Imani types a few more things on her computer while continuing to talk to me.
"Once we file, standing domestic orders go into effect automatically. That means neither of you can drain bank accounts, cancel insurance policies, rack up shared debt, dispose of marital assets, or make unilateral financial decisions without the other's consent or a court order."
I clear my throat, straightening in my seat.
"I want to remain in the house, with the boys. I don't want to disturb their routine any more than it already is. I've already talked to his parents about him staying there. Will that be okay?"
Imani's eyes meet mine, and she arches her brow, "Do you think he'll agree to that?"
Today, when I walked into their house to drop off the boys, I was immediately wrapped up in Emmett's bear hug.
Obviously, Diane had let him know what was going on, and he did not seem pleased with his son. He murmured that everything would be okay, and then growled something about putting his size fourteen straight up his ass.
I'd been too busy clapping my hands over Noah's ears to shield his delicate little sensibilities while watching Liam nearly pee himself laughing.
They didn't really know who the him their grandfather was talking about, but the growling tone and curse words were funny enough to my boys.
Diane had kissed my cheek and told me good luck with the consultation as Emmett shepherded the boys outside to play.
Before I left, though, Liam shot me a look over his shoulder; it was soft, knowing, and oddly steady for a young teenager, as if he had some idea where I was going. It was one of the things that gave me the strength to walk through the doors.
Maybe my son does understand, in a way.
"I don't think he'll have a choice," I admit to Imani now. "I think he'll go. And if he refuses..." I pause, giving her a pointed look. "I think his mother and father will convince him. In their way."
"Huh..." Imani smirks, amused. "I like the sound of them."
I smile. "They're great."
Imani snaps back into business without missing a beat, the warmth still there but the focus sharpened.
"When he responds to the filing through his attorney, we'll request temporary orders—custody, child support, and spousal support. The court will review his income, pay stubs, benefits, retirement accounts, and overall financial picture. Full financial disclosure will be mandatory. He won't be able to hide anything, so if he has a secret account he's been using, we'll find that too."
I nod in understanding, but my stomach coils tight at the implication. The thought of him hiding anything from me—a secret account, money funneled away, used on someone else—makes my chest constrict.
I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to picture this potentially fictional, younger, beautiful woman with my husband. My stomach rolls violently, and I force myself to breathe through the nausea.
Imani asks softly, "Are you okay?"
I nod, wordlessly. Imani pages her assistant to get me some water, and I gratefully take it, realizing it contains mint leaves that help soothe my stomach.
"You think of everything," I rasp, gesturing to the water.
"When you've been doing this as long as I have," she shrugs, casually. "You pick up a thing or two. Would you like me to continue?"
I nod.
"The judge will make an equitable decision based on what is fair. Let me be very clear, Wendy: you are owed money. You didn't just stop working, you raised a family and managed a household. The only reason Atlas could work the hours he did—especially now—is because you were managing the children and the home."
I know this, and I'm not arguing it. I'm not going to continue to martyr myself anymore. I will get what my children deserve, what I deserve. I'm going to continue working to make my ownmoney to support my children on my end, while Atlas supports them on his.
Co-parenting, partnership. Not married anymore, but we share two children, so we'll be forever linked no matter what.
"And the court will look very favorably on you getting a job," Imani adds, her smile warm and encouraging."Veryfavorably. Getting a job demonstrates initiative, responsibility, and an intent to contribute. That works in your favor—it does not absolve him of spousal or child support obligations."
I allow that praise to settle around me, along with the quiet, inward pride blooming in my chest.
"So," she asks gently but decisively, "do you want me to proceed?"
