Harrison leaned toward me when the court reporter was busy adjusting her equipment at the front of the room. “You should just sign the settlement papers and disappear while you still have a shred of dignity left,” he whispered.
He told me to be grateful that he was even letting me walk away with a small percentage of what he owned. I could feel my baby move under my ribs, and that tiny sensation was the only thing that kept me from collapsing into a heap of tears.
I looked directly into his cold eyes and told him quietly that I was not asking for anything unreasonable or greedy. Tiffany let out a sharp laugh that echoed through the silent courtroom and caused the bailiff to look in our direction.
“Fairness is a funny concept for someone who trapped a successful man with a convenient pregnancy,” she said while looking me over with pure disgust. She told me I should be thankful he had not cut me off completely the moment I decided to move out of the estate.
Something inside of my spirit finally cracked under the weight of her insults. “Do not speak about my child or my intentions,” I said with a voice that shook but remained audible.
Tiffany’s smug smile vanished instantly as she stepped toward me with a speed that I could not have anticipated. The slap landed across my face with a sound so sharp that it seemed to stop time for everyone in the room.
My cheek burned with a stinging heat, and I felt the metallic taste of blood inside my mouth. I instinctively moved my hand to protect my stomach before I even realized what had actually happened.
For a long moment, the entire courtroom was paralyzed by a heavy and suffocating silence. Harrison did not move to intervene, and Tiffany did not look regretful as she smoothed her dress.
Even the bailiff stood frozen near the door with an expression of pure shock on his face. Harrison finally broke the silence with a quiet laugh and muttered that this was exactly the kind of instability he had been dealing with for years.
That was the moment I stopped feeling the familiar sting of embarrassment. I felt something much worse than shame because I realized I was becoming invisible in a room full of people.
A pregnant woman had just been assaulted in open court, and my own husband was trying to use it as evidence of my mental decline. I looked down at my shaking hands and noticed the folder was vibrating against the wooden surface of the table.
