There was no dramatic moment. No gavel banging. No speech about justice or karma or getting what you deserve.
Ezoic
The judge made her decisions. She signed her name. She said, “We’re adjourned.”
Ezoic
That was enough.
When we walked out into the hallway, Brian followed us.
“Nicole, wait.”
I stopped. I don’t know why. Habit, maybe. Nine years of stopping when he said my name.
Claire turned around before I could.
“Brian,” she said. “Communicate through counsel.”
He ignored her. He stepped around her and stood in front of me. His face was red now. Blotchy. His new navy suit didn’t look so good anymore.
“You made this look like I destroyed the whole house,” he said.
I stopped and faced him.
Eight months earlier, I might have argued. I would have cried, probably. I would have raised my voice and listed every single thing he’d ever done wrong, and he would have looked at me with that cool little smile and said, You’re being emotional, Nicole, and I would have felt crazy.
