33
Charlie can't sleep.
He's suffering—has been for a while, if he's honest with himself—but now it's worse. Worse than ever. Worse than it has been in years. After everything that was said, everything that happened, after Nick—Nick—looked him in the eyes and spat out words designed to wound before walking away, Charlie doesn’t know how to close his eyes without hearing them on repeat.
He's heartbroken over Remy getting hurt. That much is undeniable. He hates that it happened at all, but he knows in his heart that it wasn’t intentional. Nick didn’t mean to do it—it was an accident, a moment that spiraled out of control. That doesn’t make it okay, and it doesn’t erase the consequences, but Charlie knows it wasn’t done out of malice.
The words, though.
The things Nick said to him—those were intentional. Those were meant to hurt. And Charlie doesn’t know why. Maybe it was the heat of the moment, maybe Nick lashed out because he felt guilty, or maybe—maybe Charlie really is the problem. Maybe Nick was telling him the truth. That Ben is here because of Charlie. That Charlie is the reason Nick hates his job now. That Charlie forced a title on Nick that he wasn’t ready for. Maybe every single one of those things is true.
It wouldn’t be the first time Charlie has been the reason someone suffered.
But no—no. He’s grown. He’s not that scared, naive boy anymore who believes that every bad thing that happens is his fault. He knows now that sometimes, people say cruel things just to cause pain. Sometimes, people lash out. Sometimes, people act out of anger, not truth. And just because Nick said those things doesn’t mean they’re real.
He repeats that to himself, again and again, like a mantra in his head. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.
It still hurts.
And even though he knows better—knows he shouldn’t let himself fall back into that place where he shoulders blame he doesn’t deserve—Nick’s words sit in his chest like stones, weighing him down, making sleep impossible.
Charlie knows how arguments go. He’s lived through enough of them to recognize the patterns, the cycle of tension and resolution, or lack thereof. In his marriage with Ben, arguments always ended the same way—Ben would tear him down, break him apart, and Charlie would shrink back, tail between his legs, pretending he didn’t care just to survive. But Charlie isn’t that person anymore. He’s spent years learning, healing, growing into himself. He isn’t timid. He doesn’t cower. He doesn’t let himself be small just to make someone else feel big.
So this time, when the argument happens, Charlie doesn’t just stand there and take it. He fights back.
He’s in a better place now, or at least, he’s trying to be. He’s stronger. He knows what he deserves. And the truth is, Nick has always been kind, true, and pure—Charlie has seen that, felt it in every soft touch, every gentle whisper. But now, he’s seen the other side too. The dark parts, the ones that remind him too much of Ben. And Charlie swore—swore on his life, on his heart, on his son—that he would never be in that kind of relationship again.
Nick needs help. That much is clear. And Charlie hopes, truly hopes, that he gets it. That he works through whatever storm is raging inside of him, that he becomes the person Charlie knows he can be. But if—when—Nick does that, if he ever wants Charlie back in his life, it won’t be easy. Charlie won’t make it easy. Because apologies won’t be enough. Words are just words until they’re backed by action, by proof, by effort. Nick is going to have to show him that he didn’t mean what he said, that he didn’t say those things just to hurt him, to make him doubt himself. He’s going to have to fight for him.
And Charlie? Charlie is so damn tired of fighting for people who won’t fight for him.
If Nick wants him, really wants him, then he has to prove it.
But it still hurts. It still makes Charlie shake. It still makes him cry. It still leaves him raw, open, breaking apart at the seams, because no matter how much he’s grown, no matter how much stronger he’s become, it doesn’t make the pain any less real.
And this—this feels like breaking all over again.
Charlie shakes the thoughts of Nick away. He can't afford to think about him right now—not when everything else is falling apart. What Nick said, what Nick did, it hurts. Deeply. And Charlie doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to recover from those blows, because whether or not Nick intended to be cruel, to be controlling, to make Charlie feel small and insignificant—it still happened. It still left a mark.
