Chapter 143

Chapter 143

Evelyn's POV

The courthouse was behind them now, at least till the next sitting. The murmurs, the stares, the sharp scrape of polished shoes against marble floors, the way every breath inside that room felt measured and watched—it all faded the moment Carmen shut the door and leaned her full weight against it.

“Jesus Christ,” Carmen muttered. “If I had to sit in that courtroom for one more second, I would’ve flipped a table.”

Evelyn let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. It came out shaky, uneven, like her lungs were relearning how to work. She carefully adjusted Jayden in her arms, pressing a kiss into his soft hair. He was asleep, completely unaware that his name had echoed through a courtroom again, that his existence had become the center of something ugly and loud and far too adult for a child who still smelled like milk and powder.

“At least the outcome of the sitting was nice,” Carmen added, pushing off the door and toeing off her heels. “Because if Vanessa had opened her mouth again, I would’ve lost it. Court decorum be damned.”

That earned a weak smile from Evelyn, Carmen glanced at her, really looked at her then. “Hey,” she said more gently. “You okay?”

Evelyn nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel… lighter, and heavier. Both.”

“That means you survived,” Carmen said. “And you’re still standing.”
She crossed the room and flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Which, by the way, is more than I can say for Vanessa’s carefully curated plan. Did you see her face when the judge started asking those questions?”

Evelyn had seen it—the way Vanessa’s poise had tightened instead of relaxed. The way her confidence had become brittle, like glass stretched too thin.

“I always knew there was something off about her,” Carmen continued, unapologetic now. “Always, from the moment I observed that she's a con artist, always wanting to be on the screen. I never liked her.”

Evelyn sank onto the armchair opposite the couch, carefully settling Jayden into his portable bassinet beside her. She tucked a blanket around him before finally leaning back. “I didn’t want to believe it,” she said quietly. “Even when things started going wrong, I kept thinking… maybe it’s just me. Maybe I misunderstood.”

“That’s what people like her rely on,” Carmen snapped. “They make you doubt your own instincts.”

A knock sounded at the door before Evelyn could respond.

Carmen frowned. “If that’s another delivery, I swear—”
She stood, peered through the peephole, then her expression shifted. “Oh.”

The door opened wide, Gregory Blackwood stood in the entrance, cane in one hand, a medium-sized bag in the other, his expression calm but warm. He looked out of place in the modest apartment, not because he didn’t belong, but because he carried an air of quiet authority that made every space feel more intentional.

“There’s my favorite people,” he said, stepping inside.

Evelyn rose immediately. “Mr. Blackwood—”

Gregory waved a hand. “Let’s not do that, it's Gregory,” he corrected gently. “I’ve told you severally, stop pulling my legs.”

He moved toward Jayden first, as he always did, peering into the bassinet with an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “There he is,” he murmured. “Growing every time I see him.”

“He’s been eating more,” Evelyn said. “I think he’s about to hit a growth spurt.”

Gregory chuckled. “That’s my family’s curse. We grow fast and eat like we’re preparing for winter.”

Carmen took the bag from him. “You didn’t have to bring all this.”

“I wanted to,” Gregory replied. “Diapers, formulas, wipes. The good kind, before you argue.”

She huffed. “I wasn’t going to argue.”

“Yes, you were.”

Reed chose that moment to stroll in from the balcony, phone in hand, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. “If anyone’s wondering,” he announced, “the neighbors are officially invested in this saga. I heard someone say ‘that poor girl’ and I’m choosing to take that as a win.”

“Reed,” Carmen said sweetly, “don’t get comfortable.”

He grinned and dropped beside her anyway, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Too late.”

Evelyn watched them with a strange mix of gratitude and disbelief. This—this was her support system now, not marble halls or guarded smiles, not contracts or controlled conversations. This was messy and loud and real, and they're her family, her support system, her tribe.

Gregory turned toward her. “How are you holding up, Evelyn?”

She considered the question honestly. “Better than I expected,” she said. “Still scared. But, I feel like the truth is finally catching up.”

“That’s because it is,” Reed said. “Slowly, but it is.”

Gregory nodded. “The court is beginning to ask the right questions. And when that happens, lies don’t go well.”

Evelyn’s fingers tightened briefly in her lap. “Damian looked… different today.”

Everyone stilled slightly.
“Different how?” Gregory asked carefully.
“Quieter,” she said. “Not angry. Just… focused.”

Gregory sighed. “Guilt is a stubborn thing. It settles in when pride finally runs out of places to hide.”

Reed added, more softly, “He’s starting to realize the cost.”

Evelyn didn’t respond right away. She glanced at Jayden instead, watching his chest rise and fall, steady and peaceful.
“I don’t hate him,” she said eventually. “I think that surprised me.”

Carmen scoffed. “You’re a better woman than me.”

Evelyn smiled faintly. “I just don’t want this to own me forever, I want to be free when it’s over. For him.”

Gregory reached out, resting his hand gently on her shoulder. “You will be.”

Reed stretched, then glanced at Carmen with a grin. “So, since we survived another day without committing a felony in open court, I vote we celebrate.”

“With what?” Carmen asked.

“Takeout,” he said. “On me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Absolutely.”

She smirked. “Then yes.”

As the room filled with casual conversation—arguments over food, Reed teasing Carmen until she swatted him, Gregory quietly rocking the bassinet when Jayden stirred—Evelyn felt something settle in her chest.

She felt relief, for the first time since everything had begun to unravel, she allowed herself to believe that the chaos had an end. That one day, this would be a story she told from a distance, that she
and her son would walk away from this whole. She looked at everyone in the room, and she felt blessed