Page 65 of Forbidden Dreams

He opens the car door for me. “You’ve got this. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” My eyes get so dry they sting. “Get in before we’re late.”

I nod, not saying anything as I buckle myself in and put my hand on my lap, which is then pulled onto his lap as he drives us to the courthouse.

We park, and I look around for a second before he puts his hand on the lower part of my back and ushers me inside. I’m expecting to be met by Ryleigh. Who I’m not expecting to be met by is Mr. Thatcher, who is dressed almost like his son, with Autumn beside him smiling over at me. Charlie is behind her, his face like stone, and I know he’s just worried for Autumn, but he also hates Winston.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, and I shake my head at my own stupid question.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t be here?” Mr. Thatcher questions, putting his arm around Autumn. “But did you bring me cake?” He smiles at me, making me laugh, and a tear escapes the corner of my eye.

“No, but I made a carrot cinnamon cake this morning with cream cheese frosting drizzle for after.” I smile at him.

“Mine.” Autumn holds up her hand.

“Okay, are you ready?” Ryleigh asks. The door opens, and I turn my head, shocked again when Casey strolls in with Ryleigh’s uncles, Matthew and Max. All three of them are in suits without the tie, and they look like Magic Mike dancers, but then also a security detail for the stars. “We should head in there.” She motions with her head. “I’m so excited for this,” she chirps with glee in her voice as if we’re going to Disneyland and not facing off with my in-laws in court.

I walk with her side by side. Everyone else follows me, even saying that I’m shocked. Every other time we’ve been in court, it’s always been me alone, and now my side is full. We walk down the aisle to the front of the room, stepping over to the left table that sits in front of the judge’s bench. The table on the right side is still empty because the Cartwrights need an entrance.

I sit down in the chair as Ryleigh takes her things out of her bag and places everything the way she wants. My leg moves up and down with nerves when we hear the door open. Even though I tell myself I’m not going to look, I do and see their lawyer walking in with Winston, who is dressed like he’s going golfing in khaki pants and a white shirt with a dinner jacket. His sneer falls on Brady, who is between his father and Charlie, something I think they all planned. Brady looks up at the ceiling, and I can see his jaw getting tight and his hands going into fists on his legs.

Winston sits with his attorney at their table with his parents behind him. Both of them sit there as if they have a leg to stand on. I look down at my own table when the bailiff tells us all to stand for the judge. I stand beside Ryleigh, who doesn’t give Winston the time he deserves even though he’s glared at her since he walked in. The judge walks out with her short brown hair perfectly styled, wearing her black robe with a little white lace collar as she walks to her bench and nods at her bailiff.

“You may be seated,” the judge states, sitting down and looking at the docket in front of her. “This is the case of Cartwright versus Cartwright.”

“That’s my name,” Winston mumbles. “She’s no Cartwright.” The judge looks up from her papers at him before she continues.

“In the case for custody and also child support,” she reads aloud.

“Child support,” Winston again mumbles as he leans back in his chair and adjusts his jacket as if he’s not sitting in a court of law but instead at a family dinner on a Sunday.

“Mr. Cartwright,” the judge says his name. “I ignored the first time you spoke out of turn; I’m not going to tolerate you speaking out.” She looks at the lawyer. “Contain him or I’ll find you in contempt.”

The lawyer nods and leans over and whispers something to Winston, and then of course looks over his shoulder toward the Cartwrights. I’m expecting them to give him a treat for doing his job. I roll my eyes as I turn my head to the other side. “Mrs. Richards,” the judge calls her name, “you may open.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” She gets up and smiles at the judge. “My client has been in court four times before to get her marriage dissolved and to settle custody for Wyatt Cartwright. We’re seeking full custody with supervised visitation,” she announces, and I can feel my face heat from the hatred the Cartwrights are throwing my way, “along with alimony and child support.”

“Your Honor.” Winston’s lawyer jumps out of his chair.

“We don’t even know if the child is his,” he retorts. I put my hands on the desk, and I’m about to jump out of my seat.

“That kid is not mine,” Winston snarls. “I felt sorry for her and claimed the kid.” I swear I can hear the gasps coming from behind me, along with some growling.

My head just hangs down. Never, and I mean never, in a million years did I think he would do this. I mean, I guess I should have expected it. “Your Honor.” Ryleigh laughs. “If Mr. Cartwright needs for us to have a DNA test to prove he is the father of Wyatt, we are more than happy to do it.” She looks over at him. “It’s just wasting everyone’s time.”

The judge looks over at Winston. “Mr. Cartwright,” she says, “I’m going to go on the record and tell you, I’m not a patient woman. I also don’t have patience for fathers who don’t step up to the plate and claim their responsibility.” She taps the pen on her desk. “But if you are telling me this is not your child, and I order a paternity test, and it comes back that it is your child and you are wasting everyone’s time, I am not going to be happy.”

“Your Honor,” Winston’s attorney says, “if I could have a moment with my client.”

The judge looks at him. “Mr. Belfast, from my records, you’ve had six months to talk to your client and now you need another minute.” She shakes her head as Mr. Belfast looks like his jaw is going to snap tight, as he looks over his shoulder and is greeted with equal glares. “Five-minute recess,” she calls, “and make note, this is the last one you’ll get. This has gone on long enough.” She picks up her gavel and slaps it back down as the bailiff tells us to stand.

All I can do is look down at the table as the tears fall, and I hate they have done this to me. I hate they get to see I’ve shed tears for them because they don’t deserve it. It’s one thing for them not to want me, but for him to actually say Wyatt isn’t his. My heart hurts for my son, because he doesn’t deserve this. I can’t even look back over my shoulder at Brady’s family. The minute the judge is in her chambers, I feel myself turned and his arms go around me. “He’s a fucking idiot,” he whispers, and all I can do is wrap my arms around him and just stay in his arms. I turn my face to see Mr. Belfast talking to Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, his face looking like it’s going to explode, while Winston stands with his hands on his hips. All I can do is try not to fall apart in front of them. “It’s all going to be good,” he assures me, and I look up at him, “no matter what.”

“Okay, Brady,” I reply as the door opens, and I hear the bailiff speak. “I love you,” I whisper to him as I turn back around and stand next to Ryleigh.

“Ready to rock and roll.” She looks at me, winking. “We’ve got this.”

CHAPTER 37

Brady

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