But Nick isn’t his focus right now. He can’t be.
Right now, Charlie’s only priority is ensuring that he keeps his son. That Ben—his cruel, manipulative, spiteful ex-husband—never gets another chance to worm his way back into their lives.
Sleep isn’t an option. Not with everything at stake. So he spends hours hunched over his laptop, the glow of the screen illuminating his tired, determined face. He digs through old files, through receipts and evidence he’s kept locked away for years—because even when he was at his weakest, Charlie knew he had to be prepared.
And he was.
The USB drive in his hand holds everything. Every vile message Ben ever sent him. Every photo of the bruises Charlie took in secret after their fights. Every desperate attempt to document the truth, to make sure that if it ever came to this, he could fight back. Not just against Ben, but against anyone who ever tried to strip him of his agency, his worth, his son.
And so he gathers it all—proof, undeniable proof—because he’s going to make a report. He’s going to do something. He’s going to make sure that Ben never has the chance to hurt him or Remy ever again.
Charlie is exhausted. He’s been fighting for so long.
But if this is his last battle, if this is the final war he has to wage, then he’ll fight with everything he has.
And when it’s over, when Ben is nothing more than a ghost in his past, Charlie hopes—prays—that he’ll never have to fight again.
It’s early morning by the time Charlie gathers every piece of evidence he can find. The night has been brutal—grueling, even. Reliving it, sorting through old photos, rereading vile text messages, dragging himself back through every violent memory—it nearly drowns him. His hands shake as he scrolls, his stomach churns as he stares at the past, and the weight of it all presses down on his chest, suffocating.
He doesn’t want to remember. Doesn’t want to feel the phantom sting of fists or hear the echo of words that tore him apart. But he forces himself through it. Because no matter how much it hurts, it’s necessary.
It’s the only way to keep Remy safe.
Charlie tries not to let his mind spiral. Tries not to think about the people who warned him, the friends who told him time and time again to leave, to never marry a man as cruel and manipulative as Ben. But he had stayed. He had believed in love, in change, in hope. He had convinced himself that the bruises, the apologies, the cycle of pain and false promises were worth enduring.
And maybe, in some twisted way, he still thinks he deserves this suffering.
But Remy doesn’t.
Remy will never deserve the weight of Ben Hope looming over him, not at school, not at home, not anywhere. And so, Charlie allows himself to drown in these memories for one final time. He lets the past suffocate him so he can use it—so he can make sure his son’s future is free of it.
When the first light of dawn filters through his blinds, when Remy jumps onto his bed with a sleepy giggle, Charlie pulls himself back to the present. He gathers his strength, pressing a kiss to his son’s curls, and makes a decision.
Today, after dropping Remy off at school, he’s going to the police station.
He will report the abuse. Every slap, every threat, every moment of fear. It doesn’t matter that it’s been years—the danger has returned. Ben is here, in his life again, now with power over his son’s school. He has to show the court, the judge, anyone who will listen, that Ben is still a threat. That he is unfit to be a principal, unfit to be near Remy.
Because if he doesn’t fight, Ben wins.
And Charlie refuses to let that happen.
Even if Nick, despite the pain in his voice the last time they spoke, doesn’t want to see him again, Charlie won’t let Ben ruin his life too. He won’t let Nick lose the job he loves over this.
Charlie tightens his grip on Remy, inhaling the warmth of his son, and exhales slowly.
It’s time to fight back.
When Charlie drops Remy off at school, he waits in the parking lot for Nick like usual. Five minutes pass. Then ten. The end of the drop-off window is creeping closer, and still, Nick doesn’t come.
Charlie frowns, a nervous knot forming in his stomach. Maybe Nick is just running late. Maybe he’s finally taking some time for himself, getting help, getting space. Maybe this is good. But the lingering uncertainty weighs heavy on him, and when he finally decides to step inside the school, he feels a creeping sense of dread slither up his spine.
