But in the end, it was Alex who saved her. One night, Joe and Alex had both fallen asleep on the couch. Bella was cleaning up when she noticed Alex curled up, hugging something close.
She thought it was Cupcake, his teddy bear. But it wasn’t. It was Joe’s phone.
Unlocked. A kids’ game running on mute in the background. She gently took it, ready to set it aside.
But by accident, her thumb moved on the screen—and the game closed. Up popped something else. An email.
Subject: Custody Proposal
Bella’s heart stopped. She scrolled with shaking fingers. “To move forward with transferring parental rights from the biological mother…”
She couldn’t breathe.
And then, she saw Joe’s reply:
“Bella is not mentally stable anyway. She plays the doting mom but has no boundaries. Will keep documenting.
Once finalized, she won’t see him again.”
He was talking about her. To a lawyer. Planning to take Alex away completely.
And then she found more. A thread of emails with someone named Samantha. “Who the hell are you, Samantha?” Bella whispered, heart pounding.
Not a coworker. Not just a friend. Samantha was Joe’s mistress—and part of his plan.
They were talking about a life together, without Bella in it. “When will she be handled?”
“When can we finally have a fresh start, Joe? Just us and Alex.”
“I just want her gone.
I’m tired of pretending she’s part of our family.”
Bella felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. Joe had told Samantha that Bella was “emotional,” “unstable,” and “unfit.” That she’d be easy to discredit in court. He even said he’d find a therapist to help frame her as the problem.
He wanted Alex—the little boy Bella had named after her grandfather—to be theirs. That night, Bella tucked Alex into bed gently. She gave him Cupcake, turned on the nightlight, and kissed his forehead.
Then she went back to the living room and sat in the dark, staring at the man she thought would protect her. The man who was secretly planning to destroy her. She didn’t scream.
She didn’t argue. She planned. But the next morning, Joe made his move.
He stood in the kitchen like it was just another day, pouring coffee. Calm as ever. “I’ve spoken to a lawyer, Bella,” he said casually.
“Do we have any chocolate chip muffins left? Or just banana?”
Bella stood frozen. Had he really just said that?
“I want a divorce, Bells,” he added like it was a grocery order. “And I’ll be filing for full custody.”
She opened her mouth but no words came out. Joe didn’t flinch.
He didn’t yell. He just poured milk into his coffee like it was done. Like her role as Alex’s mother was already erased.
“I think it’s what’s best for Alex,” he said, and walked out. Over the next six weeks, Bella transformed. She stopped arguing.
Smiled more. She acted softer, quieter, and agreeable. She cooked his favorite foods.
She backed off when he accused her of hovering. She pretended to give in. And when he suggested she try therapy for her “attachment issues,” she agreed.
“You do whatever you need to do, Bella,” Joe told her. “I’m divorcing you. It’s good for you to remember that.”
“Oh, I remember,” Bella replied calmly.
“Therapy’s for me, Joe. Not for you.”
And it was the smartest decision she ever made. Because the therapist she chose wasn’t just any therapist.
She was a forensic psychologist, an expert in high-conflict custody battles. A woman who trained others to fight back with facts and legal strength. Bella gave her everything: screenshots, emails, texts, voice memos.
She recorded every moment Joe tried to isolate her. Every time he tried to make her question her memory or doubt herself. The therapist built a timeline.
She called in a team. She got Bella her own lawyers. They prepared—silently, carefully.
Then came mediation day. Joe walked in like he’d already won. Polished shirt.
Arrogant smile. He didn’t even look at Bella. Just sat down like he owned the room.
What he didn’t expect? Bella’s lawyer sitting beside her. Her therapist too.
And a binder the size of a brick. They slid it across the table. It hit the wood with a soft thud.
Joe opened it. He turned a few pages. And then?
His face drained of color. Because that binder held everything: lies, emails, manipulation. The entire plot, laid out in black and white.
He brought lies to the battle. Bella brought truth. Joe had used his work email like a fool.
He’d left his phone unlocked around a four-year-old. He forgot the “unstable” mom he described had built a rock-solid case with professionals ready to testify. Bella’s team explained what would happen next if he didn’t back off: court, investigations, complaints to his workplace, even Samantha’s job at risk.
Joe cracked. His shoulders slumped. He stared at the table like it might swallow him whole.
Then came the act. “I want what’s best for Alex,” he said quietly. “We can work something out.
Shared custody, maybe?”
It would’ve been laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic. Bella didn’t blink. She leaned forward.
“I won’t take you to court,” she said, voice calm. “I won’t ruin your job. I won’t humiliate you.”
Joe looked hopeful.
“But,” she added coldly, “only if you sign over custody. Fully. Like you planned.”
Joe froze.
Then he sighed. And he signed. No fight.
No apology. No more plans. Now, Bella and Alex live in a small two-bedroom apartment.
The ceilings creak. The paint peels a little. But there’s peace.
There’s joy. Sunday pancakes shaped like stars. Living room forts.
Dancing barefoot in the kitchen without anyone telling them to stop. Sometimes, Alex crawls into bed and asks, “Where did Daddy go?”
And Bella always answers the same:
“He let us go, baby.”
No hate. No fire.
Because Bella let go too—of the man who tried to erase her, of the woman she was before. And now? She sleeps easy.
Because no one will ever take her son away again.
