Fractures beneath the surface part two

The courtroom was colder than Andrea expected. Not physically, but emotionally—a hollow, echoing place where every glance felt sharpened, every word a potential wound. She sat stiffly between her attorney and Doc, her hands folded in her lap, knuckles white. Across the aisle, Tio’s expression was unreadable, but the fire in his eyes hadn't dulled.

This was not how she'd imagined her pregnancy. Not surrounded by whispered gossip, a media circus trying to spin the story of a reformed father reclaiming his rights. Not with Doc—her anchor—sitting beside her but feeling galaxies away.

Tio had filed for partial custody of Anthony.

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t even known about the boy for the first two years. Or that Andrea had run from him for a reason. What mattered was that he'd lawyered up, and now the system was listening.

Doc had tried to be strong. At first.

But the pressure of possibly losing Anthony—the boy he’d grown to love like his own—was eating away at him. He’d begun pulling back. Not out of resentment, but fear. And Andrea? She didn’t know how to hold it all anymore.

In private moments, their intimacy became quieter, less frequent. Not because they didn’t want each other, but because everything else felt so loud.

One night, after a particularly long day in court, Andrea sat alone on the porch, wrapped in one of Doc’s sweaters. Her belly was swollen beneath it, seven months along now, and kicking.

Doc joined her quietly, two mugs of herbal tea in hand.

“He has a good lawyer,” he said.

“I know.”

“He knows what he’s doing. How to twist things. How to look clean.”

Andrea took the mug but didn’t drink. “Do you think he’ll win?”

Doc hesitated. “I don’t know.”

That pause—more than anything—hurt.

“I need you to believe in this. In me. In us,” she whispered.

He looked at her then, eyes tired but still filled with that same depth. “I do. I believe in us, Andy. But I’m scared. I never thought I could lose him. Or you.”

Andrea leaned into him, head resting on his shoulder. “I’m scared too. But I didn’t choose you just for the easy days.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“Then tell me what we do now,” he said.

She exhaled slowly. “We fight. Not just in court. For our family. And we hold each other when it gets ugly.”

Doc’s arm slid around her, pulling her in gently. “Even if I fall apart a little?”

“I’ll be there to put you back together.”