I wrote this last night so I'm able to publish it today.

I hope you enjoy!

•••

I wasn't allowed to see Leo after I woke up from my coma. The doctors were scared I'd overexert myself, or go into a state of shock– I didn't bother listening to their explanation, if I'm being honest. The point was, the doctors and nurses were heavily monitoring me for three weeks. During that time, I wasn't allowed to leave the ICU or the recovery ward.

The only way for me to see Leo was through Rose and Dylan, who always went to the NICU to check up on his progress. They'd take pictures and videos for me and would return with them so I could watch him wave his arm or move his fingers. The idea of being so far away from my baby was starting to get to me four days after I woke up, and after that, I refused to see any more pictures.

I didn't like how I had almost died to give birth to a child I couldn't even see. I was his mother– I should've been there in person to watch him wave his arms or to watch him develop into a healthy baby. Sometimes I'd snap at Dylan when he offered to show me pictures, or I'd burst into tears because I almost died for a second time in my life, the two experiences only six months apart. I was also suddenly hit with the reality that I was now a mother.

I didn't grow up with one. I didn't know how to be a good mother. What if I was as shitty as mine was? What if I unintentionally hurt my baby? I was thrown into a new life I thought I was prepared for but wasn't, and that alone made me feel overwhelmed with hopelessness. I couldn't sleep because my nightmares only got worse and I refused to see anybody but Rose and Dylan, who fought tooth and nail against the nurses when they said I wasn't accepting visitors.

I was a hysterical mess, which prompted my obstetrician to send a psychiatrist down who, after a week of therapy, diagnosed me with postpartum depression.

Along with the other substances that were being pumped into me, I also had to take a daily dose of anti-depressants and attend therapy. I didn't feel any improvements, though, even when I first saw Leo in person.

Leo was a premature baby, meaning he was delivered before thirty-seven weeks. He was tiny and had wires hooked up to him. They put him in what I could only describe as a huge plastic, container. It was a crib that was covered by a plastic lid, and had a small hole on the side so nurses can reach in and adjust whatever they needed to. He was extremely red, barely had a head of hair, and was about the size of my forearm– maybe even smaller.

I continued to attend the therapy sessions though, and Dylan would wheel me into the NICU to see Leo everyday, even when I didn't feel like it. Slowly, though, I began to look forward to seeing my baby, and my symptoms of postpartum depression were beginning to fade. The fear of being a shit mother, though, never went away.

Leo was my entire world, and I didn't want anything to harm him. Especially not his father, which was why I never put his name on the birth certificate. As far as Leo was concerned, he didn't have a dad. It was for the better. Adam was a criminal who was only with me to rob me. He ripped me apart and until I became the shell of a woman and I didn't want that for Leo.

Leo deserved a dad as great as mine was, or as amazing as Dylan was to his kids. Thankfully, I had Isaac, who treated Leo like his own son. He took him to the cinemas, football practice, out with his friends who also had kids. Leo didn't have a father, but he was growing up with a father-figure, and that was all I could hope for.

Leo was my world, and that's what I wanted to give him.

He deserved nothing but the universe.

•••

SUMMONS IN A CIVIL ACTION
Case: 48-283-02-C

To Miss Amber Amity (defendant),
12 Rue de la Paix, Fashionistique HQ, Paris, France

A lawsuit has been filed against you.

Within 20 days after service of this summons on you, you must serve the plaintiff an answer to the attached complaint or a motion. The answer or motion must be served on the plaintiff's attorney or the plaintiff him/herself, whose name and address are:

Plaintiff: Adam Hindley
35 Arran Mill

Plaintiff's Attorney: Omar Moore
1234 Kings Avenue

The lawsuit that has been filed is in regards to the custody of Leo Amity, who is presumed to be Adam Hindley's biological son. The plaintiff demands shared custody over Leo Amity in the events that he has been proven to be his biological son.

If you fail to respond, judgement by default will be entered against you for the relief demanded in the complaint. You must file your answer or motion with the court.

Signed,
CLERK OF COURT

•••

Apparently, Adam had been released on 'good behavior'. His sentence wasn't that long to begin with, given he'd helped the police during the interrogation. Adam was out, and he was filing for joint custody over Leo.

