Chapter 20
Our first mediation session is this morning.
It is being held in a conference room at town hall. Jeremy hired the mediator, but I ran it past Ezra, and he said that he knew the woman, and it sounded fine. So at least there’s that.
I spend even more time on my appearance than I did the day I met Stefanie Gorman.
It takes me an hour to do my makeup in the mirror, trying to create the perfect effect of not wearing any makeup.
The results are pretty good, if I do say so myself.
I don’t have the money for a new outfit, but I iron and press my best dress suit.
Jeremy used to love this suit, because he said it showed off my figure and my legs.
Truth be told, it’s a tiny bit tight now, but as long as the seams don’t split, I’ll be fine.
I’m feeling pretty damn good about myself until I pull up at town hall just in time to catch Jeremy and Veronica making out in the parking lot.
Okay, they’re not full-on making out. Not like the other night on the front porch. But it’s definitely more than just a quick peck on the lips like he used to give me every morning. And then when they separate, they just stare into each other’s eyes for like fifteen seconds.
I want to barf.
Jeremy disappears into the town hall building, but Veronica lingers on the sidewalk. She takes her phone out of her purse and types something into the screen. Whatever it is makes her smile.
I sit in my Lexus, hoping she’ll go back into her car so I don’t have to interact with her. But she’s just standing there. And I don’t want to be late for the mediation session, so I don’t have a choice but to walk past her.
Maybe if I walk quickly, she won’t even notice me.
But of course, that was clearly wishful thinking. The second I approach the town hall building, Veronica’s eyes snap up and lock with mine. A smile spreads across her face.
“Naomi!” she says. “It’s so good to see you again!”
Is this girl serious? She told my husband that I threatened her the last time we saw each other, when she was the one who made all those weird remarks about choking. But what am I supposed to do? Cause a scene right outside our divorce mediation?
So I say nothing. I hope Veronica takes the hint, but instead, she keeps talking.
“I finally met Teddy the other day,” she tells me. “Oh my gosh, what a sweet boy! We got along really well.”
Does it make me a bad person to say I hoped he would hate her? Fine, I’m a bad person then.
“We were talking about his birthday,” she continues, even though I have not said one word to her, not even hello. “He’s going to be six, right? It’s such a fun age. Jeremy and I were thinking we could have a big party for him in the backyard. And you could come, of course.”
“Oh, really?” I swivel my head in her direction, unable to hold back anymore. “I’m allowed to come to my own son’s sixth birthday? That’s so kind of you to invite me.”
Veronica doesn’t bat an eye at my outburst. “Well, Jeremy and I will be the ones organizing and hosting the party. You’re welcome to come, but you don’t have to, of course.”
I want to punch her in the face, but that probably wouldn’t turn out too well for me. And also, I don’t want to be late for my first mediation session. That wouldn’t look good.
Instead, I turn away from Veronica and walk up the steps to town hall.
The conference room where we are meeting is on the second floor.
I take the stairs, and the building is so big that I’m worried I won’t be able to find it, but the second I get up there, I find my lawyer—who instructed me to call him Ezra—standing in the hallway, looking down at his phone.
He is, thankfully, wearing a suit, and his tie is miraculously tied this time. He even shaved.
Unfortunately, his more kempt appearance is undermined by the fact that he is carrying the largest briefcase I’ve ever seen.
It’s almost as if he took all the papers that were in his office yesterday and stuffed them inside.
It’s so packed that it looks like it’s one seam away from exploding everywhere.
“Ah,” he says when he spots me. “I was just about to text you. Your husband is in there, and we’re ready to start.”
“Sorry,” I say. “I got a little distracted in the parking lot. I ran into that woman…”
Ezra snorts. “Oh yeah, I saw the lip-lock when I was coming in. Real professional.”
It makes me feel better that he thinks the same thing I did. “Well, she’s gorgeous.”
“Eh.”
“She’s objectively gorgeous.”
“If you like that type,” he says in a way that makes it clear that he absolutely does not like that type. “Anyway, you ready for this?”
I hug my arms to my chest. “Honestly? No.”
“Okay, well, I’d think you were lying if you said yes.
” He flashes me a sympathetic smile. “Look, this is not going to be an easy process. Even in the best of divorces, there’s always some amount of arguing about what’s fair.
And it can be heart-wrenching. Believe me, I’ve been on both sides of it. ”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re divorced?”
“Yep,” he says, although he doesn’t offer any more information about that. “So trust me when I say I know what I’m talking about. You ready?”
