I snorted. “I think that only happens in romance novels.”
“Why can’t this be a romance novel?”
“Robert puts a real damper on the plot,” I said. My gaze drifted to the photo on my lap, and I released a little gasp.
Alicia hummed a long note, clearly seeing what I saw.
A professional photo of the restaurant’s kitchen, taken for marketing purposes and featuring Lucas and me. We stood shoulder to shoulder at the prep station, each holding a finished dessert and smiling widely. My head was thrown back in laughter, and there was a smudge of flour on my nose. Lucas’s eyes were on me. The look on his face stole my breath.
“Soph,” Alicia said softly. “That’s not the look of a man with a possible crush. That’s the look of a man who’s head over heels.”
And that photo was instantly my favorite of all time.
On the day of the pretrial, I dressed in the same black ensemble I’d worn to my mother’s funeral, though ending the marriage seemed more like an occasion for a bright-pink party gown.
Alicia and Ilona rode with me to the courthouse and promised they’d wait on a bench in the hallway for as long as it took. I told themthere wasn’t any reason to come. I had no idea how long a pretrial might last. They insisted this was what family did for one another. It didn’t matter what occurred in the courtroom today—they had my back.
And plans for tacos and margaritas immediately following.
Camilla insisted on coming as well, but she was running late.
My greatest hope was that Robert and I could settle on a fair division of assets so I’d finally be free of him.
The attorneys spoke with the judge privately before Robert and I entered the courtroom. We were sworn in, then seated. The facts of the case were stated. Then my attorney stood and declared my entitlement to half of all cash, retirement, investments, and assets, as well as a portion of Robert’s paychecks in the form of spousal support for the next eighty-four months, based on the length of our marriage.
His attorney submitted a formal verbal agreement to our terms, then reminded everyone that we were flat broke.
The judge congratulated us on our willingness to come to reasonable decisions on our own and declared the paperwork would be written up for our signatures.
My heart rate increased, because it sounded like we might avoid a trial.
Jill shot me a sharp, knowing smile. She rose as Robert’s attorney sat, and she pressed her palms to the table.
I braced for her to announce the findings from my forensic accountant. I hadn’t heard from them yet, but maybe they’d called her directly. My hands balled into fists, fingernails biting into my palms as I waited. I let my eyes shut and sent up a prayer.
Please tell him to fuck completely off with that nonsense. Amen.
“Just a moment.” Robert’s lawyer spoke before mine.
My eyes opened and sought the source.
“Your Honor, if I may?” he asked.
The judge looked to my attorney, as if asking if she’d allow the interruption. It was her turn, after all.
Jill turned to me.
I raised my brows, because she was kidding, right? I had no idea what was happening.
She sat, then waved her outstretched arm. “Please.”
Robert’s attorney had passed his phone to Robert, whose initial shock grew into a grinch-worthy sneer. I was sure I heard the voice of Virginia’s Secrets coming from the device. Robert nodded, and icicles prickled my skin.
The judge whacked her little hammer. “Mr. James. Do you or don’t you have something to add?”
“I do, Your Honor. Regarding Ms. Bianco’s finances,” the attorney said. He lifted his chin and adjusted his jacket. “We ask that her full income be considered when determining the amount of support.”
The judge squinted. “It’s been established that Ms. Bianco is employed part-time, and her financial documentation will be included in all relevant discussions. If there’s something more you mean to say, get on with it.”