The first thing I did was call our family lawyer, Dante, whom I'd first met when papa was on his deathbed. He assured me he'd gather more information on the case, but until then, I shouldn't respond. He'd take care of everything for me.

It was those gossip magazines. I was certain it was the one of me, Isaac and Leo at the café. The paparazzi would have never been on my case if I never went to that fucking club. It was all peaceful until then; until I let loose and let my guard down.

Dante called me this morning and informed me Adam had been released two weeks ago. I wasn't to try and contact him or anything– I had to pretend like he didn't exist. But as I sat in my dimly lit living room, my legs crossed over each other as I hugged a throw pillow close to me, staring at the coffee table, I couldn't help but remember him.

How we met at university; how happy he made me; how he fucking robbed me. Adam Hindley was a hurricane– he brought chaos and destruction wherever he met, and I didn't doubt that this lawsuit would go down badly. He could demand custody for all he wants, I was not going to let him win. Leo deserved a good father, and Adam wasn't that. He'd only do to him what he did to me– ruin him.

After I put Leo to bed, I read through the summons three times before I felt the same feeling I did at the hospital resurface– hopelessness. What if somehow, this Omar guy was a good attorney and managed to get Adam what he wanted? I would've failed as a mother; I'd promised to protect Leo from all harm, and that was exactly what Adam was. He was a good for nothing piece of shit who had the balls to demand custody after serving a short sentence for robbing me.

I was Amber Amity, though, and I didn't feel hopeless. But at times like these, when all I was left with were my thoughts, all I could do was think and think and think until I started crying. Think about being held at gunpoint, think about Adam hurting Leo, think about losing my son to the person responsible for my PTSD.

I heard a beep sound from the doorway which made me stiffen. That beep only sounded when someone put in the incorrect code, and it was nearing ten PM now. My phone buzzed from the coffee table and I hugged the pillow closer to me as I leaned over to read the notification.

I scoffed and leaned back into the couch. He would have never found out if I never went to that stupid club with Isaac. The way I lived my life was fine– there was no Adam, no threats to my relationship with Leo, and I was doing what I've aspired to do since I was fourteen. If I had to blame anyone for this, it would be Isaac. I should have never 'let loose' because look where that got me.

My phone buzzed again.

I ignored the text and stared at the coffee table where the letter lay. I wasn't in the mood for 'movie night' and I sure as hell wasn't in the mood to see his face. A loud banging on the door startled me and I huffed when I realized the idiot was making a scene. I leaned over and picked up my phone.

With that reply, he started knocking on the door loudly, "Amber," He yelled. "Let me the fuck in before I wake up your neighbors." I huffed, knowing that if anything, Isaac would continue his antics until everybody filed a complaint against me. I also recently put Leo to bed, and the fuckwit would do nothing but wake him up.

I forced myself up from the couch and walked towards the front door. I put in the code I'd changed when I got home yesterday. When I heard the resounding 'click', I opened the door, only to be met with a fist ready to rap angrily on the door again.

Isaac was a one-point-eighty-five meters tall man with very defined muscles given his intense football training. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown than his hair, which was short and wavy. With a diamond-shaped face and a jawline defined by his stubble, Isaac wasn't unattractive. His shoulders weren't broad and his figure wasn't necessarily large, but he was still intimidating. Especially when he wore the tightly fitted shirts like he was wearing today. Isaac, though, was just a teddy bear who did nothing but care for others, which was exactly why he took me out to the club.

I didn't want to blame him, but I also didn't want to blame myself. I should've never gone out with him, and he should have never persuaded me to go out.

Isaac's expression morphed into one of worry at the sight of my disheveled state. I was wearing a very oversized shirt that was either his or Dylan's and a pair of shorts. My hair sat in an unattractive bun on the top of my head, and my face was no doubt blotchy and red from all the tears I'd cried.

"What?" I snapped staring up at him. "Leo's fucking sleeping and you probably just woke up everybody who lives on this floor."

His eyebrows furrowed, "Why were you crying, Amber?" He asked, voice soft and caring, not commenting on my hostility.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, "Isaac, can you just leave?" I stepped back and raised my hand to take hold of the edge of the door. "It's been a long day and I'm just not in the mood."

