Ariana Grande sat curled up on the couch, her phone lying face down beside her, its screen dark and silent. The room felt too big, too quiet without the usual sound of Y/N's giggles or the soft hum of conversation that once filled the space between her and Dalton. She glanced at the clock, realizing how quickly time had slipped away that day. Y/N would be up from her nap soon, her tiny footsteps pattering through the house, calling for "Mommy" in that sweet, melodic voice Ariana loved so much.
But despite Y/N's warmth and joy, there was a storm brewing that Ariana couldn't avoid anymore. The legal battle with Dalton had started quietly, but now it loomed over her, threatening to change everything. What had once seemed like a mutual agreement to co-parent peacefully had quickly spiraled into something far more complicated.
Dalton wanted shared custody.
Ariana closed her eyes, trying to block out the flood of emotions that came with that thought. She had known this was coming, of course. They had discussed their roles in Y/N's life before the divorce was finalized. But somehow, the reality of it—the lawyers, the court hearings, the fear of not having Y/N by her side every single day—was something Ariana hadn't fully prepared for.
It wasn't that she didn't trust Dalton to care for their daughter. He loved Y/N deeply, and she knew that. But there was something about the idea of not being able to tuck Y/N into bed every night, or not waking up to her sleepy eyes in the morning, that filled Ariana with an overwhelming sense of dread. She'd always imagined being there for every moment of Y/N's childhood, never missing a milestone, a birthday, or a first. The thought of losing time with her daughter—even if it was to Dalton—felt unbearable.
The first time Dalton mentioned wanting equal custody, Ariana had remained calm. They had sat across from each other at the kitchen table, Y/N asleep upstairs, and discussed the logistics. Dalton's voice had been steady but determined, as he explained that he wanted to be just as much a part of Y/N's life as Ariana was. He didn't want to be a weekend dad, showing up once in a while and fading into the background. He wanted to be there for school drop-offs, for doctor's appointments, for every laugh, every tear, and every scraped knee.
Ariana had understood, in theory. But in her heart, the thought of being separated from Y/N for days at a time made her stomach churn. She had tried to explain this to Dalton, but he had only grown more frustrated. "I'm her father, Ari," he had said, his voice rising slightly. "I deserve time with her too. This isn't about you or me anymore—it's about what's best for Y/N."
That phrase, *what's best for Y/N,* was a constant refrain in their arguments. Ariana knew that shared custody was considered the "fair" arrangement, and that legally, Dalton had every right to ask for it. But she also knew that Y/N was so young, and the idea of shuttling her back and forth between two homes seemed too much for a two-year-old to handle. Ariana feared that Y/N would grow confused, unsettled, not understanding why Mommy wasn't there sometimes, or why Daddy was suddenly a part-time figure in her life. She feared Y/N would feel torn between them, even though she was too young to fully grasp the situation.
As the legal discussions intensified, Ariana found herself growing more anxious. The media had already caught wind of their split, and the paparazzi lurked outside her home more often than usual, waiting for a glimpse of her, for a hint of drama. She had always been protective of Y/N, keeping her out of the public eye as much as possible, but now, with the divorce proceedings in motion, it felt harder to shield her from the inevitable speculation.
One night, after putting Y/N to bed, Ariana had sat alone in her room, staring at the stack of legal documents on her desk. Her lawyer had advised her to prepare for a court battle if they couldn't come to an agreement soon. Dalton's team was pushing for 50/50 custody, and while Ariana had initially hoped they could negotiate something that allowed her more time with Y/N during her early years, it seemed increasingly unlikely that Dalton would budge.
She had picked up her phone that night and dialed Dalton's number, her heart racing as she waited for him to answer. When he did, his voice was tired, as if he had been expecting the call but dreading it just as much as she had.
"We need to talk," Ariana had said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Not through lawyers. Just us. About Y/N."
There was a long pause on the other end before Dalton spoke. "Okay. I'm listening."
Ariana took a deep breath. "I know you want to be with her just as much as I do. And I get that. But she's so young, Dalton. I just don't think it's a good idea to split her time 50/50 right now. She needs stability."
"And you think I can't give her that?" Dalton's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made Ariana's chest tighten.
"That's not what I'm saying," she replied quickly. "It's just...she's used to being with me all the time. I think it would be hard for her to adjust to—"
"Ari, I'm her father. I'm not some stranger she's never seen before," Dalton interrupted, frustration creeping into his tone. "She knows me. She loves me. And I want to be there for her, not just for weekends or when it's convenient for you."
Ariana's hand tightened around the phone. "It's not about what's convenient for me," she said quietly. "It's about what's best for her."
"And you think keeping her away from me is what's best?"
The conversation had ended in a tense silence, neither of them willing to back down. Ariana had cried herself to sleep that night, her heart aching not just for herself, but for Y/N, caught in the middle of a situation she didn't understand.
In the weeks that followed, Ariana did everything she could to keep things normal for Y/N. She still took her to the park, made her favorite snacks, and read her bedtime stories every night. But as the court date loomed closer, the anxiety in Ariana's chest grew heavier. She knew that this was no longer just about her and Dalton—it was about their daughter's future.
One morning, as she dressed Y/N in her favorite yellow dress, Ariana found herself overwhelmed by the realization that soon, these moments wouldn't belong solely to her. She wouldn't be the one to hold Y/N's hand every day, to be the first to comfort her when she fell. She would have to share those moments with Dalton, and while she knew it was fair, the thought of it still stung.
The day of the custody hearing arrived faster than Ariana had anticipated. She sat in the courtroom, her lawyer by her side, while Dalton sat across from her, his expression unreadable. They listened to the lawyers argue, to the judge ask questions, but the entire process felt surreal. Ariana couldn't focus on the legal jargon being thrown around; all she could think about was Y/N, sitting at home with her nanny, blissfully unaware of the battle happening in her name.
When the judge finally ruled for joint custody, Ariana's heart sank, though she had known it was coming. Dalton would have Y/N for half of the week, and Ariana for the other half. It was fair, everyone said. It was what was best for Y/N, they all insisted. But as she left the courtroom that day, Ariana felt like she had lost something she couldn't quite put into words.
That evening, as she sat in Y/N's room, watching her daughter sleep peacefully, Ariana whispered a promise to herself. She would make this work, for Y/N's sake. No matter how hard it was, no matter how much it hurt to share her daughter, Ariana knew that Y/N deserved the love of both her parents.
They would find a way forward—one step, one day at a time. Even though the family they had once been was now fractured, their love for Y/N would remain whole. And in that love, Ariana hoped, Y/N would always feel safe, no matter how much the world around her changed.
