It had been a whirlwind two months since Jake showed up at Charlie's door with a backpack, a game console, and a bowl of choco crunchies. That single act set in motion a storm that changed the Harper family forever.
Charlie was not used to courtrooms, lawyers, and affidavits. He was used to bed, beach, and recording sessions. Yet somehow, he ended up sitting through weeks of hearings about custody, parenting, and whether or not he was capable of being a role model for a ten-year-old boy.
Lisa, Laura and even Kate decided to support him and testified.
The court weighed every word. They considered Alan's testimony too.
Alan had followed Irina's instructions to the letter. In front of the judge, he admitted the painful truth: he was financially unstable, his marriage had collapsed, and he was not in a position to give Jake the stability he needed. Then, he revealed Judith's behavior—her indifference when Jake disappeared, her refusal to call the police, her obsession with yoga instructors, and her complete neglect of her son's needs.
Judith fought like a cornered animal. She accused Charlie of being a fraud, a drunk hiding behind charity receipts. She claimed Alan was exaggerating to save face. She tried to spin herself as a misunderstood mother. But her words crumbled under the weight of facts. Charlie's clean medical reports, his financial records, his stable household, and his long list of charitable contributions painted a picture that was impossible to refute.
The final ruling came down like a hammer.
Charlie Harper was granted full custody of Jacob Harper.
Alan Harper received visitation rights: six hours every Saturday, supervised at first, later extended once he proved himself consistent.
Judith Harper received nothing.
The courtroom buzzed with whispers. Judith looked like someone had slapped her across the face with a wet towel. Alan, for the first time in months, looked strangely relieved. Charlie sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, wondering how on earth he had gone from a singer to legal guardian of his nephew.
...
The custody battle was only the first act. One month later, Alan filed for divorce. Again.
Judith came into the courtroom with fire in her eyes. She wanted everything—alimony, the house, compensation for her suffering, maybe even Alan's spine if she could figure out how to monetize it. She painted herself as the long-suffering wife who had put up with Alan's incompetence for years.
Alan, coached by Irina, played his part perfectly. He admitted his flaws openly, but he also highlighted Judith's infidelity, her reckless spending, and her neglect of Jake. He reminded the court of her behavior during the custody battle. Irina shredded Judith's every argument until nothing was left but smoke.
Judith demanded an obscene amount of alimony, but the court laughed her numbers out of the building. The final settlement landed at 1100 dollars a month.
Then came the house.
Judith wanted it. No—she needed it. The idea of Alan keeping the family home burned her pride like acid. She pushed for it, demanded it, and smiled triumphantly when Alan agreed without hesitation. He told her he'll give the full responsibility and ownership of his house.
She signed the papers with a large grin, barely glancing at the stack Irina slid across the table. By the time the hearing ended, Judith was glowing. She strutted out of the courthouse with the keys in hand, convinced she had won.
Alan left quietly. His face gave nothing away, but Irina caught the flicker of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
That afternoon, Judith popped champagne in her freshly "won" home. She pranced through the living room, humming, imagining Alan sulking somewhere in a dingy apartment. She raised her glass to the ceiling.
"To Judith Harper," she said to herself, "the woman who always wins."
Then she opened the mail.
There it was. A thick envelope from the bank, addressed to "Homeowner." She tore it open, skimmed the first page, and froze.
Mortgage balance: 426,000 dollars.
Monthly payment: 3,200 dollars.
Late fees pending: 900 dollars.
Her smile collapsed. She flipped through the rest of the papers. Loan documents. Transfer agreements. Signatures. Her signatures. She had signed them all this morning, in such a rush to claim the house that she hadn't read a single line.
Judith dropped the papers on the table, her hands shaking. "No… no, no, no…"
The truth hit her like a freight train. She hadn't won the house. She had inherited a mountain of debt. She was now responsible for every cent of Alan's mortgage, every late fee, every loan attached to the property.
Alan had walked away clean.
...
