Chapter 28 Lila #2
“Mrs. Fischer,” she says, her voice neither warm nor cold. “I understand you’re seeking an absolute divorce from Eli Fischer, currently awaiting trial on multiple charges including assault and attempted sexual assault.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Speak up, please,” she instructs, not unkindly.
I clear my throat. “Yes, Your Honor.”
She shuffles through some papers. “And you’re not seeking any financial settlement or division of property?”
“No, ma’am,” I say, standing straighter now. “I don’t want anything from him. Not the house, not the car, not his money. Nothing.” I pause, then add, “Except my books from my library in the house. Those are mine. They’ve always been mine.”
Something in the judge’s expression softens slightly. “I see. And Mr. Fischer is not contesting the divorce?”
“No, Your Honor. He’s been served the papers in jail, and his lawyer indicated he won’t contest it.”
Of course he won’t. Eli’s fighting much bigger battles now. The assault charges, the attempted rape charges, and whatever else the police are investigating. A divorce is the least of his worries.
The judge makes a note, then looks up at me again.
“Mrs. Fischer, I’ve reviewed the circumstances of your case, including the police reports and hospital records.
” Her gaze drops to my wrist, where the bandage has been removed but a faint discoloration still lingers.
“Based on the evidence of extreme cruelty and the ongoing criminal case against your husband, I’m granting your petition for absolute divorce, effective immediately. ”
The relief hits me so hard I actually sway on my feet. Valerie’s hand steadies me as the judge continues.
“You’ll be notified if Mr. Fischer is moved to a different facility or if he’s released on bond, though given the severity of the charges, that seems unlikely.
You’re free to collect your personal belongings from the marital home at any time, though I’d recommend having a police escort if you’re concerned about your safety. ”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I manage, blinking back tears.
“And Mrs. Fischer,” she adds, “or I should say, Ms. Angelo now?”
I nod, the sound of my maiden name strange but welcome.
“I wish you all the best.” She bangs her gavel once, gently. “Case closed.”
Just like that, it’s over. Ten years of marriage dissolved in less than fifteen minutes. I turn to Mia and Valerie, both of them beaming at me, and the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over.
“Come on,” Mia says, pulling me into a quick hug. “Let’s get out of here.”
We push through the heavy courtroom doors and back into the hallway, which seems brighter somehow, less oppressive. I feel lighter with each step, as if I’ve set down a weight I’ve been carrying so long I forgot it was there.
Outside, the sun is shining; the air crisp winter air hits differently now. I stop at the top of the courthouse steps, breathing deeply, filling my lungs with free air.
“How does it feel?” Valerie asks, watching me with a smile.
“Weird,” I admit. “Good-weird, but still weird. I keep waiting for it to hit me that I’m really divorced.”
“Maybe you need a divorce party,” Mia suggests as we head back to the car. “We could invite the whole print shop crew, get a cake shaped like Eli’s head and stab it repeatedly.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “That’s dark, even for you.”
“Just an idea,” she says, grinning. “Consider it on the table.”
Back at Mia’s house, they hover for a bit, making sure I’m okay before leaving me alone with my thoughts. Valerie heads back to open the print shop for the afternoon, while Mia retreats to her home office to catch up on paperwork, but not before making me promise to tell her if I need anything.
I curl up on the couch, still in my court clothes, staring at my phone. It’s time. No more waiting, no more excuses. I’m free now, legally and completely free. My finger hovers over his contact for a long moment before I finally type:
Me: It’s done. The divorce is final. I’m ready to see you now, if you still want to meet.
His response comes almost immediately, as if he’s been waiting by his phone:
Unknown Number: Name the place and time.
My heart beats faster as I type:
Me: The bookstore. Tonight at 7?
Another quick response:
Unknown Number: I’ll be there. No masks this time. Just me.
I set the phone down, my hand trembling slightly. After all this time, I’m finally going to see his face again. But as I stare out the window at Mia’s backyard, where the few trees outside are now bare, I realize something strange: I already know who he is.
Little clues have been adding up. Things Mia has said, the way she sometimes looks at her phone with an expression I can’t quite read, the “family emergency” that pulled her away from the hospital the night Eli attacked me.
And sometimes, when he texted me, I can almost hear the voice from the bookstore, from my back steps, from the club, and at Akira Sushi.
Tonight, I’ll know for sure.