Chapter 8 - The Deal That Could Destroy Him
Charles claimed Dominic personally authorized the staged fall.
Dominic denied authorizing physical contact.
The recording we possessed was ambiguous.
Charles said, “We should create a visible incident.”
Dominic replied, “Do what you need to do. No harm to the baby.”
Was that authorization?
A prosecutor might say yes.
Rebecca said the legal risk was real.
Dominic’s criminal lawyer advised him to negotiate immunity by cooperating fully against Charles.
Dominic refused.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because immunity requires me to minimize my responsibility.”
“That sounds like exactly what rich men do.”
“I know.”
“Then do it.”
He looked at me.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Elias will someday know.”
My chest tightened.
“He doesn’t need courtroom transcripts at age five.”
“No. But I need to be someone who can look him in the eye at fifteen.”
That answer scared me because it sounded like growth.
Dominic eventually signed a cooperation agreement without immunity.
He admitted directing employees to create misleading declarations.
Admitted concealing medical information from me.
Admitted attempting to prepare a custody strategy before Elias’s birth.
Denied ordering physical harm.
Vanessa supported that distinction.
Charles insisted otherwise.
The case moved forward.
Meanwhile Elias grew.
Three pounds fourteen became four pounds two.
Then four twelve.
Then five.
His arrhythmias stabilized with medication.
The first day he breathed without supplemental oxygen, I cried for an hour.
Dominic cried for twenty minutes and then claimed the hospital air irritated his eyes.
“Coward,” I told him.
“Absolutely.”
We had started speaking normally.
That frightened me.
Some evenings we sat beside Elias without discussing lawyers.
Dominic told me about board disasters.
I told him Maya was threatening to publish a handbook called How to Identify a Sociopath Before He Gets a Yacht.
He laughed.
“You always liked her.”
“I respected her hostility.”
“She hates you.”
“She hated me before everyone else discovered it was fashionable.”
One night, Dr. Reyes found us laughing.
He smiled.
“Good. Stress reduction is useful.”
Dominic immediately became suspicious.
“Are you prescribing my wife laughter?”
“Your estranged wife?”
I almost smiled.
Dominic looked annoyed.
Dr. Reyes looked amused.
Later Maya said, “The cardiologist likes you.”
“No.”
“He does.”
“Stop.”
“He’s handsome.”
“I am still legally married.”
“To a man who called you a toy.”
“Thank you for the reminder.”
“Anytime.”
I did like Dr. Reyes.
But liking kindness after chaos can be mistaken for romance.
I knew better.
Then came the custody hearing.
Not full custody.
Temporary parental arrangements while the criminal investigation continued.
Dominic’s lawyer argued he deserved unsupervised time with Elias after discharge.
Rebecca opposed overnights initially.
The judge reviewed evidence.
Then asked Dominic directly:
“Mr. Callahan, did you previously attempt to create evidence portraying your wife as mentally unstable?”
“Yes.”
His own attorney looked pained.
“Why should I trust you now?”
Dominic answered:
“You shouldn’t based on my word.”
The judge leaned forward.
“Then what?”
“Use supervision. Use therapists. Use medical professionals. Make me prove it.”
I looked at him.
The judge granted gradual supervised parenting time.
Dominic thanked her.
No tantrum.
No appeal.
Another small thing.
Another dangerous sign that the man I loved might still exist inside the man who betrayed me.
Afterward, Dominic approached me.
“Thank you for not asking them to bar me completely.”
“I considered it.”
“I know.”
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
“I still don’t trust you.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
“You say that a lot.”
“You created a situation where repetition helps.”
“Fair.”
Then his phone rang.
His criminal attorney.
Dominic answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“Charles has a recording.”
My stomach dropped.
“Of what?”
Dominic ended the call.
His voice came out quiet.
“The night I decided to divorce you.”
I froze.
“What about it?”
“He recorded the conversation.”
“With whom?”
“My mother.”
“What did she say?”
Dominic looked sick.
“She told me you had been sleeping with someone else.”
I stared.
“What?”
“I believed her.”
The room tilted.
“I never cheated.”
“I know.”
“Who?”
“She said your translator in Naples.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“Matteo? He’s gay.”
“I know now.”
“You divorced me because you believed I was infertile and cheating?”
His face crumpled.
“Yes.”
I had thought we had reached the bottom.
Apparently betrayal had basements.
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Did you ask Matteo?”
“No.”
“Did you ask anyone?”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“You really never trusted me.”
His eyes filled.
“No.”
May you like
That admission hurt more than denial.
And suddenly I no longer knew whether any amount of change could make me love him safely again.
