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I sit cross-legged on Grant’s couch, his laptop open, phone in hand.

My head pounds from hours of scrolling through his old texts, emails, legal records.

But I don’t stop.

Because this is how we win.

Grant paces nearby, jaw tight, hands balled into fists.

“Look at this,” I mutter, turning the screen toward him.

He leans over, scanning the message.

Lauren’s words are like a punch to the gut.

If you fight me on this, I’ll make sure Olivia never sees you again. You’ll regret it.

Grant’s breath hitches.

I see it. Feel the tension ripple through him.

I reach out, taking his hand.

“This is good,” I say softly.

Grant lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head.

“Good? Kenzie, this is a damn threat.”

I nod.

“And now it’s evidence.”

Grant can’t sit still.

I’m still digging through files, scanning every message Lauren ever sent, but Grant?

He looks like he’s about to explode.

Because it’s one thing to remember all the ways Lauren twisted the knife.

It’s another thing entirely to see it laid out in black and white.

I sense it. Because I shut my laptop, stand, and walk straight to him.

I don’t say anything at first. Just place my hands flat against his chest. Grounding him.

It works. Sort of.

“You need to take a breath,” I murmur.

Grant lets out a sharp laugh, raking a hand through his hair.

“She’s been doing this for years,” he mutters. “And I let her. I let her play me.”

My eyes flash.

“You were protecting Olivia.”

Grant’s jaw tightens.

“Was I? Or was I letting her keep control?”

I narrow my eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” His voice is sharp now. “I should have fought harder. I should have—”

“Stop.”

My voice cuts through the room.

Grant goes still.

I step closer, voice low but fierce.

“You are fighting now.”

Grant’s breath shudders.

He’s right. But the guilt at not pre-empting this and squashing it sooner is still there.

I cup his jaw, making him look at me.

“Grant, Olivia is going to know—someday, somehow—that you fought like hell for her. And you’re still fighting. So stop acting like you’ve already lost.”

Grant stares at me.

And then, the anger drains just a little.

“You’re right.”

I watch as Grant rolls his shoulders, exhaling slowly.

The weight on him is crushing.

And while I can help him hold it up, I can’t do it alone.

We need backup.

I grab my phone, scrolling through my contacts.

“Who are you calling?” Grant asks, voice still gravelly from frustration.

“Allie,” I say simply.

Grant lifts a brow.

I hold up a hand.

“We need people who know Olivia. Who have seen you with her. Who can testify as to what kind of father you are.”

Grant drags a hand down his face.

“I hate bringing people into this.”

My eyes soften.

“They want to be in this. And we need every advantage we can get.”

The phone rings twice before Allie picks up.

“Kenz?”

I sink onto the couch.

“Hey, Allie. I need a favor.”

Allie doesn’t hesitate.

“Whatever you need,” she says immediately.

I glance at Grant. He’s standing near the window, his shoulders tense, jaw locked.

“Grant needs character witnesses for the custody case,” I explain. “People who can vouch for him as a father. As the stable parent.”

Allie doesn’t miss a beat.

“You have me. And Jake. And Kingston. Heck, all the guys will do it.”

I let out a slow breath.

Grant turns sharply. “Wait. Jake is that supportive?”

Allie huffs a laugh. “You think my husband is going to let Lauren pull this shit? He knows exactly what you’re fighting for.”

Grant blows out a breath, shaking his head.

I can tell it’s not frustration. It’s something deeper.

Relief.

Gratitude.

Something he doesn’t know how to say out loud.

“Thank you,” he finally murmurs.

Allie scoffs.

“Please. It’s an excuse to tear into Lauren in a legal setting. I’m thrilled.”

I smile despite the tension.

Grant rubs a hand over his jaw.

“This is happening,” he mutters. “We’re really doing this.”

I take his hand.

“You’re not alone in this, Grant.”

He squeezes back.

And with that—

I know he believes me.