Chapter 8 - What He Offered, and What I Told Him
Derek's lawyer set a meeting for the following Thursday. Marta told me to go.
"Let them show their hand first. Don't offer anything. Don't agree to anything. Just sit there and listen."
It was a neutral office downtown — a long conference table, too many chairs, a window looking straight at a parking garage.
Derek was already there when we walked in, next to a lawyer I didn't know. Young, dark suit, introduced himself as Trent and shook hands like a man who did this every single day.
Derek looked at me when I sat down. I looked back. Thirteen years. Four kids. A baby we buried. And now this table.
Trent opened a folder. "We appreciate you making the time. Our client would like to settle this without a hearing."
"We're listening," Marta said.
"Mr. Maddox acknowledges that certain financial decisions were made during the marriage that weren't communicated. He's prepared to offer a supplemental settlement — a lump sum — in exchange for withdrawing the fraud petition and agreeing not to pursue further action."
He said a number. It wasn't small.
Marta didn't react. Neither did I.
"And the recordings?" Marta said.
Trent glanced at Derek. "Our client would ask that those stay private. As a condition."
"The recordings are evidence in a separate matter," Marta said. "A paternity and harassment case. We couldn't suppress them there even if we wanted to."
Trent's face shifted a little. "We understand there's a related situation. Our client is prepared to handle that through the appropriate channels, separately."
"He's prepared to acknowledge paternity?" Marta said.
A pause. "He's prepared to discuss it."
"That's not the same thing."
Derek leaned forward. He'd been letting Trent run the room, and I watched the exact second he decided to stop. I'd seen it a hundred times — the moment his patience ran out and he switched over to leaning on people directly.
"I want to talk to her," he said. To Trent, but looking at me.
"Derek—" Trent started.
"One minute." He looked at Marta. "Can we have the room for one minute?"
Marta looked at me. I nodded.
The two lawyers stepped into the hall. The door didn't latch all the way. I could see their shapes through the frosted glass.
Derek looked at me across the table. "You got what you wanted. The wedding didn't happen. Nicole's gone. There's lawyers all over it now. What else do you need from me?"
"I didn't want any of this," I said. "I wanted my marriage. I wanted my family. You're the one who made the choices that ended both."
"I made mistakes—"
"You opened a hidden account. You threatened a woman with a seven-month-old. You told her you knew her landlord by name." My voice stayed level. "Those aren't mistakes. Those are things you sat down and decided to do."
He was quiet a moment. "What do you want."
It came out different that time. Lower. Stripped down.
"I want the settlement reopened and corrected for every dollar that was moved," I said. "I want Noah acknowledged legally and support paid through a court. And I want those recordings to go to Bethany's lawyer, because she has every right to use them."
"Those recordings end me."
"You made them," I said. "I didn't."
He sat back. For a second he looked like the man I married — not the version I'd loved, the one under that, the one I'd started catching glimpses of near the end. Tired. Boxed in. Out of angles.
"If I agree to the correction," he said slowly, "and the paternity — will you at least talk to Bethany? Ask her to keep the recordings out of anything public?"
"I'll tell her you asked," I said. "That's all I can do. It's her call, not mine."
He nodded. Once. Like something had closed.
The lawyers came back in. The next hour was numbers and dates and document lists and a framework Marta would put in writing before anyone signed anything. Derek barely spoke. Trent did the talking.
When it wrapped, Derek stood and put his jacket on. At the door he stopped and turned back.
"For whatever it's worth," he said, "I know what I cost you. I'm not sure I understood it before. I understand it now."
I didn't answer.
He left.
Marta gathered her papers. "That went better than I expected."
"He's still going to try to shrink the paternity piece," I said.
"Yes. But we have a framework and he knows we won't fold. That changes everything about how this negotiates." She clicked her briefcase shut. "You did well in there."
May you like
I looked at the empty chair across the table. "I just told the truth."
"That's usually the hard part," she said.
