Page 78 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

Sheila pats Constance on the shoulder as Constance returns to her seat. “We rest our case, Your Honor.”

He nods, then turns to Sam. “Are you ready to call your first witness, Counselor?”

“Actually—”

“Yes.” Pushing back my chair, I stand.

Murmurs from the audience create a kind of white noise behind me. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but the noise feels frenzied.

And yet, everything in me has stilled. I am calm. I know what I need to do.

Take a risk for love, son…

“What are you doing?” Sam hisses at me.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I have to do this.”

“Even if it costs you everything?”

I glance back at my mom, and she pats her chest—right over her heart—as she nods.

“I’ll always wonder if I should have testified.”

“Counselor, is there a problem?” the judge asks.

“No problem, Your Honor.” Sam looks at me and rubs the corner of his eyes, sighing. “We call Jordan Carmichael to the stand.”

I make my way to the witness stand, shaking out my hands before the bailiff brings a Bible over and swears me in. When I’m done saying the words, the door to the courtroom opens.

And sunshine plows right in.

Marilee steps through the door, her hair windswept and her skirt crooked. She’s got something—maybe a paper?—clutched in her hand and looks right at me, wide-eyed, mouthing “Sorry” before stepping aside.

Revealing my father behind her.

Dressed in a suit that barely buttons, his thin wisps of hair combed over his otherwise bald head, he shuffles inside, toward my mother, whose hands are over her mouth.

Marilee scoots past Lucy and Blake, who squeezes her arm, to join my parents. She grips the low wall in front of her, where she’s set the piece of paper that was in her hand upon entry. Her earnest look is a balm. No matter what’s between us, she’s here—and she brought the one person I never thought would show up for me. If that’s not having my back, I don’t know what is.

And it gives me the extra bolstering I need.

Sam approaches the stand. “Jordan, please tell the court in your own words why you believe the Comers’ petition—and their classification of you as violent and a liar—to be false.”

Instead of looking at Marilee, I turn my attention to the judge, the one who will decide our fate. And I do what Mom suggested and speak from my heart. I explain the video. I know sharing the details of her ex with the court will be painful for Marilee, but I also know she won’t mind, not if it helps us keep Ryder.

“And what about the marriage, Jordan? Was it indeed fake, as Ms. Devoney so disparagingly put it?”

Now forthis, I look at Marilee. But she’s not looking at me. Her gaze is on her shoes until I speak my next words.

“Not for me, it wasn’t.”

At that, her head snaps up, eyebrows knit together.

“Can you expand on that, please?” Sam asks. I’m sure on the inside, he’s annoyed with me—I’m definitely going off script here—but he’s maintaining a patient facade at least.

“I’ve always loved Marilee. Since the first moment I saw her, I knew I’d always love her.”

Her chin trembles, and her friends issue a low murmuring chorus of “Awww!”

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