Ben could be here.
The thought makes his pulse stutter, but he doesn’t let it stop him. He won’t allow himself to be controlled by that fear. Not anymore.
When he reaches Nick’s classroom, his stomach tightens at the sight of a substitute teacher standing in his place. He shouldn’t be surprised—Nick has been running on fumes, barely holding it together. Maybe this means he’s finally resting, finally recovering from everything. Or maybe… maybe Nick has realized that everything between them is too much, that he needs distance. Maybe he regrets all of it.
Charlie swallows down the insecurity, not letting it show as he kneels to kiss Remy’s cheek. Once. Twice. Three times. A reassurance for himself as much as for his son.
The bruising on Remy’s cheek has faded slightly, thanks to the ice. It’s still there, faint but visible if someone looks closely enough. But no one should be looking that closely. No one should be near enough to notice. No one but him.
Charlie smooths Remy’s hair, gives him a small smile, and stands.
Then, he leaves.
Not to go home. Not to sit in his car and spiral.
No.
Charlie wants to fight. Needs to fight.
So he drives straight to the police station.
By the time he steps through the doors, his hands are shaking, his heartbeat uneven, but he forces himself forward, towards the front desk where a tall, broad-shouldered officer with the name tag Nigel looks up from his paperwork.
“What can I do for you?” Nigel asks, voice steady, professional.
Charlie takes a breath, grounding himself.
“I’d like to report a domestic violence case,” he says, his voice firm despite the tremble in his hands. “My ex-husband. He now works at my son’s school… and I’m worried about my son’s safety.”
"Alright," Nigel says, offering Charlie a reassuring nod. "We can absolutely take your statement, but I'll need some information from you first—basic details, your concerns, and any supporting evidence you have. Do you have any documentation or is this just a verbal report for now?"
Charlie shifts on his feet, gripping his phone a little tighter. "No, no, I have evidence," he says quickly. "I transferred everything from my computer to my phone. I—uh—I wasn’t sure if I needed to print anything or how I was supposed to bring it. I’ve never done this before. But I have it. I just… I want to make the report, and I don’t know what happens next, but is there a way to get this to court? Or file for a restraining order? Something to make me feel safer? I’m worried about my son. And myself. I just… I need help." His voice wavers slightly at the end, but he swallows hard, keeping himself steady.
Nigel nods, his expression calm and professional. "I hear you, Charlie. And yes, we can absolutely help with that. First things first, I’ll grab some paperwork for you to fill out—basic information, details of your concerns. Once that’s done, another officer and I will come in so you can give a full statement. From there, we’ll talk through next steps, including any legal protections available to you, like a restraining order." He pauses, meeting Charlie’s eyes. "You’re doing the right thing. We’ll take this seriously."
Charlie exhales, nodding. "Okay. Yeah. Thank you."
Nigel offers a small, reassuring smile before standing. "I’ll be right back with those forms. Take a seat."
As Nigel leaves the room, Charlie tightens his grip on his phone, his leg bouncing under the table. This is the right thing. He knows that. But knowing doesn’t make it any less terrifying.
The entire process takes hours—two, maybe three, probably closer to four if Charlie were really keeping count. Time stretches and contracts as he sits in Nigel’s office, recounting everything in painstaking detail. Years of marriage, years of control, of manipulation, of bruises hidden under long sleeves and silences swallowed in fear. He lays it all out, piece by piece, no longer willing to let Ben control the narrative.
Nigel listens carefully, taking notes, occasionally asking for clarification. It’s methodical. Precise. There’s no room for vagueness in situations like this. When Charlie is finished speaking, he provides everything—text messages, emails, medical records, photos. Proof that isn’t just his word against Ben’s.
Once everything is compiled, Nigel organizes the evidence, scanning and printing multiple copies, placing them neatly into a case file.
