Chapter 8 - The Table Turns
The conference room at the city courthouse was cold, lit by humming fluorescent tubes that cast a sickly greenish pallor over Julian Bennett. He had been released on bail that morning, looking haggard, his clothes crumpled, sitting beside a court-appointed public defender who looked like he would rather be anywhere else on earth.
Julian wouldn't look at me when Eleanor and I sat down across from him.
Eleanor opened a black leather binder and placed a thirty-page document in front of Julian’s lawyer.
""Here are our terms for the uncontested dissolution of marriage,"" Eleanor said crisply. ""Mrs. Bennett receives one hundred percent ownership of the marital residence in Richmond, free and clear of any equity claims or liens from Mr. Bennett. Mrs. Bennett retains her entire 401(k), her consulting business assets, and her vehicle.""
Julian’s head jerked up, his eyes bloodshot and wild. ""And what do I get?! You're taking everything!""
""Let me finish, Mr. Bennett,"" Eleanor said, her voice cutting through the air like a scalpel. ""You will retain the funds currently held in Crestline Solutions—which, after court-ordered restitution to Mr. Cole and your former engineering firm, currently stands at approximately four thousand, two hundred dollars. You will also assume one hundred percent of the personal debt incurred on the three credit cards you opened under Crestline’s name.""
""Four thousand dollars?!"" Julian shouted, slamming his hand onto the table. ""I worked for fifteen years to build our net worth! We have over six hundred thousand dollars in total assets! You are leaving me with four thousand dollars and thirty grand in debt?!""
""Would you prefer a jury trial, Mr. Bennett?"" Eleanor asked, her tone conversational. ""Because if we go to trial, I will introduce into public record every text message between you and Mrs. Cole. I will introduce the lease for the Virginia Beach condo. I will call your former managing partners to testify regarding your fraudulent billing practices. And I will invite the IRS to audit every tax return you signed over the past five years.""
Julian turned frantically to his lawyer. ""Can she do this? Tell her she can't do this!""
The public defender sighed, adjusting his glasses and looking at Julian with utter weariness. ""Julian, she can do all of that and more. If you go to trial, you won't just lose the civil case; you will almost certainly be indicted by a grand jury for wire fraud and tax evasion based on the documentary evidence Mrs. Vance has assembled. You sign this agreement, or you spend the next five to seven years in federal prison. It’s that simple.""
Julian slumped back into his plastic chair, looking as if the air had been physically sucked out of his lungs. He stared at the pen lying beside the document.
Eleven years of marriage. Eleven years of shared meals, shared vacations, shared promises, and secret contempt.
He picked up the pen with trembling fingers. His hand shook so violently that his signature on the deed transfer and settlement agreement was barely legible.
When he finished, he dropped the pen onto the table and looked at me, his eyes hollow. ""Are you happy now, Claire? You got everything. You destroyed me completely.""
May you like
I stood up, smoothed down the front of my tailored wool coat, and looked down at the man I had once believed was my partner in life.
""You destroyed yourself, Julian,"" I said calmly. ""I just refused to pay for the damage.""
