Chapter 12 - A Lawyer's First Question
Miriam didn't ask whether I still loved Adrian. She asked whether I had consented to a motion vacating our divorce judgment.
“No.”
“Did you sign a sworn statement?”
“No.”
“Did a judge question you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then don't accept his description of your legal status. Send me the paper, and don't sign anything else.”
Adrian stood beside the window, listening. His jaw worked once before he said, “My legal team said we could petition jointly.”
“Petition,” Miriam repeated through the phone. “Not obtain an order without the other party. Claire, photograph every page.”
I did. Beneath the impressive seal was a clerk's filing acknowledgment and an emergency motion stamped RECEIVED. No signed order. No finding by a judge. I felt the sting of anger arrive a moment after the relief.
“You knew the distinction,” I told him.
“I knew what counsel intended to request.”
“You told Vanessa we were married. You let me stand there believing you had rewritten my life.”
Adrian didn't defend that part.
Outside, a waiter rolled a silver cart down the corridor. The ordinary rattle of cups made the room feel suddenly ridiculous. I was sixteen weeks pregnant, standing in a hotel suite while powerful adults argued over who had permission to call me somebody's wife.
May you like
Miriam gave me an address for her midtown office. “I'll have an associate wait downstairs. You can stay with me tonight, or go home. Your choice.”
That last sentence steadied me more than anything Adrian had said.
