Chapter 9 - The Settlement
Six months later, in the sunlit, top-floor conference room of Pendelton, Vance & Associates, the final divorce settlement hearing concluded in less than fifteen minutes.
Conrad sat on one side of the long mahogany table, wearing a plain off-the-rack suit he had purchased at a department store. He had lost fifteen pounds. His hair was untrimmed, his face hollow, his former arrogance completely erased, replaced by a quiet, beaten exhaustion.
He was currently working as a junior document reviewer for a small insurance firm in Tacoma, earning a fraction of his former salary, living in a one-bedroom apartment near the highway.
Across the table sat Miriam.
She looked breathtaking. Her skin was healthy, her eyes bright, a light tan from a recent vacation to Greece with Blythe visible against her white silk blouse.
Beside her sat Arthur Pendelton, closing a blue leather binder.
“Mr. Vance,” Arthur said, his tone crisp and final. “Under the terms of this finalized decree, you waive all rights to the Bainbridge estate, the corporate stock portfolio, and any spousal support claims. In exchange, Mrs. Vance agrees to withdraw the secondary civil fraud claim regarding the expense reports.”
Conrad didn't look at Arthur. He kept his eyes fixed on Miriam—the woman he had thought he could manage, manipulate, and take for granted forever.
“Miriam,” Conrad said, his voice quiet, hoarse, entirely devoid of his former polish. “Can... can I just speak to you for one minute? Alone?”
Arthur started to object, but Miriam raised a slender hand, stopping him softly.
“It’s fine, Arthur,” Miriam said. “Give us two minutes.”
Arthur and Conrad’s public defender stood up, gathering their papers, and walked out of the conference room, closing the heavy frosted-glass doors behind them.
The room was silent, save for the faint hum of the city traffic forty floors below.
Conrad leaned forward, resting his hands on the table, his knuckles white.
“Miriam... I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears welling in his red-rimmed eyes. “I know that doesn't fix anything. I know I was a monster. But... I lost everything. My career, my home, my name... everything.”
Miriam looked at him calmly. There was no hatred in her eyes. No malice. No bitter triumph.
There was only a vast, cool, unshakeable indifference—the kind of look one gives a stranger on a bus whose face you will forget ten minutes later.
“You didn't lose everything, Conrad,” Miriam said softly, her voice smooth and steady.
Conrad blinked, a faint ray of pathetic hope flickering in his chest. “What do you mean?”
“You still have your life,” Miriam said. “Which is more than you left me with seventeen minutes before midnight on New Year’s Eve.”
She stood up, buttoned her blazer, and picked up her leather handbag.
May you like
“Goodbye, Conrad.”
She walked out of the room without looking back.
