Chapter 12 - The Deposition
The conference room at the county family courthouse was stark and sterile, lit by humming fluorescent tubes that cast an unflattering, sickly glow over everyone present.
Julian sat across from me, flanked by an exhausted-looking, state-appointed legal aid attorney named Henderson. Julian had lost at least fifteen pounds; his suit hung loosely on his shoulders, his jaw was covered in uneven, patchy stubble, and his eyes were hollow, sunken pits surrounded by dark purple bruising.
When I walked in with Marcus, Julian’s glare was venomous.
"Let the record show," Marcus stated clearly into the microphone of the court reporter’s recording device, "that this deposition is convened pursuant to the uncontested divorce proceedings of Sterling versus Mercer. Present are the petitioner, Elise Sterling, counsel Marcus Vance, the respondent, Julian Mercer, and counsel Arthur Henderson."
Henderson cleared his throat nervously, adjusting a stack of poorly organized papers. "My client... Mr. Mercer... is prepared to sign the dissolution decree under specific conditions. Namely, a lump-sum rehabilitative spousal support payment of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and unsupervised weekend visitation with his daughter, Maya."
Marcus didn't even blink. He didn't even shuffle his papers.
"Denied in its entirety," Marcus said flatly. "Mr. Mercer is entitled to zero spousal support under the prenuptial agreement, which specifically bars any alimony in the event of documented infidelity and financial crimes. Furthermore, unsupervised visitation is completely off the table."
Julian suddenly lunged forward against the table, his knuckles turning white. "She’s my daughter! You can't keep me from my daughter! Elise, look at me! Look at me, damn it!"
I looked at him directly. There was no fear left in me, only an infinite weariness.
"I am looking at you, Julian," I said calmly. "And all I see is a man who was willing to gamble away his daughter’s security to impress a twenty-four-year-old girl in a hotel lobby."
"You set me up!" Julian snarled, his voice rising, ignoring Henderson’s frantic tugs at his sleeve. "You set that trap with the phone call! You invited our families to that dinner just to butcher me in public! You’re a psychopath, Elise! A cold-blooded, heartless bitch who never loved me!"
"Mr. Mercer, control yourself," the court mediator warned sharply from the end of the table.
Marcus reached into his leather briefcase, pulled out an audio speaker, and placed it in the center of the mahogany table.
"If the respondent wishes to contest the terms of the custody agreement," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a deadly, rhythmic cadence, "we are prepared to submit the unredacted digital recording from October 14th into the public court record. Specifically, the audio where Mr. Mercer explicitly states, and I quote: *'I can't stand touching her. The second she has this baby, I'm taking everything she has and leaving her with nothing.'*"
Julian’s mouth hung open. The room went dead silent.
Henderson looked at Julian, sighed deeply, and leaned back in his chair. "Julian... sign the agreement. If this goes into a public hearing, the judge will issue a permanent protective order and you’ll walk away with zero visitation for five years."
Julian looked from Marcus to Henderson, and finally to me. The raw, manic hatred in his eyes was terrifying, but underneath it lay the crushing realization of total, irreversible defeat.
His hand shook violently as he took the pen from his attorney. He signed his name on the dotted line of the decree of absolute divorce.
He pushed the paper away as if it burned him, grabbed his battered coat, and stormed out of the conference room without looking back.
"It’s done, Elise," Marcus said quietly, turning to me with a reassuring hand on my arm. "The decree will be signed by the judge this afternoon. You are officially, legally free."
I took a deep breath, believing the nightmare had finally reached its final chapter.
May you like
I was wrong.
***