“Here’s what happens next,” Nigel says, professional but kind, understanding the weight of what Charlie has just relived. “I’ll go over all of this carefully. You should hear back within the next week regarding a preliminary hearing. At that hearing, a judge will review the initial evidence and determine whether Ben’s possible petition for custody—or co-parenting—has any standing, if he decides to do that route."
Charlie swallows hard, nodding. “And if they don’t dismiss it outright?”
“Then it will move to a formal custody hearing, where both you and Ben will have the opportunity to present your cases. Given the history you’ve documented, your legal standing is strong. You’ve been Remy’s primary caregiver for years, and you have documented evidence of abuse. That will weigh heavily in the judge’s decision.”
Charlie exhales, tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “So… what should I do now?”
Nigel hands him a folder with a list of recommended family law attorneys. “I strongly advise you to retain legal counsel. Even with substantial evidence, you’ll want a lawyer who specializes in family law and custody disputes. They can help ensure everything is filed correctly and prepare you for court proceedings. In the meantime, I’ll be drafting a formal response to Ben’s petition, contesting his claim.”
Charlie grips the folder tightly. “And Ben? What happens with him?”
“A letter of response will be sent to Ben and his legal representative, outlining your position and the evidence you’ve submitted. That may be enough to deter him. If not, we’ll prepare for a full hearing. In the meantime, I’d advise limiting contact with him as much as possible. If he tries to contact you, document everything. If he threatens or harasses you, let me or your attorney know immediately.”
Charlie nods, feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and relief. It’s not over. Not by a long shot. But for the first time, it feels like he’s taking real steps toward protecting Remy—not just shielding him, but actively ensuring Ben never has the chance to hurt him the way he once hurt Charlie.
Charlie knows exactly why Ben is here. Whether he’s claiming to want to co-parent or aiming to take full custody of Remy, the truth is painfully clear—Ben has never been one to let go without a fight. And now, with a court summons looming over him, Charlie knows for a fact that Ben won’t go down easily.
He’ll twist the truth, paint himself as the victim, rewrite history until it favors him. He’ll try to erase the years of damage, the bruises that faded but never really left, the cruelty that turned Charlie into something fragile and guarded. He’ll stand before a judge and argue that he was never the villain, that what happened between them was exaggerated, twisted, false.
But Charlie is ready.
Because no matter what Ben says, no matter how he manipulates the narrative, no matter what performance he puts on in the courtroom, one thing remains unchanged—Ben will never take his son. Not now. Not ever.
Whether this is another one of Ben’s mind games, a power move meant to rattle Charlie, or if he truly believes he deserves a place in Remy’s life, it doesn’t matter. Because the truth, raw and undeniable, will be laid bare in court. His intentions will be exposed under scrutiny, served on a silver platter for all to see.
And Charlie?
Charlie refuses to take the bait.
Charlie is going to court again—but this time, it’s his decision. This time, he’s the one forcing Ben to fall at his feet, to answer for his actions. Because if there is one thing Charlie Spring will fight for, bleed for, and protect until his last breath, it’s his son.
And yes, Nick’s words had been cruel. Nick’s words had carried the weight of truth, sharp as daggers, cutting deep. But this time, the dagger didn’t just wound—it opened Charlie’s eyes. It forced him to see the truth he had been too afraid to face. That Ben had been lurking. That Ben had been circling, waiting, and Charlie had done nothing. Days had passed. Weeks. And Ben was still here, still a shadow at the edge of his life, still a threat to the one thing Charlie cherished more than anything.
Nick’s words had hurt. They had sliced him open, left wounds that might never fully heal. But they were necessary. And now, Charlie is taking that dagger—the one Nick drove into him, the one that twisted deep in his gut, forcing him to wake up—and he’s using it as his own weapon.
Because Ben doesn’t get to win. Not this time.
Not ever again.
Charlie is going to court. And this time, he’s the one holding the blade.