Chapter 7 - The Courtroom
The finalization of the divorce didn't take long.
When one party has an iron-clad legal team and the other party is terrified of going to prison, negotiations tend to move quickly.
We met at the mediator's office a month later to sign the final decrees.
I walked into the polished, mahogany-lined room wearing a tailored white power suit.
I looked rested, glowing, and completely untouchable.
Bradley sat across the table, looking like he had aged ten years.
He was wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt. He had dark circles under his eyes and a nervous tick in his jaw.
Arthur sat beside me, placing the thick stack of papers on the table.
Bradley's court-appointed lawyer—the only one he could afford—looked at the papers and sighed.
“My client is prepared to sign the uncontested divorce agreement,” his lawyer mumbled.
Bradley picked up the pen. His hand was shaking.
He looked across the table at me, his eyes pleading for a shred of mercy.
“Maddie,” he whispered. “Five years. Doesn't any of it mean anything to you?”
I looked at the man I used to love.
I thought about the dinners I cooked, the debts I paid, the constant belittling I endured.
And then I thought about the freezing black water of the pool.
“It means a lot to me, Bradley,” I said softly.
A tiny glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes.
“It means I finally learned my worth,” I finished. “Sign the papers.”
The hope shattered.
He looked down at the documents, tears hitting the paper as he signed his name over and over again.
He signed away his rights to the house.
He signed away any claim to my business.
He formally admitted to the financial discrepancies, agreeing to a repayment plan that would garnish his minimum-wage wages for the next fifteen years.
When the final signature was placed, the mediator stamped the document.
“It's done,” the mediator said. “You are officially divorced.”
I stood up, buttoned my blazer, and shook the mediator's hand.
Bradley stayed in his chair, his head buried in his hands.
As I walked toward the door, I stopped and looked back at him one last time.
“Oh, and Bradley?”
He looked up, his eyes red and pathetic.
May you like
“Tell your mother I said hello.”
I walked out of the room, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind me.
