn’t say after that night.
She doesn’t bring it up. I don’t either.
We’re in public, my daughter’s beside me, and yet, the air shifts.
Her eyes flicker once to my mouth, and my throat goes dry.
Every breath, every inch of space pulls toward her like gravity.
Aria breaks the tension first. “Miss Ella, you look really pretty today.”
Ella laughs, cheeks warming. “Thank you, baby. You’ve made my day.” Then she steps back, smoothing her sweater. “I should let you two celebrate. Really, Cole… I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it more than she knows.
“Bye, Miss Ella!” Aria waves.
“Bye, darling.”
Ella turns to leave. The bell rings again as she steps into the sunlight. And the moment she’s gone, the booth feels empty in a way I can’t explain. I stare out the window until she disappears out of sight, letting the weight of wanting something I shouldn’t settle deep into my bones.
Ella isn’t mine, and I’ve got no business wishing she was.
But God help me… I wish it anyway.