I considered the question honestly. "I'm sorry you were used. I'm not sorry about the consequences." "Fair enough," she said, accepting my honesty.
She finished her coffee and stood to leave. "For what it's worth, I hope you find someone who deserves what you have to offer. Someone who sees your kindness as strength instead of weakness." After she left, I sat alone in the coffee shop, watching the city move around me. Six months ago, I'd been a man whose life was built on trust and shared dreams.
Now I was a man who'd learned to protect himself first and trust second. That evening, I called Marcus. "Webb and Hartwell," I said when he answered. "I'm in."
One year after the divorce was finalized, I stood in the main conference room of Webb and Hartwell, watching Austin's legal and business community mingle at our grand opening reception. The firm had exceeded every projection we'd made. In 12 months, we'd handled 43 prenuptial agreements, 37 asset-protection cases, and 22 divorces for high-net-worth clients. "David, there's someone here to see you," Marcus said, appearing at my elbow, his expression carefully neutral.
"She's waiting in your office." I found Delaney sitting in the client chair, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. She'd changed again in the months since our coffee-shop encounter. Her hair was shorter, styled professionally, and she wore a simple black dress that looked expensive but not new.
"Delaney," I said, taking my seat behind the desk. "David," she replied. "Thank you for seeing me." She reached into her purse and withdrew an envelope, cream-colored paper with my name written in her careful handwriting.
"I wrote you a letter. I think this one says what I need to say." I took the envelope but didn't open it. "Why now?"
"Because I saw the news about Lucas Cain, and I realized something," she explained. "You didn't just save yourself from my betrayal. You might have saved other marriages from similar destruction." I'd seen the news coverage.
Lucas Cain had been arrested on multiple charges of harassment and exploitation. His pattern of targeting married women was finally exposed. His career was over, his reputation destroyed. "That wasn't my intention," I said.
"No, but it was the result," she replied. "By refusing to be my victim, you helped expose him as a predator." She gestured toward the envelope. "It's all in there."