The receptionist looked me over like she was trying to guess whether I was lost or delivering cables. "Do you have an appointment?" "Yes," I said. "With Richard Morgan, Lauren Walker's counsel."
Her eyebrows lifted just a fraction, but she buzzed me in. The conference room was sleek, cold, and polished, a place designed for intimidation. Lauren sat at the long table, pale makeup, stiff posture, hands clasped like she was meeting with a pastor instead of the man she'd betrayed. She didn't meet my eyes.
Next to her sat Richard Morgan, mid-50s, expensive suit. The confident posture of a man who wins arguments by talking long enough that people forget what the original point was. "Ethan," he said, tone dripping with the false warmth lawyers use when they've already decided you're the problem. "We called this meeting because we're concerned about the malicious rumors circulating in town."
"Rumors harming my client's reputation and professional standing." Lauren stared straight ahead, jaw tight. Morgan went on. "Your behavior, spreading unverified personal information, constitutes defamation."
"We'd like to resolve this amicably before it escalates." I listened, calm, hands folded, not interrupting, letting him think he was driving. When he finished, I took out my phone and placed it on the table. Not slammed.
Not dramatic. Just set it down like a tool. "Is that so?" I asked. "Defamation."
Morgan nodded. "Yes. Fortunately, we're willing to negotiate before taking action." I opened the screen, scrolled once, and looked up at Lauren.
"Before we negotiate, let's clarify the facts." I started reading. Not embellishment. Not interpretation.
Her own emails. Timestamped. Sent from her personal account, sometimes during office hours. Messages to Brad setting up meetings at our house.
Laughing about me being clueless while I worked late. Jokes about using the office printer for personal schedules. Morgan's expression shifted like a man watching a foundation buckle beneath him. "Ethan, that's private," Lauren started, but her voice cracked.
I kept going, calm, steady, not raising my voice. Then I switched to the financials. Her investment losses. The silent siphoning from our joint account.
The spreadsheet showing she used company time and resources to track her trades. Morgan leaned back, eyes narrowing, calculating. "Mrs. Walker, is this accurate?" Lauren swallowed.
Her facade collapsed inch by inch. "Richard, I... I can explain." But she couldn't. Not really.
Not to him. Not to me. Not to herself. I set the phone down.
"So when you say defamation, what exactly am I supposed to be lying about?" Silence. Heavy. Truth-shaped.
Morgan cleared his throat, shifting gears. "Perhaps... perhaps we should reconsider the approach here."
"I already have," I said. "On Monday, I filed for divorce. I will enter all of this into the record unless we reach a settlement that reflects reality." Lauren finally looked at me, eyes wet, a mix of shock and panic.