Ezoic
“No, Your Honor,” he said finally.
Brian leaned over and whispered something urgent into his ear.
Pruitt shook his head. A small, tired shake.
Brian sat back in his chair. He looked at the ceiling.
The judge denied Brian’s request for a reduction.
She didn’t make a speech. She just read her decision in a flat, even voice, looking down at her papers.
The documented damage became part of the financial accounting used to resolve the remaining asset division. Every repair estimate. Every bill. The water. The drywall. The subfloor. The water heater. All of it came out of Brian’s share.
The house remained mine. Free and clear.
And the financial consequences of what he’d done were placed exactly where they belonged.
Several other disputes that Brian had dragged out for months, the couch, the second car, the savings account, the pension split, finally ended that afternoon. The judge went down the list and ruled on every one of them, one after another, like she was clearing off a desk.
