Page 14 of The Temporary Wife
“We’re here today to address Mrs. Lyla Marshall’s motion challenging the validity of the marriage between Colby Marshall and Gianna Stapleton Marshall,” he began.
“Mrs. Marshall alleges that this marriage was contracted solely for the purpose of influencing the custody proceedings regarding the minor child, Luca Marshall, and therefore constitutes marriage fraud.”
The words hung in the air like an accusation, cold and clinical. Marriage fraud. As if the love I felt for Colby and Luca could be reduced to a legal technicality.
Lyla’s attorney stood first, a sharp-dressed woman who laid out their case with surgical precision. The timeline. The recording of our conversation about maintaining the facade. Witness statements about our lack of prior romantic relationship. Financial records showing my maintained apartment.
Each piece of evidence felt like a small cut, and together they painted a picture that was technically accurate but missed the truth of what we’d become.
When it was David’s turn, he stood with quiet confidence.
“Your Honor, while it’s true that Mr. and Mrs. Marshall’s relationship began under unique circumstances, what we have here is not fraud but rather the natural evolution of a deep friendship into genuine love.
The evidence will show that what may have started as a practical arrangement has become a real and lasting marriage. ”
He called character witnesses: Summer, who testified about watching our relationship grow over the years; Kay, who spoke about our family dynamic and how natural we were together; even Mrs. Henderson, who talked about how I glowed when I spoke about my husband and stepson.
But I knew the real test would come when Colby and I took the stand ourselves.
“Mr. Marshall,” David said when Colby was sworn in, “can you tell the court why you married Gianna Stapleton?”
Colby looked directly at the judge, his voice steady and clear.
“Initially, yes, it was because I was facing a custody challenge and I believed being married would help demonstrate stability for my son. But Your Honor, Gianna wasn’t just convenient.
She was already family. She’d been part of our lives for three years, caring for Luca, supporting us through difficult times.
The marriage made legal what was already true in our hearts. ”
“And your feelings for your wife now?”
“I love her completely. She’s not just my wife. She’s my partner, my best friend, the mother my son needed and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. If I had to do it over again, I’d marry her tomorrow, custody case or no custody case.”
When it was my turn, I walked to the witness stand on unsteady legs, very aware of everyone watching, judging, trying to determine if my love was real enough to deserve legal protection.
As I passed Lyla’s table, I caught her eye for just a moment.
What I saw there surprised me, not the cold calculation I’d expected, but something raw and wounded.
She looked away quickly, but not before I glimpsed what this was really costing her.
Watching another woman raise her child, love her ex-husband, build the family she’d walked away from.
“Mrs. Marshall,” David began gently, “why did you agree to marry Colby?”
I looked out at the courtroom, at my mother sitting in the gallery with tears in her eyes, at Colby watching me with complete trust and love. And I told the truth.
“Because I couldn’t bear the thought of Luca losing his father. Because I’d already been part of their family for years, and making it legal felt right. But mostly because I’d been in love with Colby Marshall for three years and was too scared to admit it, even to myself.”
“And now?”
“Now I wake up every morning grateful that I get to be his wife and Luca’s mother. Now I can’t imagine my life without them. We may have started with a legal arrangement, but what we have now is a real marriage built on love, respect, and commitment to each other and to our son.”
“Even if it means facing criminal charges?”
I looked directly at Judge Morrison, the man who’d pronounced us husband and wife just three months ago. “Even then. Because some things are worth fighting for, and my family is one of them.”
When the testimony was complete, Judge Morrison called a brief recess to review the evidence. Colby and I sat in the hallway, holding hands and waiting to learn our fate.
“Whatever he decides,” Colby said quietly, “I want you to know that these past three months have been the happiest of my life.”
“Mine too.”
“If we get through this, I want to do it right. I want to propose to you properly, with a ring and flowers and all the romance you deserve.”
I laughed despite the circumstances. “We’re already married.”
“Then I want to marry you again. Every day for the rest of our lives.”
Before I could respond, David appeared. “They’re ready for us.”
We filed back into the courtroom, and Judge Morrison took his seat with an expression that revealed nothing.
“I’ve reviewed all the evidence and testimony presented today,” he began. “While the circumstances surrounding this marriage are unusual, the court must determine whether the current relationship constitutes a genuine marital bond.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as he continued.
“Marriage is not merely a legal contract but a commitment between two people to build a life together. While the initial motivation for this union may have been influenced by the custody proceedings, the evidence suggests that Mr. and Mrs. Marshall have indeed formed a genuine marital relationship.”
I felt Colby’s hand tighten around mine.
“The motion to declare this marriage fraudulent is denied. This court recognizes the marriage between Colby Marshall and Gianna Marshall as valid and genuine.”
The relief hit me so hard I nearly collapsed. We’d won. Our marriage was real in the eyes of the law because it was real in our hearts.
As people began filing out of the courtroom, I saw Lyla gathering her papers with mechanical precision. Her lawyer was speaking to her in low tones, but she wasn’t listening. She was watching something in the gallery, and when I followed her gaze, I saw what had captured her attention.
Luca had appeared beside my mother, his face bright with relief even though he didn’t fully understand what had just happened. He was bouncing on his toes, excited to see his parents, completely unaware of the legal battle that had just concluded.
“Mom! Dad!” he called out, waving enthusiastically. “Mrs. Kay said you had to go to an important meeting. Are you done now? Can we go home?”
For a moment, Lyla’s composure cracked completely. I saw grief there, and regret, and something that looked like recognition that she’d gambled with her son’s happiness and lost. When Luca noticed her watching and gave her a tentative wave, she managed a smile that seemed to cost her everything.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, her voice carefully controlled. “How was school?”
“Good! We learned about butterflies, and I drew a picture. Want to see?” He dug into his backpack with the unselfconscious enthusiasm of a child who still believed his mother cared about his artwork.
“I’d love to see it,” Lyla said, and for just a moment, she looked like the mother Luca remembered instead of the woman who’d been trying to tear his family apart.
But I knew the real victory wasn’t legal recognition. It was the family we’d built, the love we’d chosen, and the future we were finally free to embrace without fear.
We were going home, all of us, together.