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In each case, I can imagine two scenarios: the one I can provide and the one Elizabeth is promising. Nothing seems guaranteed.

You did everything you could.

Yet it might not be enough.

I tune back to reality in time to hear the judge’s final words. “I believe it’s in the child’s best interests to remain with his father. The environment he lives in now with school friends, hobbies, a grandmother nearby, and a loving parental figure in the home who is in his own stable relationship leaves me more than confident of his happiness and well-being. However, I am sympathetic to a mother who learns from mistakes and wants to rectify them, which is why I’m including a visitation arrangement in the custody decision. I think it can only be beneficial to have the influence of both parents, assuming you can adhere to a schedule that doesn’t put any undue pressure on your son or force him to miss out on the daily activities that provide stability. I’ll provide the full text of my decision and all supporting documents to both attorneys to review.”

There’s chatter around me, but I can’t make out any of it. The whole experience feels surreal, and I’m reacting like I’m in some sort of dream state, moving slowly through mud. Callie comes around to where I sit, motionless, and holds out her arms. Only then do the full ramifications of what the judge just said begin to filter through my brain.

Pushing my chair back, I come around and slide into her arms, loving the feel of her cheek against my chest and feeling her smile even though I can’t see it through her tangle of hair. I pull her close and hold her while John buzzes around us, saying irrelevant things like, “What you said in the judge’s office was genius” and “things always turn out the way they should in the end.”

I extend my hand to shake his and let him waddle out of the courthouse feeling good about the win. “To him, it’s just another case,” I say.

“Maybe he has to be that way. If he invests emotionally, it would be too hard on the days without a win.”

“Maybe.”

Callie pulls back and looks up at me. Cheeks pink. Eyes sparkling. “You did it. Scout is so lucky. I’m so proud of you for fighting this fight.”

I close my eyes and feel a smile creep over my closed lips. “It still hasn’t fully hit me. Tell me again. I can keep Scout, right? That’s what she said?”

Callie nods. “Because she rules on what’s in his best interests, and if anyone spends five minutes checking out what kind of father you are, there’s nothing to talk about. It was the right decision.”

I nod. “Probably also right to give him structured time with his mother.”

She shrugs. I love that she’s as skeptical of Elizabeth as I am when she barely knows her. “Speak of the devil,” she says quietly as I get a whiff of Elizabeth’s perfume and then feel her presence like a sour wind.

“This is fine. It’s fine,” she says, brushing her hands together as though she’s finished with the whole mess she created. “Probably better, honestly, because I’m expecting, and I really need to focus on the new baby.”

Charles comes up next to her and stands there, his cream-colored pants belted beneath his martini-induced belly. His round pink cheeks and small round spectacles make him look especially cartoonish. “Ah, so you’ve shared our news,” he says.

“Congratulations, you two,” I say.

“Yes, congrats,” Callie echoes.

The conversation instantly shifts to their plans for baby showers and the difficulty of finding a good live-in baby nurse. “I mean, we have the guest cottage, so the baby could stay there at night with the nurse so it’s quiet in the house.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her version of raising a child. On most days, I count myself lucky that she took off and left me to raise Scout, because I never would have been happy with her world of baby nurses, round-the-clock nannies, and housekeepers. “I’m sure you’ll work it all out,” I say, adding some cursory goodbyes and planning to connect and arrange Scout’s visitation schedule.

The second Callie and I are outside, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in months. “Oh my god, this is really over,” I say, checking the time. I’d asked one of the moms to take Scout home with her for a playdate, but it’s early enough that we can pick him up from school.

I don’t have to tell Callie what I’m thinking—she’s walking toward my truck and talking about picking up Scout after school and taking him back to Loveland Ranch for a swim in the pool. Like there’s no question we’ll spend the afternoon together. The three of us. Like the family we’ve become.

Just like there’s no question that I want her to stay here now that the custody hearing is over. She fits in so perfectly, the missing piece in the life we had before. I just hope she sees it that way too.

An hour later, we sit by the pool at Loveland Ranch and watch Scout swim like a fish. I feel like a spectator at the Olympic 100-meter finals, so excited to see how he’s taken to the water this summer. He finishes an entire lap across the pool, and even before he slaps his hand on the side, he pops his head out of the water and grins at me.

“See, Daddy? I told you I’m a fast learner.”

“I never doubted that for a second.”

For months, I second-guessed myself, wondering if it was the right decision to keep my custody battle with his mother on the down-low, rather than telling him what was happening. I knew he probably sensed my stress, but I couldn’t stomach the idea of burdening him with the threat of moving away from Willow Springs when I had no idea how the custody court would rule.

Now, I’m so glad I can just resume our lives as they are, with some added structure around him seeing his mom. For the first time since Elizabeth left, I actually feel like it’s a good thing for Scout to spend some time with his mother as long as his status quo isn’t disrupted here.

Callie is wearing a navy-blue bikini, which is just as flattering as the pink one, and despite their urging to jump in the pool, I’m staying on a lounge chair. It’s more relaxing to watch them than to join the fun. And I know it’s only a matter of minutes before I’ll cave and dive in anyway.

“Well, if you insist on staying dry, could you go grab a couple of towels from the laundry room?” Callie asks. I look around, and sure enough, there isn’t a towel to be seen out here.