The day started with a kind of muted dread that sat heavy in Aria's chest.
There was no pretending anymore, no breathing room left. Court dates were real now. Scheduled. A little over two weeks away.
Aria sat at the kitchen table, a legal pad full of bullet points in front of her. Notes are scribbled in every margin. Questions to ask the lawyer. Things she couldn't forget. Her tea had gone cold an hour ago.
Elias was pacing the living room, phone pressed to his ear.
"No. Thursday doesn't work," he said tightly. "We need the paperwork by tomorrow at the latest. No exceptions."
Aria watched him with a kind of numb detachment. He was still here. He was still fighting. That should have comforted her. And it did. It also terrified her.
Because if they lost... she wouldn't be the only one hurt. Eli would be caught in the fallout.
"Who was that?" she asked when he finally hung up.
"Our lawyer. Trying to rush the subpoena for Nadine's testimony." Elias ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. "He thinks the judge is going to allow it, but we need her official statement in writing."
Aria exhaled slowly. "Nadine said she would help."
"She did. But family court is messy. They could try to discredit her."
Aria rubbed her temples. "Great."
He sat down across from her. There was a pause.
"You slept, right?" Elias asked, voice softer.
"Barely."
"Me neither." He glanced at her pad. "What's all that?"
"Everything I'm scared they'll ask."
He leaned in a little, curious. She handed him the pad reluctantly.
He read aloud:
- History of depression?
- Was Eli planned?
- Financial stability?
- Relationship with Elias?
- Home environment?
- Support system?
Elias set the pad down carefully. "They're going to come at you hard."
"I know." Her hands were trembling slightly. She clenched them in her lap.
"We'll be ready."
Aria stared at him. "Will we? I feel like we're walking into a gunfight with a slingshot."
He gave a small, dry laugh. "Then we aim for their eyes."
For a second, a grin threatened to break through the anxiety in her chest. But it faded just as quickly.
"Did you hear from your mom?" Aria asked.
Elias's jaw tightened. "Yeah. She's... not thrilled about testifying. She keeps saying she 'doesn't want to take sides.'"
"She needs to take a side," Aria snapped, surprising herself with the heat in her voice.
"She will," Elias said quickly. "She just needs time to realize there is no neutral ground anymore."
Aria pushed back her chair and stood up, too full of restless energy to sit still. "We don't have time. Every second counts. You know what they're going to say about me, right? That I'm unstable. That I'm vindictive. That I alienated you."
Elias stood too, facing her. "And we'll prove otherwise."
"How?" Her voice cracked. "I'm scared, Elias. And I'm tired. And I don't know if trying is enough."
He stepped closer but didn't touch her. His eyes burned into hers, steady, grounding.
"Trying is enough. It's all we have."
By mid-morning, their lawyer, Mr. Hutchins, called for an emergency meeting at his office.
Aria sat stiffly in the too-cold conference room, hands folded neatly in front of her, pretending she wasn't vibrating with nerves. Elias sat beside her, shoulders squared like he was going to war.
Mr. Hutchins was a man in his sixties with a rumpled suit and sharp eyes that missed nothing.
"Okay," he said without preamble. "We have a few problems."
"Fantastic," Elias muttered under his breath.
Aria elbowed him sharply.
Hutchins smirked briefly, then sobered. "First issue: opposing counsel filed a motion to request temporary custody during the proceedings."
Aria's stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"
"It means if the judge agrees, they could remove Eli from your care temporarily until the case concludes."
"No," Aria said instantly. "No way. That's not happening."
Elias's hand brushed lightly against hers under the table — not grabbing, not forcing, just there. Solid.
Hutchins continued. "It's a scare tactic, mainly. They know it's unlikely to pass unless they have hard evidence of neglect or danger, which they don't. But it's meant to rattle you."
"Well, congratulations, it's working," Aria said, voice shaking.
"We'll fight it," Hutchins said calmly. "But it means we have to tighten everything up. No mistakes. No emotional outbursts. No missed appointments. No second-guessing."
"Understood," Elias said.
Aria nodded, though the inside of her was pure chaos.
"And second," Hutchins added, flipping through his notes, "they're digging into your employment history, Aria. Trying to paint you as financially unstable."
"I have a job," she said quickly.
"You do now," Hutchins said. "But they're highlighting gaps. Times you were freelancing. Times you were between contracts. Times when you were primarily parenting."
"So what? Being a full-time mom is now a crime?"
"In family court?" Hutchins shrugged. "Sometimes."
Aria swallowed down her fury.
"Bottom line," Hutchins said. "We fight this smart. You show stability. Reliability. You show that Eli's best interest is with you."
He looked between the two of them.
"And you two," he added, "need to get your story straight. Unified. No mixed signals. No contradictory testimonies."
Aria and Elias exchanged a long look.
"We're on the same page," Elias said firmly.
Aria hoped to God he was right.
Later that afternoon, back at home, Aria sat on the porch steps, Eli playing in the yard with his action figures, unaware of the war brewing just beyond his line of sight.
Elias lowered himself onto the step next to her with a groan.
"We're going to need character witnesses," he said.
Aria hugged her knees to her chest. "Nadine. Your mom. Maybe my sister, if I beg."
"She'll help," Elias said. "She's just... wary."
"So is everyone."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching Eli fly Thunder across the grass, sound effects included.
"I hate this," Aria said finally, voice raw.
"I know."
"I hate that he has to be part of this."
"He won't be in the courtroom," Elias said quickly. "He won't hear the ugly stuff. We'll protect him from it."
"I don't even know if that's possible."
Elias was quiet for a long time.
Then he said, almost too softly, "I'm not just fighting for custody, you know."
Aria turned her head to look at him.
"I'm fighting for us, too. For the chance to be better than we were."
Tears pricked at her eyes. She blinked them back furiously.
"I don't know if I'm strong enough for this," she whispered.
"You are," he said simply. "You always have been."
That night, after Eli was asleep, the real preparation began.
They sat at the kitchen table with stacks of papers — financial records, medical files, school reports. Every piece of their lives is laid bare and judged.
Aria rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. "This feels... invasive."
"It is," Elias said grimly. "Family court doesn't care about privacy."
They practiced answering questions — rapid-fire drills.
"Why do you think you're the better custodial parent?"
"Describe your daily routine with Eli."
"How do you handle discipline?"
"What are your long-term plans for Eli's schooling?"
Elias threw every hardball he could think of.
Aria answered as best she could, stumbling, getting frustrated, snapping once or twice.
"Sorry," she muttered after one particularly sharp exchange.
"Don't apologize," Elias said. "Better to get mad at me now than fall apart on the stand."
She nodded, exhausted.
By midnight, they were both slumped over the table, barely able to keep their eyes open.
Elias nudged her foot under the table. "Hey."
"What?"
"We're going to win this."
"You don't know that."
"No. But I believe it."
She stared at him.
And for the first time all day, she believed it too.
Just a little.