The judge leaned forward. "Mrs. Carver, is this you texting, 'You make spreadsheets sexy'?" Belinda froze. Her lawyer opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. "I... I can explain."
"No need," the judge said, closing the folder. "I've been married three times. I know that look." A few snickers rippled through the courtroom. I kept my face neutral, but inside I was doing cartwheels.
Mrs. Delgado stood. "Your Honor, in light of this overwhelming evidence, we request that my client retain full ownership of the marital property and all financial accounts. Mrs. Carver's actions demonstrate a clear breach of marital trust and misuse of shared funds." Belinda's lawyer scrambled.
"Your Honor, we contend that Mr. Carver's behavior since the incident, specifically his vindictive tone, has caused undue emotional distress to my client." The judge looked at him like he just asked her to babysit on a Friday night. "Emotional distress?" she said.
"Sir, your client was doing the electric slide with her boss in a hotel bar. I'd call that cardio, not distress." Even the bailiff chuckled. Mrs. Delgado smirked.
"We rest our case." Belinda shot me a glare sharp enough to slice marble. I just smiled politely, like a man watching karma finish dessert. The judge shuffled through some papers, made a few notes, then looked at both of us.
"Here's what's going to happen. Mr. Carver retains ownership of the house, vehicle, and all joint accounts. Mrs. Carver forfeits claim due to breach of fiduciary and marital trust." Belinda gasped.
"That's not fair." The judge shrugged. "Neither was your extracurricular activity. Next case."
Bang. Gavel down. It was the sound of freedom. I exhaled.
The kind of deep exhale that feels like you're letting go of a ghost. Mrs. Delgado turned to me, her grin subtle but victorious. "Congratulations, Mr. Carver," she whispered. "You're officially a free man."
"And for what it's worth, you handled that beautifully." "Thanks," I said. "I owe you coffee and maybe a commemorative trophy." She laughed.
"Buy me a latte and we'll call it even." Belinda stormed out of the courtroom before I could say anything. Heels clacking against the tile like punctuation marks of defeat. I waited until she disappeared around the corner before letting out a long, satisfied sigh.
Outside, the air felt fresher, lighter. Divorce shouldn't feel like a victory, but damn, it tasted like one. I called Tar. "Bro," he said, "tell me the judge loved the video."
"She did," I said. "She called it cinematic." Tar whooped so loud people turned to stare. "I'm adding that to my résumé. Editor of Legally Admissible Heartbreak Content."
"Put it under special skills," I said. "So, you're free now?" "Free and well documented."