[Charlie's house]
Meanwhile, Alan sat in Charlie's kitchen, sipping tea like a man who had just been reborn. He apologized to Charlie for his earlier behavior and thanked him for taking care of his son and saving him again.
"So," Charlie said, leaning back in his chair, "let me get this straight. You gave her the house… but what you really gave her was over four-hundred-thousand-dollar booby trap with a bow on top?"
Alan tried to hide his grin, but it was impossible. "Yes. And it was Irina's idea. She handled all the paperwork. Judith was so eager to rub it in my face, she signed everything without reading. By now she's probably choking on her cucumber water."
Charlie laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee. "Oh my God. You actually won something for once. You know, you're like a cockroach that fell into a jar of peanut butter and somehow crawled out with a crown."
Alan raised his cup in a mock toast. "To Irina. The only woman who's ever had pity on me."
Lisa walked in just in time to hear the tail end. She smirked. "Irina had pity, huh? That's a first. Normally, she wanted to set you on fire after you messed up the first time."
Alan sighed dramatically. "Trust me, I'm still in shock. For once, Judith got exactly what she deserves. She thinks she won, but she's about to drown in debt."
Charlie leaned forward, grinning. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I'm proud of you, Alan."
Alan blinked, then looked suspicious. "Really?"
Charlie shrugged. "Yeah. Took you thirty years, but you finally played the game right. Of course, you didn't come up with the idea. Irina handed it to you like a coloring book. But still. Baby steps."
Alan groaned, but even he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.
"Oh, don't smile. I ain't letting you stay here," Charlie said with raising his coffee mug. "Find your own place."
"Oh, c'mon, Charlie. Just let me in for a couple of days... Weeks tops... Between my job and finding an apartment... Maybe a month," Alan delivered his usual classic dialogue.
"Yeah, nope. You still have your office. Live there till you figure it out. Oh, you can stay for dinner. That much I can do," Charlie said, leaning back.
...
[Back to the bitch]
By evening, Judith was on the phone with her lawyer, screaming loud enough to rattle the windows.
"You didn't tell me about the mortgage! You didn't say a word!"
Her lawyer calmly reminded her that the papers were clear, the mortgage had been disclosed, and she had signed everything voluntarily. She had been warned to read before signing.
Judith's rage turned into desperation. Her "victory" had become a financial prison.
For the first time in her life, Judith Harper realized she had been outplayed. And the worst part? By Alan.
...
[November] [Harper Recording Studio, Los Angeles]
The studio was buzzing with music, chatter, and the smell of catered food that Jake had already attacked like it was his last meal on earth. Empty paper plates piled up in front of him as he stuffed another slice of pizza into his mouth.
Charlie leaned against the mixing console with a drink in hand, watching the chaos unfold with a proud smile. On the big monitor behind him, the album cover for "Sins & Blues" glowed in bright letters. Prudence's face filled the artwork. Beneath it, a scrolling ticker announced: #6 Most Listened Album of the Year.
Prudence stood at the center of the room, her glass of juice raised high. She looked gorgeous in a glittery blue dress that hugged her figure. "To Sins & Blues!" she declared. "And to the man who made it possible—Charlie Harper!"
The room erupted into cheers. Glasses clinked, people whistled, and Jake mumbled with his mouth full, "Woohoo, go music!" before diving into a tray of chicken wings.
Berta clapped like a proud grandma. She was glad that atleast someone from her family turned their life around.
Lisa smiled from across the room, her eyes soft as she watched Charlie take a small bow. Laura whooped loudly, leaning on the couch with her arm draped over the backrest. Kate clapped with a smile, as though she had always known Charlie had it in him. Lilly was running around with a balloon, along with the other kids that the studio members brought to the party. Cheryl Ann, Prudence's mother, raised her champagne like she was at a wedding reception.
A few minute later...
Prudence slid over to Charlie. She leaned close, her lips brushing his ear. "So," she whispered, "you remember your promise? The one where you said, if I make it, you'd finally give me a real date?"
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