Epilogue #2
He couldn’t image what it would’ve been like to be married to Stacey, or any of the others who’d come before her, when he decided he didn’t want to be there anymore.
No way would he ever let that happen. Being able to walk away—any time he wanted, with his head held high and his conscience clear—was key to his survival in the fucked-up world in which he lived and worked.
Every day, he witnessed what people who were once madly in love did to destroy each other—and the children they swore they loved more than life itself.
He’d found that most didn’t love their kids nearly as much as they hated their ex.
Julian wanted nothing to do with that for himself, and neither did his siblings. While they enjoyed bickering with each other as if it were a blood sport, that was the one thing they all agreed on.
After seeing his one serious ex-girlfriend, Aimee Godfrey, recently at her parents’ fiftieth anniversary celebration, Julian had been deeply unsettled to realize the feelings he’d once had for her were still there.
They’d resurfaced from the deepest, darkest corners of his soul to remind him of how helpless love could make you, especially when it didn’t work out.
Aimee was long married to a guy named Trent Morgan, who worked in finance and was some sort of whiz kid when it came to investing, or so he’d heard. They had three beautiful kids, a son and two daughters, and a happy life that seemed to suit her.
She’d gotten lucky.
Julian made a lucrative living off the fact that most people were unhappy and not afraid to do whatever was necessary to get free of the person they’d supposedly loved with all their heart once upon a time.
Being alone was better than taking a gamble that more than half the time ended in expensive failure. The Remington siblings had seen what that kind of failure looked like up close and personal, and they were all set, thank you very much.
Stacey would be okay. She’d find a nice guy who wanted a white picket fence in the burbs and a posse of kids.
That man was not, and would never be, Julian Remington.
An hour later, Julian was in Los Angeles County Superior Court, listening to Bryan McDavid and his attorney extol Bryan’s many virtues as an involved, caring, safety-conscious parent who should share in joint custody with his soon-to-be ex-wife and Julian’s client, Rachel McDavid.
Because he had all the evidence he needed to bury Bryan, Julian let him and his windbag attorney, Thomas Driscoll, have the floor for the first thirty minutes of the hearing.
Rachel wanted sole custody of their two sons due to Bryan’s angry outbursts that regularly frightened her and her children, among other concerns that Julian would bring to light when it was his turn to present their side of the argument.
Bryan had been unwilling to engage in mediation and had demanded a trial when the matter could’ve been quietly settled out of court for much less than the trial would cost them both financially and personally.
Nothing about this proceeding would be quiet, if Julian had his way.
Driscoll went on and on about the character references he’d obtained for Bryan, who was, by all accounts, an upstanding member of the community, a dedicated father to their two young sons and a well-respected auditor, expected to make partner at his CPA firm within the year.
“Mr. Remington and his client would have you believe that Mr. McDavid is one step above a deadbeat, when there’s ample evidence to the contrary. He should have shared custody of his sons and a reasonable visitation schedule. Thank you, Your Honor.”
Judge Michael Fallows glanced at Julian to give him the floor.
He’d been looking forward to this moment as he stood to hand one set of copies to Driscoll and another set to the judge. “Your honor, some new information has come to light in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Objection,” Driscoll said. “We’ve heard nothing about any new information.”
“We only found out about it yesterday,” Julian said. “And it’s highly relevant to the matter before the court.”
“I’ll allow it,” the judge said.
Turning to face Bryan McDavid, he said, “Do you recognize these posts?”
On each page was a post made to an X profile called Ramblr26, calling out Rachel as a neglectful mother and cheating wife.
“If you encounter Rachel McDavid,” Julian read from his copy as he watched Bryan begin to shift in his seat the way people did when they knew what was coming, “you should be aware that she presents herself to be one thing, when she’s someone else entirely.
She opens her legs to anyone who asks and doesn’t give a shit where her kids are when she’s doing it. ”
Fallows looked to Bryan, his expression full of shock and disbelief.
Excellent.
“Th-that’s not me.” Bryan directed a hard, hateful stare at Rachel, who kept her gaze focused straight ahead the way Julian had told her to.
