He glanced toward Blake.
“My client did not lose trust because of infidelity, finances, or ordinary marital conflict. She lost trust because, when she believed she and her unborn children might die, the one person who had promised to protect her chose to leave.”
Then he sat down.
The judge turned to Blake.
Blake stood slowly.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve written that a thousand times in letters I never sent. I kept thinking if I could find the right words…”
He shook his head.
“There are no right words.”
Part 3:
He swallowed.
“I listened to my mother my whole life. I thought keeping her happy was my responsibility.”
His shoulders dropped.
“But the day you needed me, I chose them over you. I will regret that for the rest of my life.”
His eyes moved toward the two infant carriers beside my chair. Both girls were asleep, unaware that the adults around them were trying to repair damage done before they had even taken their first breaths.
“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he said softly. “I only hope that one day they know I never stopped loving them.”
I looked at him.
I had imagined that moment many times. I had rehearsed speeches in my head. Angry ones. Cold ones. Perfect ones.
But when the moment came, I let all of them go.
“They’ll know you loved them,” I said. “But they’ll also know that love means nothing if it disappears the moment someone needs you most.”
His face crumpled.
The judge removed his glasses and signed the final order.
“Mrs. Harrison, the marriage is dissolved. Sole legal and physical custody of the minor children is awarded to the mother. The father shall have supervised visitation until further order of the court. The temporary protective order is made permanent as to Diane Harrison.”
The pen touched the page.
“It is so ordered.”
