Cooper's attorney fumbles, clearly unprepared for such direct challenge. "We have no specific evidence of impropriety during that time, Your Honor."
"Then I'll disregard that line of argument," Judge Matthews says firmly. "Continue."
The remainder of Cooper's testimony focuses on portraying himself as the victim of Riley's supposed instability. He claims the bruises on her wrist were the result of him restraining her during an "episode" where she attacked him. Claims his presence on my property was an attempt to check on her welfare after "concerning" messages from mutual friends.
Each lie makes my blood boil hotter, but I maintain my composure, focusing on Riley's straight back, her calmdemeanor, the strength she's displaying despite the venom being spewed about her.
When all testimony has been presented, Judge Matthews calls a brief recess to review the evidence before delivering her decision. The tension in the courtroom is palpable as we wait. Riley rejoins me in the spectator section, her hand finding mine in silent communion.
"You did great," I murmur, squeezing her fingers gently. "She saw right through him."
"I hope so," Riley replies, uncertainty clouding her voice. "He's always been good at making people believe his version of events."
"Not this time," I assure her with more confidence than I truly feel. "Not here, where his father's influence doesn't reach."
Twenty minutes later, Judge Matthews returns. The courtroom falls silent as she settles back at the bench, arranging papers before looking up with an expression that gives nothing away.
"Having reviewed all evidence and testimony presented today, I'm ready to render my decision." Her voice carries clear authority throughout the room. "In the matter of Hart versus Cooper, regarding the petition for a restraining order, I find in favor of the petitioner, Ms. Hart."
Relief crashes through me so intensely that I nearly jump out of my seat. Riley's hand tightens in mine, her body rigid with shock and mounting joy.
"Mr. Cooper," Judge Matthews continues, her stern gaze fixed on Brad, "you are hereby ordered to maintain a distance of no less than five hundred feet from Ms. Hart at all times. You are prohibited from contacting her through any means, including third parties. You are to surrender any firearms in your possession to the Grizzly Ridge Sheriff's Department within 48 hours."
Cooper's face flushes with rage, his attorney placing a restraining hand on his arm as he begins to rise from his seat.
"Furthermore," the judge adds, "given the evidence presented regarding Mr. Cooper's trespassing on Mr. McKenna's property with firearms, I am referring this matter to the district attorney's office for potential criminal charges. This restraining order will remain in effect for three years, at which time Ms. Hart may petition for renewal if necessary."
The gavel comes down with finality, sealing the decision. Around us, Riley's supporters break into muted cheers and congratulations. Rebecca turns to shake Riley's hand, her professional composure breaking into a genuine smile.
But I focus solely on Riley, watching as the realization of victory washes over her. Tears fill her eyes, not of fear or pain but of overwhelming relief. Three years of protection. Three years without Cooper's legal harassment. Three years to build a life without looking over her shoulder constantly.
"It's over," she whispers, turning to me with wonder in her expression. "We won."
"You won," I correct, cupping her face in my hands. "Your courage. Your strength. Your truth."
She leans into my touch, uncaring of the eyes watching us. "Our truth," she counters softly. "I couldn't have done this alone."
The simple acknowledgment of our partnership, of the strength we've found together, fills me with fierce pride. This woman, who's been through hell and emerged unbroken, who's faced down threats and fear with unwavering courage, has chosen to build her future with me.
As we exit the courtroom, surrounded by friends and supporters, Cooper's voice cuts through the celebratory atmosphere.
"This isn't over, Riley," he calls, ignoring his attorney's attempts to silence him. "A piece of paper doesn't change anything. You'll always be looking over your shoulder, wondering when I'll be there."
I move instantly, placing myself between Riley and Cooper, my body a physical barrier between them. But Riley steps around me, facing her tormentor with remarkable composure.
"No, Brad, it is over," she says, voice clear and carrying. "You have no power over me anymore. Not legally, not emotionally, not in any way that matters."
The simple declaration, delivered without drama or hysteria, seems to impact Cooper more than any angry retort could have. He stares at her, momentarily speechless, as if seeing for the first time that the woman he tried to break has not only survived but thrived.
"Let's go home," Riley says to me, turning her back on Cooper with the finality of a door closing on the past.
As we walk away, her hand firmly in mine, Sophie and the others forming a protective circle around us, I allow myself to fully acknowledge what I've known since the first night Riley appeared on my doorstep:
This is just the beginning. Our story is only starting to unfold. And whatever challenges lie ahead, we'll face them exactly as we faced this one.
Together.
The driveback to Grizzly Ridge passes in comfortable silence, Riley's hand resting on my thigh as we wind through the mountain roads. The weight of victory settles around us like a warm blanket.
