The courtroom was quiet—so quiet Naya could hear her own pulse in her ears.
Tami sat near the front, little legs swinging off the bench, clinging to the stuffed bunny Naya had bought her few days ago. Her eyes kept darting between her parents. She looked smaller than usual. Braver, too.
The judge adjusted his glasses, voice firm but kind.
"After reviewing the testimonies, the psychological report, and most importantly—Tami's own statement—this court finds it in the child's best interest to place her under the temporary custody of her father, Kian Hayes."
Kian didn't breathe.
"The child will reside with Mr. Hayes for a three-month trial period, during which the court will monitor her well-being. A final decision regarding permanent custody will be made after this period, giving Tami a chance to experience life with both parents."
Clarissa's gasp sliced through the room. She turned to glare at Kian, then at Naya—but said nothing.
Tami smiled.
That was all Kian needed.
---
Outside the courthouse, press cameras flashed like fireworks. Naya stood beside Kian, her hand resting on Tami's small shoulder. She smiled—not for the cameras, but for the little girl who had made the bravest choice of all.
This was what it meant to fight for family.
---
That evening, Kian, Naya, and Tami walked through the front door together—for the first time as something resembling a real family.
Tami ran straight to her room, excited about her pink bean bag and books lined on her tiny shelf. Kian watched her, awe softening his face.
"She chose me," he whispered. "After everything… she still chose me."
Naya stepped behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Because she knows you love her. Kids feel that. No courtroom can fake it."
---
Later that night, after Tami had fallen asleep curled in her blanket fortress, Kian and Naya stood outside her door.
"We're really doing this," he said. "This marriage… this family…"
Naya leaned her head on his shoulder. "Yeah. And maybe we didn't start the way most people do. But I don't think I'd change any of it."
He looked down at her, eyes softening. "Not even the part where you judged me for wearing hoodies to meetings?"
She laughed. "Especially that part."
He pulled her closer, lips brushing her cheek. "Come to bed, wife."
And for once, the word didn't feel like a title.
It felt like a promise.