“Wait.” I dig into my purse and pull out a translucent crystal, which I had nestled in one of the inner pockets. “Could you keep this with you when we go in there?”
I expect him to roll his eyes like Jeremy does when I offer him crystals. But instead, he takes it and holds it up to the light. “What is it?”
“Clear quartz,” I say. “It’s great for attracting luck. It attracts positivity and repels negativity.”
He nods and shoves it in his pocket. “Sounds like just what we need.”
I follow Ezra down the hallway to a small conference room.
There are already three people inside—one is Jeremy himself, wearing another expensive business suit, then the female mediator at the head of the table, and then I presume the man sitting next to him is his attorney, Leonard Hardwick.
Based on his silver hair, Hardwick looks like he has at least twenty more years of experience than my own more youthful attorney, and there’s something very intimidating about him. I wish he were on my side.
I sit down across from Jeremy, who glances at me once, then exchanges a meaningful look with his lawyer. Ezra takes the seat next to mine and drops his briefcase on the table next to him.
The mediator starts the meeting, introducing herself to the group as Alana Ocasio. She doesn’t look like the sort of person who will tolerate any crap, which I appreciate. “And I’m Lenny Hardwick,” Jeremy’s lawyer says in a gravelly voice.
“This is my client, Naomi Roth,” Ezra says, “and I’m Ezra Fletcher…although we have already met before, haven’t we, Mr. Hardwick?”
Hardwick doesn’t acknowledge their prior meeting, although he looks like he just put something rancid in his mouth.
“For starters,” Ezra says, “I want to point out some rather irregular behavior on the part of Mr. Roth here. My client has informed me that Mr. Roth moved all the money out of their joint accounts subsequent to filing for divorce. I think we could agree that this is inappropriate behavior, and it shows an act of bad faith.”
“That’s not true,” Jeremy speaks up. “The money is in the accounts.”
“You’re lying!” I look over at Ezra helplessly. “He’s lying. He moved the money.”
“Would Mrs. Roth care to check the balance of the account right now?” Hardwick suggests.
I whip my phone out of my purse and bring up my banking app. It takes me a second to get logged in, and I expect to see that same $25 balance. But instead, like magic, all the money has returned.
My mouth falls open. “But…it wasn’t…”
Great. Now I look like a liar. I look over at Ezra, who doesn’t even seem to be paying attention. He’s just digging around in his briefcase for some reason. But then he pulls out a sheet of paper and slides it across the table to Jeremy and his attorney.
“This was the balance of the account five days ago,” he announces. “Twenty-five bucks. I see that somehow, magically, the money has returned just in time for this mediation session. But, Mr. Hardwick, I hope you will tell your client that these games are not appreciated.”
“Mr. Fletcher is right,” our mediator, Ocasio, says. “Mr. Roth, you should not be behaving in bad faith.”
Wow.
Hardwick shoots Jeremy a sharp look, and he mumbles an apology. I glance over at Ezra, who winks at me. I was so scared of getting a lawyer, but now it feels nice that somebody has my back for a change.
We go over the terms of the prenuptial agreement, and it seems like Ezra has a problem with every part of it.
Hardwick is holding his own, but at the same time, Ezra manages to break his composure several times.
He’s ripping that prenup to shreds. At one point, he’s reading a paragraph of it out loud, then he shakes his head and turns to Jeremy and says, “Who wrote this? You?”
Jeremy’s face turns a bit pink, and he looks like he’s going to respond, but then Hardwick touches his shoulder, and he keeps his mouth shut.
“Anyway,” Ezra says, “I think it’s clear to all of us that many elements of this prenup do not fall into the realm of what Mrs. Roth should have ever been asked to sign.”
“There’s room for negotiation,” Hardwick says stiffly after a loaded pause.
“That’s what I thought.”
I want to throw my arms around Ezra Fletcher and hug him.
I was trying not to think about how panicked I was over that prenup.
All it gave me was a small sum of money for each year of our marriage, barely over six figures total.
Certainly not enough to live on—maybe just barely enough to tide me over until I get my medical practice started again.
“And then there’s the matter of custody of Theodore Roth,” Hardwick says.
My heart speeds up. I’m hoping that we can agree that I will get full custody of Teddy. But since Jeremy is a good father, I would certainly like him to be able to spend a lot of time with our son. It’s something I’m willing to negotiate on.
And then Jeremy says something that shocks me. Something that changes everything:
“I want full custody of Teddy,” he blurts out.