I sat on a plush area rug, watching six-month-old Maya giggle as she rolled a soft wooden ball back and forth between her hands. Her bright blue eyes met mine, bursting with pure, innocent joy.
My divorce had been finalized in record time.
Faced with irrefutable evidence of marital misconduct, corporate fraud, and dissipation of marital assets, Julian’s legal team had collapsed under pressure. The court awarded me sole physical custody of Maya, full ownership of our home, and substantial child support. Furthermore, Julian was ordered to repay the twenty-five thousand dollars he had illegally drained from our joint savings to fund his affair.
Without a job, a home, or a corporate reputation, Julian’s downfall had been absolute.
Chloe had dumped him three weeks after they were both fired, realizing that without his executive salary and company expense card, he was just an unemployed, thirty-something divorcee living in his mother’s spare room.