“I have no idea who that is. Could be anyone with the way she gets around.” He had close-cropped blond hair, cold blue eyes, a goatee and a chip on his shoulder so big, it took up all the extra space in the courtroom.
“Is this your address?” Julian asked as he dropped another sheet of paper on the table in front of Bryan.
Bryan leaned in for a closer look. “You know it is. It’s all over the divorce paperwork.”
Julian approached the bench to deliver additional documents. “Your Honor, we’ve tied the IP address for Ramblr26’s accounts to Mr. McDavid’s home.” His team had worked until late the night before connecting the IP address to Bryan.
With a glance toward Bryan and his attorney, the judge reached for the documents while Julian sat back to watch the show. The only thing that would’ve made this better was popcorn.
While the judge reviewed the vicious, foul things Ramblr26 had written about the mother of his children, Driscoll leaned in to confer with Bryan in frantic-sounding whispers.
They’d learned about the posts from a mom at the boys’ school, a woman Rachel had never met, who’d called yesterday to tell her what was being said about her online.
When Rachel relayed the information to Julian, she’d been so full of outrage and disbelief that the man she’d once loved, to whom she’d given two beautiful sons, would say such vile things about her publicly when none of it was true.
She’d never once cheated on him, but he sure as hell couldn’t say the same.
Julian had proof of that, too, thanks to his investigator brother Carson, who’d put together a full report on Bryan’s extracurricular activities over the last four years. That report had been made available to Bryan’s team during discovery.
Julian didn’t care for the way Bryan was glaring at Rachel, clearly trying to intimidate her into backing down.
Not on his watch.
“Your Honor, this new information, coupled with the investigative report into Mr. McDavid’s extramarital affairs over the last four years, paint a damning portrait of a man who has no business being anywhere near two impressionable young boys.
In our opinion, the boys would be detrimentally affected by spending time with a man who speaks so disparagingly about their mother online and conducts extramarital affairs so frequently, we wonder how he’d find the time to care for his kids. ”
Bryan surged to his feet so quickly, his chair went crashing into the half wall behind him. “You fucking bitch!”
“Mr. Driscoll, please remind your client that language and behavior is not acceptable to this court, and unless he’d like me to end this right now without any further input from your side, he’ll sit down and stop taking.
If you continue to cause a disruption, Mr. McDavid, I’ll have you removed from this courtroom. ”
Driscoll moved quickly to retrieve the chair and plopped Bryan’s ass back in it before he made things worse.
Under the table, Julian put his hand over Rachel’s, which was cold and trembling.
He’d told her ahead of time what he planned to do and warned her to be ready for Bryan to get ugly.
But how could anyone prepare to have the person they’d once loved enough to marry and have children with talk to them that way in public?
Bryan was breathing hard and nearly foaming at the mouth with rage.
Good, Julian thought as he stared him down, let the judge see how he behaves when he’s angry. Maybe he’ll grant our request for full custody with a domestic violence restraining order that’ll keep him the hell away from her and their kids.
After about ten tense minutes, the judge put down the documents and looked at Bryan.
“This new information, in addition to what I’ve already read in the file, leaves me with no choice in this matter.
The horrible, hateful things you’ve said online about Mrs. McDavid, even if every word was true, are so revolting that I agree with Mr. Remington that joint custody is not in your sons’ best interest. Sole custody is hereby awarded to Mrs. McDavid, and I’m approving the request for a domestic violence restraining order that’ll prevent you from coming within one thousand feet of your wife and sons.
You’re also required to immediately surrender any firearms you may have in your possession. ”
Bryan let out a cry of anguish. “I never laid a hand on them!” He glanced frantically at his attorney. “How is this domestic violence?”
“Abuse doesn’t have to be physical in nature to count as domestic violence, Mr. McDavid,” the judge added. “Your behavior has disturbed the peace of your ex-wife and sons, which is a qualifying factor.”
“But I never hit her! She’s lying if she says I did!”
Driscoll told him to be quiet.