(Caroline's POV)
Valentine's Day.
The irony isn't lost on me.
Five years ago, Samuel took me to an expensive restaurant on Valentine's Day and proposed with a ring that cost more than my car. I said yes with stars in my eyes, believing in love and fairy tales and happy endings.
Now, on Valentine's Day, I'm standing outside a courthouse fighting for custody of our son while our marriage burns to ash.
"You ready?" Aunt Jasmine asks.
I'm not. I'll never be ready for this. But I nod anyway.
The courthouse steps are crowded. At first, I think it's just the usual foot traffic—lawyers, defendants, families dealing with their own legal nightmares.
Then I hear the chanting.
"Save Charlie Daves!"
"Children need their fathers!"
"Gold digger go home!"
There's a group of about twenty people