He placed a hand on the door to stop me from closing it and I inwardly cursed his muscles. He pushed the door open wider and stepped in. He closed it behind him and activated the alarm system like I always did. I ignored him and went to sit back in my spot on the living room couch. I felt his eyes follow me as I picked up the pillow and hugged it to my chest.

I heard the rustling of the take-out bag he had brought along with him behind me before the sound of his footsteps neared. He stood in front of me, eyes scrutinizing my figure, and took a seat on the coffee table in front of me. He placed his elbows on his knees, his hands falling limp between them and stared at me.

"Amber, why were you crying?" He repeated, eyes leveled with mine.

"Can you leave?" I asked, my voice shaky as I averted my gaze to the piece of paper that lay behind him.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." He said steadily, his gaze on the side of my face.

I hugged the pillow tighter, an action that didn't go unnoticed by him, and released an exasperated huff, "Isaac, I don't want to fucking talk to you right now."

He blinked and leaned back, staring at me with a calculating expression, "Are you mad at me?" He questioned. "Did I do something to piss you off?"

I rubbed my eye, tired from thinking about the lawsuit, and glanced down at my lap, "It's all your fault," I whispered, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

No, it fucking wasn't, Amber, you know this. He was only trying to help–

"What is?" He voiced out, leaning forward again. I swallowed thickly and he took my hand in his to grasp my attention, "Amber, what the fuck did I do?"

I pointed at the paper behind him, the action taking way more effort than it should have. His eyes flickered between me and the paper before he squeezed my hand tightly and let it go. He picked up the document and read through it, features hardening as his eyes skimmed through the summons. I got up from the couch and rounded it to stand behind it, going to rake my fingers through my hair when I remembered it was up in a bun.

He glanced up at me, face completely stoic, as he asked, "Is this the guy who–"

"Yes," I whispered, cutting him off. I rested my hands on the back of my couch and let my head hang low.

"I thought he was in prison," He said, tone incredulous.

"He got out on good behavior about two weeks ago," I replied, my voice hoarse as memories of everything he did started running through my head.

I should have never gone out. I knew it wasn't a good idea then and now it definitely wasn't. How did he get a hold of the magazines? Adam didn't like gossip, so how did he find out? Did he see it in a supermarket–

"Amber," Isaac started, getting up from the coffee table to come to stand beside me. "What are you going to do?"

I chuckled humourlessly, "I have to go to court to settle everything. I called my lawyer and he said not to contact him."

"Shit," He whispered, scratching his stubble. "How the fuck did he find out?"

How the fuck did he find out? What made him think that Leo was his son? Why didn't he assume Leo was Isaac's?

I lifted my head and glanced at him, "This is all your fucking fault, Isaac."

Isaac didn't hide his bafflement, "My fault?" He repeated. "How–"

I cut him off with a shake of my head, "I should have never let you convince me to go out," I breathed out, feeling my eyes prick with unshed tears. I felt anger slowly bubble through me making me stare up at him, "This is all your fault."

Isaac's eyes widened and he lifted his hands to place them on my shoulders, "I didn't fucking do anything–"

I swat his chest with the back of my hand, feeling my rage slowly growing, "I should have never let you take me out." I hissed, repeating the statement as I slapped his chest with every word I spoke. Isaac didn't stop me, he didn't even take a step back. Instead, he stood there and let me take out my rage on him.

"Amber," He jolted me by the shoulders, making me squirm to get his hands off of me. "It's not like I texted him and told him you had a son."

I stared up at him, my eyes wide, shining with unshed tears, "The paparazzi have been following me ever since the night we went to Étoile," I said, raising my voice at him. Isaac stared back at me, gaze never wavering as he took everything in. "They must've published a picture of Leo and me. He probably saw it in a magazine or online."

Isaac flattened his lips, "Amber, this isn't anybody's fault." He reaffirmed, grip tightening on my shoulder to get the message through my skull and into my brain. "He was bound to find out at some point."

