Page 62 of Love on the Edge
He presses a button. Screenshots of Margo’s affairs flash across the screen. Hotel receipts, messages, photos of her with multiple men—some before she even left for tour.
Gasps ripple through the courtroom.
Ryan turns to the judge.
"Mrs. Crosse didn’t leave to chase a dream. She left because she had already checked out of this marriage. And her own words, her own actions, prove she never planned to come back for her daughter."
He lets the silence settle before delivering the final blow. "My client isn’t the one who alienated Cassidy from her mother. Margo Crosse did that all on her own."
The judge leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. The weight of everything just presented sits heavy in the room.
After a long pause, he exhales. "I’ve heard enough."
Margo straightens, eyes widening. Callum leans in, whispering furiously, but she barely hears him.
The judge clears his throat. "This court rules in favor of Ethan Crosse. Full sole legal and physical custody is granted to the father."
Margo stiffens.
"Furthermore, visitation rights are revoked at this time. Before any future considerations, Mrs. Crosse must undergo psychological evaluation and complete extensive parenting courses."
Margo’s body snaps upright. "What?" She bolts to her feet, eyes flashing. "You can’t do this!"
The judge remains unmoved. "This ruling is final."
Margo’s breaths come sharp and fast. Then—she erupts. "You’re stealing my daughter!" she screams, whipping toward Ethan. "You did this! You turned her against me!"
Ryan exhales sharply. "No, Margo. You did this to yourself."
Margo turns to the judge. "This isn’t fair! I’m her mother!"
The judge doesn’t blink. "Then you should have acted like one."
We all rise.
Margo bolts from the courtroom, her heels clicking against the polished floors, her movements sharp, frantic, like she can outrun the reality of what just happened.
She can’t.
Callum lingers for a moment, already reaching for his phone, already shifting into damage control. But before he leaves, he turns to Ryan, his expression unreadable.
“I’ll get her to sign the papers. Don’t worry.” He exhales, rubbing his jaw. “Beer later?”
Ryan smirks, shaking his hand. “You got it.”
The second the doors open, the second I step into the hallway, my focus zeroes in on the only thing that does matter.
Valeria.
She’s standing just ahead, watching me, waiting, her presence grounding me, steadying me, pulling me in like a gravitational force I never had a chance against.
I don’t hesitate. I don’t think.
I go straight to her, closing the space between us in three strides, and then she’s in my arms.
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away. She presses into me, solid, real, mine.
I cup her face, tilt her chin up, and kiss her—deep, certain, claiming.
