Mom, Don't Cry! Here comes a new Daddy! novel Chapter 62

Chapter 43

(Sabrina’s POV)

The courtroom doors swing shut behind me, and I barely make it three steps before my legs threaten to give out. The marble floor of the courthouse hallway stretches endlessly in both directions, cold and unforgiving under the fluorescent lights.

“Sabrina.”

Ethan’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. I spin around to face him, my heart hammering

against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.

“When?” The word comes out sharper than I intend. “When did you and Jake plan this?”

Ethan’s expression softens. He takes a step closer, his expensive shoes clicking against the floor.

“Two days ago.”

“Two days.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “So while I was freaking out about losing his custody,

back?” my son was secretly coordinating with you behind my

“He contacted me, Sabrina. Not the other way around.”

“He’s five years old! He shouldn’t even have your number!”

“He got it from Sophia.” Ethan takes a step closer, and I force myself not to back away. “And before you blame her too, Jake was very persuasive. He told her he needed to make things right.”

My throat tightens. “Make what right?”

“Everything. The videos, your anger at Sophia, this whole custody mess. Your son is a lot more perceptive than you realize.” His tone is gentle, almost apologetic. “He sensed something was off with you the past few days and contacted me in secret.”

My breath catches. Jake. My sweet, observant Jake.

“He knew you wouldn’t be happy to see him get involved in adult matters,” Ethan continues, running a hand through his hair. “So he requested me to be his representative. He sent me here not only to protect you from getting bullied by his dad and his new lady, but to also help him speak with the judge. He wanted to come clean about his doings and tell her himself that he wants to live with

you, not with his dad.”

The tears come before I can stop them. Hot and fast, spilling down my cheeks like a dam breaking. I press my palm against my mouth, trying to hold back the sob threatening to tear free from my chest.

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Chapter 43

Clay

All this time, I thought I was protecting Jake. Shielding him from the ugliness of divorce and betrayal and courtroom battles. But he was protecting me. My five-year-old son was protecting

“He’s just a child,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “He shouldn’t have to…”

The bailiff opens the courtroom doors, announcing the end of the recess. I swipe at my tears with the back of my hand, probably smearing my mascara everywhere, but I don’t care anymore. Nothing about today has gone according to plan anyway.

My stomach twists into knots as we file back inside.

The air feels thicker now, charged with tension. Sophia reaches for my hand as I pass, squeezing so hard my fingers ache. Richard gives me a nod that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Across the aisle, Dustin sits rigid in his chair, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping.

Jessica whispers something urgent in his ear, but he doesn’t respond. Just stares straight ahead

like he’s preparing for war.

“All rise.”

We stand as Judge Whitmore enters. She moves with deliberate slowness, arranging papers on her desk with precise movements. Each second stretches into eternity.

“Please be seated.”

The scrape of chairs sounds deafening in the silence.

Judge Whitmore looks up, her eyes sweeping across both sides of the courtroom. When she

speaks, her voice carries a weight that makes my stomach drop.

“I’ve reviewed all evidence presented today. The testimony from both parents. The character witnesses. The financial records. And most importantly, the statement from Jake Reed himself.”

My hands clench in my lap.

“Custody cases are never simple,” the judge continues. “Both parents typically believe they’re acting in their child’s best interest. But believing and demonstrating are two different things entirely.”

She turns to Dustin. “Mr. Reed, you’ve presented yourself as a financially stable father with the means to provide for your son. And I don’t doubt that you love Jake in your own way. But love without presence is nothing more than empty words.”

Dustin’s face flushes red.

“The evidence shows a clear pattern of absence. Zero parent-teacher conferences in the past year.

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Chapter 43

Zero medical appointments in two years. Missed school events, soccer games, art shows. All the small moments that make up a child’s life.” Judge Whitmore’s voice sharpens. “And when asked to recall the last time you told your son you loved him, you couldn’t provide a single specific instance.”

“Your Honor, if I may-” Tom Patterson starts to rise.

“You may not.” The judge’s words cut like a blade. “I’m not finished.”

Tom sinks back down.

Judge Whitmore turns to me, and my heart stutters.

“Ms. Moore, you’re not perfect either. The cruise situation was poorly handled. The social media exposure was problematic. And your housing instability is a concern.”

My stomach drops.

“However.” The judge’s voice sharpens. “You’ve also demonstrated consistent, devoted parenting. You’ve been present for every significant moment in Jake’s life. You’ve prioritized his needs even when your own life was falling apart. And most tellingly, your son spoke about you with a love and loyalty that can’t be faked.”

Tears stream down my face.

“Furthermore, the testimony and evidence revealed that Mr. Reed engaged in an extramarital affair with his supervisor, Ms. Jessica Morgan. He then used his position and connection to have you terminated from your employment in retaliation for refusing to surrender custody quietly.” Judge Whitmore’s expression hardens. “These actions demonstrate a pattern of manipulation and abuse of power that this court finds deeply troubling.”

Dustin leans over, whispering frantically to his lawyer. Tom waves him off with a sharp gesture.

“Therefore, after careful consideration of all factors, this court awards full physical and legal custody of Jake Reed to his mother, Sabrina Moore.”

The words don’t register at first. They bounce off my brain like they’re in a foreign language.

Full custody.

“Additionally,” Judge Whitmore continues, her voice carrying a note of steel, “Mr. Reed will not be

granted any visitation rights at this time.”

“What?” Dustin explodes from his chair. “You can’t do that! He’s my son!”

“Mr. Reed, sit down immediately or I will hold you in contempt of court.”

Tom grabs Dustin’s arm, physically forcing him back into his seat. Dustin’s face is purple now, veins

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