"No!" I snapped, pushing him back with all the strength I possessed. Issac stumbled back at the gesture, surprise taking over his features as his eyes piercing into me, watching me approach him. I shoved him by the arm again, but he stayed rooted in the same spot, "We should have never gone to Étoile, Isaac. If we never went then the paparazzi would have never followed me and he would have never found out!"

Isaac grabbed my upper arm, making me pause my rant. He wiped the tears that fell out of my eyes with his thumb as I hiccuped, "He should have never found out. Leo needs a better father than him," I let out, my voice broken and shaky. "Leo doesn't deserve him– he deserves better."

"I know, my love," He murmured, his lips settling into a flat line.

My resolve broke and my rage turned into the familiar feeling of hopelessness as I sobbed, my tears running down my face as I stared down at the floor. I swore to give Leo the world, and if Adam won the case, I would've failed him as a mom.

Why the fuck was I handed the short end of the stick when it came to life?

"I'm sorry," I sniffled, wiping the tears with the heel of my hand. "This isn't your fault– you were just trying to help. I'm such a shitty–"

"You're not a shitty anything," Isaac cut me off, tone curt.

"I don't want Adam to–," I hiccuped, shaking my head. "What kind of mom would I be if I let Leo grow up with that sorry excuse for a father?"

"Come here," He mumbled, pulling me into his chest. He engulfed me in a tight hug, my face pressed into his chest. He rested his chin on top of my head, his arms wrapped around my smaller figure. "We'll find a way to win the case."

I sniffled, my tears soaking his white shirt, "What if he wins, Zac? I'd become legally obligated to let him see Leo."

He shushed me, "We'll figure something out," He murmured into my hair. "You have to take this one step at a time, love. Don't worry about the 'what ifs' until something actually happens."

I swallowed thickly before shifting so I was looking up at him, my chin resting on his chest. He glanced down at me and smiled softly, "You'll come with me, right? Dante said that I might need to meet with Adam in person and I don't think I can do that alone. I would ask Dylan but I'm scared he'd kill–"

"You don't even have to ask," He said, his voice smooth and sincere. "We'll take that ballsy fucker on together."

I grinned at his choice of words, wiping away my tears with my knuckles, "I'm so sorry for blaming this on you, Zachy. I just didn't know how to feel and I took everything out on you. I should've never blamed you for any of it. I know you were only trying to help me."

"It's fine, my love," He replied, placing a reassuring kiss on my forehead. "You still up for that movie?"

I nodded into his chest before he untangled his arms from around me. I followed him into the kitchen where he placed the takeout bag. He took out two styrofoam containers of food and read the labels before silently giving me one. I opened my fridge and retrieved two bottles of water before getting cutlery for both of us. He took one of the bottles from my hand and walked back into the living room. Isaac set his food on the coffee table before picking up the summons to fold it up. I took a seat on the couch, my legs crossed yoga-style as I picked up my remote to open my Netflix account.

"What do you want to watch?" I asked as he took a seat next to me.

"The last two Harry Potter movies," He said opening my takeout box for me and placing it on my lap before he opened his. He got a chicken shish kebab for himself and a lamb shashlik for me, both with a side of rice. I put on the movie and leaned back into the couch, lifting the container so I could eat without risking making the couch dirty.

Isaac finished his food thirty minutes into the movie and I'd handed him mine since I already had a bit of food when I fed Leo his dinner. By the time the second movie started, our positions had shifted so he was sitting at the end of the couch, my head on his lap as I extended my legs along the length of the couch. He'd tugged the hair tie out of my hair to set my hair free and his fingers played with my loose curls.

A yawn escaped my lips as I felt my eyelids droop, making Isaac chuckle, "You want me to take you to bed?"

"No," I slurred. "I can finish this movie."

His fingers ran over my scalp, making me let out a sigh of satisfaction as I relaxed.

"Alright," He whispered, continuing the head massage. "Good night, my love."

I definitely couldn't finish the movie and even he knew that— crying always took a toll on me. I let my eyelids shut as I breathed in a heavy breath, "Good night, Zachy."

He didn't chide me for using the nickname he hated and continued playing with my hair up until I fell asleep on his lap.

•••

– 19/07/20

Sorry for the short chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, though.