Chapter 4
The court hearing for temporary orders was set for the end of the week.
Helen kept posting.
Every day.
Sometimes with Daniel.
Sometimes with Isla.
Always the same story.
Sophia was unstable.
Sophia was keeping the baby from her father.
Sophia was being cruel.
I didn’t respond.
I let my lawyer handle everything.
On the day of the hearing, I wore a simple black dress that hid my belly as much as possible.
I didn’t want sympathy.
I wanted clarity.
Daniel sat across from me with his lawyer.
Isla was not in the courtroom.
Helen was in the back row, recording on her phone until the bailiff made her stop.
My lawyer presented the evidence.
The DNA results.
The PI letter Daniel had written about Isla.
The photos of Isla in my bed.
The timeline of their affair.
Daniel’s lawyer tried to argue that it was a misunderstanding.
That Daniel had been confused.
That Isla had manipulated him.
The judge didn’t look impressed.
When it was my turn to speak, I kept my voice steady.
“I am six months pregnant with a daughter I have wanted for years. My husband brought his ex-girlfriend into our home and pretended she was his sister so they could carry on an affair under my roof. They planned it. They executed it while I was vulnerable. I will not raise my child around either of them.”
The judge nodded once.
Then he ruled.
Temporary full custody to me.
Daniel was granted supervised visitation only after the baby was born, and only if he passed a psychological evaluation.
A gag order was placed on both Daniel and Isla.
No more social media posts.
No more public statements.
Helen was warned that if she continued, she would face charges for harassment.
After the hearing, Daniel tried to approach me in the hallway.
My father stepped between us.
“Stay away from my daughter,” he said quietly.
Daniel looked past him at me.
“Sophia, please. I made a mistake. I love you. I love our baby.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I walked away.
That night I sat in the nursery again.
The crib was finished.
I had hung the curtains.
Folded the tiny clothes.
Everything was ready.
Except I wasn’t.
I was terrified.
Not of Daniel.
Not of Isla.
But of doing this alone.
Of raising a daughter without a father who wanted her.
Of the baby growing up and asking questions I didn’t want to answer.
I placed both hands on my belly.
“You’re going to have questions one day,” I said softly. “And I’m going to tell you the truth. But I’m also going to make sure you never feel the way I felt when I walked into that bedroom. You will always know you were wanted. You will always know you were fought for.”
The baby kicked hard against my hand.
I smiled.
My father came over later that evening.
He brought dinner and sat with me at the kitchen table.
“The Langford acquisition is moving forward,” he said. “Daniel tried to insert himself into the negotiations last week using his husband status. We shut it down.”
I wasn’t surprised.
Of course he had tried.
“How much does he know?” I asked.
“Not enough. He thinks we have a small stake. He has no idea you control the majority through the trusts your mother set up.”
I nodded.
Good.
That was one more thing he couldn’t touch.
My father looked at me carefully.
“Are you okay, Sophia?”
I thought about it.
The honest answer was no.
But I was getting there.
“I will be,” I said. “Once the divorce is final. Once the baby is here. Once this is all behind us.”
He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“You’re not alone in this.”
I squeezed back.
“I know.”
That night I couldn’t sleep again.
I walked through the dark house, one hand on the wall, the other on my belly.
Every room felt different now.
Cleaner.
Safer.
But also emptier.
I stopped in the master bedroom.
The bed was new.
The sheets were new.
The nightstand was empty.
No more wedding ring.
No more Isla.
I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the ultrasound picture I kept on the dresser.
My daughter.
My reason for everything.
Daniel and Isla had tried to take this from me.
They failed.
But they weren’t done.
I could feel it.
Helen was still out there.
Daniel was still fighting.
Isla was still smiling somewhere, even if I couldn’t see it.
They thought they could wear me down.
They thought the pregnant woman would eventually break.
They were wrong.
I stood up and walked to the window.
The street was quiet.
No cars.
No threats.
Just night.
I placed both hands on my stomach.
“We’re going to win this,” I whispered to my daughter. “All of it. The divorce. The company. Our future. You and me. Together.”
The baby moved again.
Strong.
Steady.
Like she believed me.
I went back to bed and finally slept.
Because I wasn’t fighting for myself anymore.
May you like
I was fighting for her.
And I would not lose.
