Page 81 of The Dating Coach
"Right," she agreed. "No more self-sabotage. No more noble sacrifices. Just us."
"Just us," I echoed, and sealed it with a kiss that promised forever.
In the morning, Mia would find us at the kitchen table sharing coffee from the same mug. Her delighted squeal would wake half the building. Karen would claim credit for the reunion. Frank and Henry would arrive with celebration breakfast.
But for now, in the quiet aftermath of a championship and a reconciliation, we held each other and chose love over fear.
Chapter 35: Gemma
"Motion to dismiss granted. This case is closed."
The judge's words echoed through the courtroom, final and absolute. My parents sat at their table, faces twisted with fury as their lawyer shuffled papers with obvious embarrassment. Months of legal threats, harassment, and attempted control had just crumbled under the weight of their own frivolity.
Liam's hand found mine under the defendant's table, squeezing gently. He'd been beside me through every deposition, every meeting, every moment when their vitriol threatened to break me down.
"We're done here," our lawyer said quietly, gathering his files with satisfaction. "They have no more moves to make."
My parents stood to leave, but not without one last show. My father's voice carried across the courtroom: "You've corrupted everything pure in our family. Both of you. Abominations."
"Your definition of pure was always poison," I said, standing as well. My voice came out steady, stronger than I felt. "We're happy. Mia's thriving. I'm in medical school. All without your conditional love."
"You're going to hell," my mother spat. "Both of you. Living in sin, promoting perversion—"
"Actually, we're going to Montreal," Liam interrupted calmly. "Gemma got into McGill University's medical program, I'll be playing hockey while studying architecture at McGill, andMia's joining Pinewood this year. We're building a life filled with love and acceptance. Your hell holds no power over us."
The simple recitation of our plans – delivered without anger or defensiveness – seemed to deflate them. They left with more muttered condemnations, but the words felt empty. They'd lost their power to wound.
Outside the courthouse, Mia waited on the steps with Karen and our aunt and uncle. The moment she saw my face, she launched herself at us.
"It's over?" she asked breathlessly. "Really over?"
"Really over," I confirmed, hugging her tightly. "They can't touch us anymore. Any of us."
"Good," Aunt Penelope said firmly. "Now we can focus on the future instead of fighting the past."
That evening, we celebrated at the hockey house one last time before Liam and I pack up for Montreal—where we’ll both begin our studies at McGill University. It felt surreal that just a few months ago, Liam, Karen, Frank, Henry, and I had all graduated together from Pinewood University, and now we were about to scatter. Frank had outdone himself with a farewell feast, Henry’s speeches had us all in tears, and the family we’d built wrapped us in a love our biological parents never could have provided.
"I'm going to miss this," I admitted to Liam as we stood on the back deck, watching our friends through the window. "Not the drama or the crisis management, but this. Them."
"Montreal's not that far," he reminded me, arms wrapping around me from behind. "And Frank's already planning road trips. Karen and Henry are looking at graduateprograms there. Mia will visit constantly. We're not losing them, just expanding the geography."
"When did you become the optimistic one?" I teased, leaning back into his warmth.
"When you stopped assuming everything would end in disaster," he replied. "We balance each other."
"We do," I agreed, turning in his arms. "Thank you. For standing by me through the lawsuit. For not letting me push you away again. For choosing us even when I made it hard."
"Always," he said simply. "Though maybe no more major relationship decisions based on fear?"
"I'm in therapy," I reminded him. "Working on it. Dr. Maya says my martyr complex is improving."
"Good. I prefer you happy and selfish over miserable and noble."
"I'm not selfish," I protested.
"You accepted my help with lawyer fees," he pointed out. "Three weeks ago, you would have insisted on handling it alone."
He was right. Learning to share burdens instead of carrying them alone had been harder than any chemistry exam. But Liam had been patient, gentle, insistent that partnership meant facing challenges together.
