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He points at the bag of photos and albums on my lap. I feel like a magician’s assistant being instructed to prepare the top hat for the rabbit reveal.

“Is this okay?” I ask, gesturing to the space on the judge’s desk. She nods.

I start taking the items out of the bag and displaying them one by one. In my rush to pull everything together last night after Luke texted me, I didn’t spend time really looking at each picture. I focused on printing them out and grouping them to show a progression of our relationship, which was easy to do. I started with the selfies I snapped that first day at the vintage shop. The rest fell into place in a natural progression.

Me in the tiara, Luke in the Uncle Sam top hat.

Then the ones of me nudging Luke and trying to get him to smile at the diner.

A few framed pictures of us from that day at the lake. Looking at them now, we don’t seem like two people who barely know each other. We’re skimming stones, picnicking, talking to Ryan. Luke looks easy and content with his arm draped over my shoulders.

Then the pictures by the stream right before Luke pulled me into the water. I managed to snap a few pictures on the tripod of us splashing each other and laughing before I was too wet to handle the remote, so I tossed it onto the bank. My heart somersaults at the memory of that day, not too long ago, and the night that followed.

Luke is looking over my shoulder, nodding at the proof of our unfolding relationship, which looks legitimate in all these pictures and saved pieces of evidence.

Luke reaches into a brown paper grocery bag I hadn’t noticed and pulls out the tiara and the top hat. “I saved these from that day. Wanted to remember it.”

My heart floods at the memory of that day, which now feels like a perfect first date. It shouldn’t make me sad to see these items presented in a legal case. That’s all they ever were—evidence. This isn’t the time to second-guess or get sentimental.

I set out a couple of framed photos of us with Scout at the pool and one from a pancake breakfast. “Aw, I remember that day.” Luke points at the one with the pancakes. “I’d always struggled to get Scout to eat enough fruit, and before either of us knew what happened, Callie had Scout racing her to eat the most blueberries. And now he always eats them first.”

Smiling at the recollection of that day, I’m surprised when Luke squeezes my hand under the desk. The judge can’t possibly see that display of affection, so I lift our hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles.

John stands by with a goofy grin on his face as though he’s the finest lawyer on the planet for producing such tremendous proof for his case. I’d like to slug him, but instead, I focus on the other items I’ve collected. “These are sworn affidavits from some of the people who know us to varying degrees—some friends, some people we do business with—but they all can vouch for the longevity of our relationship.”

Luke tips his head down and mutters, “I didn’t know you did that.”

I nod while the judge studies the pages with the best poker face I’ve ever seen. It must be a requirement for judges to develop a look that makes people in their office or courtroom pee their pants out of nervousness. I try to ignore my nerves and keep pulling out framed pictures and flipping pages of the photo album.

There are photos from Ryan’s barbecue that Jenny sent me because I told her I was making a scrapbook. Even though she was talking to me and her friend Ben, she managed to snap one of Luke.

I included it just because Luke looks so damn handsome. There’s something about the possessive way he’s staring, his strong, chiseled jaw looking like it’s carved from marble. His eyes look smoky and intense. His hair is rakishly tousled. His body language screams strength.

I figured it couldn’t hurt to try to curry a little favor with the judge. She is a woman, after all. I can’t possibly be the only one who’d look at a photo like that and want to do whatever this man is asking.

I’m not sure why, but I flip the picture over and see that Jenny scribbled something on the back. Squinting, I read her scrawl. “Luke staring at you. True love.” She’s added a little heart below the writing.

My heart starts to flutter, which then turns into an outright drumbeat as I process what she wrote. I quickly flip it back before Luke can read what it says, but he picks up the photo and turns it over. I expect one of his grunts or grimaces, but instead, he leans back in his chair, holding the photo to his chest. I hear him let out a long, slow breath.

“Hold on. Just…I need to be straight with you, Your Honor.”

She looks from me to John to Luke. “Am I to understand that what you’ve said so far is something other than being straight with me?”

My heart starts pounding. I don’t know what Luke is going to do, but I’m worried he’s getting cold feet about our story. I don’t want him to sabotage his chance of getting custody out of a misplaced fear or worry.

I look at him, my eyes pleading. If he knows me at all by now, I hope he can read my expression and see that I’ll back him up. I hope he can get himself back on course.

But then…

“The truth is…Elizabeth was right to question my relationship with Callie. In fact, she was right to allege that our relationship wasn’t real, that it was a contrived attempt to convince our mediator and your court to award me custody of my son. Because that’s the truth.”

My heart sinks. As he torpedoes his chances at custody, I feel like I’m losing something too. It’s not just that I’ve invested time and thought into fabricating a relationship for the sake of his court case. I’ve invested a part of myself. Without intending to, I’ve invested my heart.

I put a hand on his arm, hoping it’s a soft reminder that I’m on his side. He puts his hand on top of mine but continues looking straight at the judge. He’s in a zone, and I’m not sure I can steer him off his path.

“Am I understanding correctly that you said you two were in a relationship, but you were not?” the judge asks. She doesn’t have to explain the penalty for perjury. It’s clear.

“It wasn’t a relationship the day I claimed so in court,” Luke clarifies. I stare at my lap and shake my head, respecting his need to be honest but hating the consequences. “But it is now.”