Chapter 1

Evangelina

“You're an asshole, Christopher Matthews.”

“Oh, you must be really angry if you’re adding the last name,” Christopher replies, a smirk playing on his lips. He stands in front of me, his expensive suit perfectly tailored, and stares at me with disdain in his light-brown eyes. “Nice language to use in front of your son, Eva. Guess you can take the girl out of the gutter, but you can’t take the gutter out of the girl.”

As always, his words are meant to remind me that he sees me as beneath him. I hate the way he judges me, like I’m the worst person in the world. Like I’m insignificant. Even when we were married, he always made me feel so… small.

But we aren’t married anymore, and he no longer has that hold on me.

I square my shoulders and raise my chin. “Nice try. Nate’s not even out here. Why did you have me bring over his teddy bear if you weren’t going to at least let me say hi to him?”

“You know the judge’s rules, Eva,” he says with a condescending tone. “No unscheduled contact, unless I approve it. And now just isn’t a good time.” He gives me a smug smile because he holds all the cards.

Our five-year-old son, Nathaniel, watches us through the pane-glass window of my ex-husband’s new million-dollar mansion. His small hand waves at me, and I see tears streaming down his sweet face. More than anything, I want to rush to him and tell him everything will be okay.

But it won’t be. Not when the judge handed down a court order that granted Christopher legal custody of our boy.

It’s been a little over six months since the court’s decision, and so far, nothing I’ve done to appeal the ruling has worked. The countless nights of poring over legal documents, the consultations with various attorneys, and the pleas to the judge—all have been in vain.

“Well, are they his rules or simply what you’ve told him to do?” I ask, my voice trembling with frustration. “Isn’t that truly how things work? You must really have dirt on him, huh?”

Christopher's smirk widens, but he says nothing, letting my accusation hang in the air. I knew a custody battle against a seasoned lawyer would be hard, but I naively thought the judge would see how much I love my son. How well I care for him. I’m not uber-rich like Christopher, but even with only a waitressing job, I make sure Nate wants for nothing.

I recall the sleepless nights staying up with Nate when he had the flu, the countless bedtime stories, and the handmade Halloween costumes. I might not have the financial means to shower him with luxuries, but I’ve always ensured he has everything he needs and more.

Yet, here I am...without custody of my child. The injustice of it all weighs heavily on me. My heart aches as I look at Nathaniel, who still stands at the window, his tear-streaked face pressed against the glass. His small hand still waving, he looks so lost and helpless.

How can the system be so blind to the pain it's causing? How can Christopher, the man who once promised to love and cherish me, now stand here, relishing in my suffering?

“Why don’t you talk to your lawyer and petition the court for more visitation?” Christopher suggests, giving me a haughty smile. He knows things won’t go my way. They never do. Not when it comes to that crooked courthouse, the crooked judge, and all of Christopher’s crooked friends.

“Just make sure he’s ready at five on Friday,” I say, grinding my teeth so I don’t say anything he can use against me.

A woman gets out of a Mercedes across the street and glances over at us before walking toward her sprawling home. They’re all so nosy. I must look pathetic standing out here on Christopher’s pristine lawn, exposed for the entire posh neighborhood to see.

“Oh, right, about that…” Christopher says. “Jessica and I are going out of town with Nate.” Before I can object, he holds up a well-manicured hand. “Listen, Nate’s been wanting to go to Disney World for a long time. And we wanted to hit it before he starts kindergarten. You’re not going to deny him Disney World, are you?”

“You booked a vacation over my weekend?” My voice quivers with frustration.

“Yeah, it was the only time Jessica could take off from work. I forgot to call you and see if we could switch weekends. You can have the following weekend. I thought you’d be okay with it because it’s a four-day weekend, so you can have him an extra day. Like a bonus day.”

“Okay, I can move some things around.” I feel defeated. “Next time, talk to me before you make plans. I don’t care that Jessica can’t get the time off work.” I despise Jessica and how she’s slowly trying to become my son’s new mom.

“Will do.” Christopher turns away with the same smug expression, ending our conversation.

