Chapter 12 - Victoria’s Last Move
Victoria’s trial began in March.
I had hoped never to see her again.
Then I was subpoenaed.
The courtroom was packed with reporters when I walked inside wearing my red coat.
Victoria noticed immediately.
Her mouth tightened.
She remembered that color.
Alexander sat behind the prosecution team because he had also agreed to testify.
When I took the stand, Victoria’s attorney attempted exactly what Rebecca predicted.
He portrayed me as emotional.
Vindictive.
A rejected wife who spent more than two hundred thousand dollars in one night.
“Thirty-seven purchases?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Because your husband went to dinner with another woman?”
“Because he told me I could buy whatever I wanted.”
A few people laughed.
The judge silenced them.
The attorney smiled. “And you interpreted that literally?”
“Yes.”
“Would a reasonable spouse?”
“I had spent two years interpreting my husband generously. I decided to try literally.”
Even the judge looked down to hide a reaction.
Then came the important questions.
The signatures.
The surveillance.
The insurance.
I answered everything.
Victoria stared at me throughout.
When Alexander testified, it became harder.
His attorney asked when he discovered the forgery.
“The night of the gala.”
“Did your wife know about the trust clause before your marriage?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
I stared at him.
He continued.
“I knew the trust rewarded a marriage lasting three years.”
The courtroom blurred.
Rebecca leaned toward me.
Alexander had told me he knew about the clause.
But hearing it under oath felt different.
“Did that influence your decision to marry Erin?”
A long silence.
“Yes.”
My chest cracked open.
Alexander looked directly at me.
“It influenced the timing.”
The prosecutor asked, “Would you have married her without it?”
“Yes.”
“How can you know?”
“Because losing the trust eventually became the easiest thing I lost.”
His eyes remained on mine.
“The difficult thing was losing her.”
I looked away.
Victoria was convicted on multiple fraud counts six weeks later.
She received a sentence that included prison time, restitution, and permanent removal from fiduciary positions.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded us.
Alexander shielded me instinctively, then stopped.
He looked at me.
“Do you want help?”
Such a small question.
Such an enormous change.
“Yes.”
He took my hand.
Cameras flashed.
That photograph went everywhere.
Not the billionaire and his wife.
Not the scandal.
Just two people holding hands after surviving something ugly.
That evening, Alexander came home with me.
We sat at the round oak table.
“I heard your testimony.”
“I know.”
“The trust influenced when you proposed.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“That’s not enough.”
“No.”
He looked down.
“I wanted to marry you. My grandfather’s deadline was approaching. I convinced myself moving faster didn’t matter because I already knew what I wanted.”
“But I didn’t know.”
“No.”
“That means I didn’t get to make the same decision.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I began crying.
“So even the beginning wasn’t clean.”
“No.”
He reached across the table, then stopped before touching me.
I looked at his hand.
Then placed mine inside it.
“But maybe,” I whispered, “the next beginning can be.”
He looked up.
I pulled the divorce papers from my desk.
For a moment, hope moved across his face.
I tore them in half.
Alexander stopped breathing.
“This is not going back.”
“I know.”
“We don’t return to our old marriage.”
“I don’t want it.”
“If we do this, we start over.”
His eyes filled.
“From zero?”
“From zero.”
May you like
He smiled through tears.
“I can work with zero.”