I blow a kiss to Nate, who still stares at me from the window. For him, I put on a happy face even though I’m slowly dying inside. He smiles back, his carefree attitude trying to understand the situation. He’s too young to grasp the complexities, and his innocence makes the whole ordeal even more heartbreaking.

As I walk back to my car, I can feel the weight of the neighborhood’s judgmental stares. I’ve been fighting so hard for my son, but every setback feels like a punch to the gut. The battle is far from over, but right now, it’s hard to see any light at the end of this dark tunnel.

I slide into my worn-out Jetta and the engine takes a minute to rev, but it finally comes alive. As I pull away from Christopher’s house, the first tear trickles down my face.

It’s met by an onslaught of more tears in its wake.

How is this my life? Why is my son not in the car with me?

The first month after losing custody, I became a stalker, showing up at Christopher’s house, wanting to make sure he was taking care of Nate.

Christopher petitioned the court, requesting a psychiatric evaluation of me. Said I was losing my mind.

The second month, I wallowed in misery and cried myself into more debt than I could afford. Bills piled up and I could barely afford to put food on the table. So, I struggle. I make do. Barely.

And when it’s my turn to have my son every other weekend, I live for those days. It’s the only time I actually feel alive anymore.

Instead of going home, I head across town to talk to my lawyer about how I can help my chances of winning back custody.

With half my money directly to my lawyer, he should come to me. I’m convinced he doesn’t like me very much. I had to beg him to take my case because no one else would. Once they find out who my ex is, they turn me away. No one wants to go against the juggernaut of a lawyer that Christopher Matthews is.

I can’t believe I ever thought I loved him. Looking back, I realize how misguided I was by his charm.

I zone out while I drive, thinking about my mistakes. How Christopher lied to me time and time again. Should I have stayed? Could I have faked the perfect marriage for one second longer?

No, I couldn’t.

I couldn’t take the “love” taps. The betrayal. The lies. The other women. The way he tore down my self-esteem. But, knowing what I do now, I would have stuck it out longer if I could be with my son every day. However, I no longer have that choice. I'll never get a redo. No matter how many times I wish for it.

Beg for it.

Pray for it.

No one up there is listening to me.

I pull into my lawyer’s office complex and throw my car into park. Once I’m in Jack Stead’s office, his receptionist, Dora, gives me a fake smile.

She doesn’t like me either.

Let’s just say, I visit a lot.

But I always feel like there’s more I can do. I’ll never give up.

“I’ll let him know you’re here. He’s just finishing up a call.”

“Thank you.” I cross to the waiting area and take a seat in one of the club chairs. Christopher once told me that the color combination in his office was meant to soothe clients, but these moth-gray walls and blue furniture do nothing to calm the riot in my stomach.

After a few minutes, Dora ushers me into Jack’s office.

“Evangelina, welcome.” He leans back in his chair. “What brings you here today?”

“I went by Christopher’s house today.” He frowns. “I know what you’re thinking. I went by because Christopher asked me to drop off a bear of Nate’s.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “It’s a special one he’s had since he was born, and it’s usually at my house, but he wanted it because he missed me.”

My lawyer’s dark gaze softens for the first time. “I’m sorry. What happened when you got to Mr. Matthews’ house?”

“He wouldn’t let me see him, of course.”

He never lets me see him.

Jack nods. “Evangelina, there’s not much we can do.”

“I’m so tired of hearing that. Is there anything I can do to help my case along? I want to look perfect when we go in front of the new judge.” That’s one good thing this lawyer has done. He’s got me a new judge who apparently has no ties to Christopher, or so I hope.

“It’s not looking hopeful.” He smiles. “But don’t worry we can still win this thing. I was thinking, do you go to church?”

I blink at him. “Church?”

“Yeah, I think it might make you look better to the judge. Judge Hamptonson is a devout church goer.”

“I’m not really much of a church goer, but I’ll do anything to get my son back.”

“Try going to church. There’s a great service over at St. Paul’s. You should check it out.”

I nod. “Oh, okay.”

It’s clear our meeting is over, so I stand and shake his hand.

“Oh, and Evangelina,” he says before I reach the door. “I won’t charge you for today.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

And now I’m off to church. I have no idea what to expect, but what I find is a whole lot more than I ever envisioned.