Chapter 7 - The Auction of Scars
Six weeks later, the civil dissolution hearing of Brian Sterling and Claire Sterling was called to order in Room 402 of the Denver District Court.
Brian sat at the defense table, wearing a faded orange prison jumpsuit, his wrists shackled to a chain around his waist. His hair had grown out greasy and unwashed; his cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken and surrounded by dark, bruised circles. He looked twenty years older than the man who had strutted through Denver International Airport with a brown leather briefcase.
When I entered the courtroom, walking beside Rachel and Daniel, Brian looked up.
His eyes locked onto mine, pleading, desperate, begging for any shred of the compassion I had once freely poured out for him.
I didn't look away. I held his gaze with a serene, unbreakable silence. I didn't hate him anymore. Hate required passion, and my passion for him was entirely dead. Looking at Brian now was like looking at a rusted piece of scrap iron left out in the rain—useless, decayed, and entirely irrelevant to my life.
Judge Evelyn Martinez wasted no time. Her gavel struck the sound block with the crack of thunder.
"In the matter of Sterling v. Sterling, and taking into consideration the certified guilty pleas entered by the defendant in Federal District Court regarding counts of wire fraud, grand larceny, and conspiracy," Judge Martinez began, her voice ringing off the mahogany walls, "this court finds that the defendant, Brian Sterling, engaged in egregious marital waste, criminal fraud, and unconscionable breach of fiduciary duty against the plaintiff, Claire Sterling."
Brian bowed his head, his shoulders shaking silently. His court-appointed attorney stared down at his legal pad, having already conceded every motion filed by Rachel.
"It is hereby ordered," the judge continued, "that the marriage between Claire Sterling and Brian Sterling is dissolved immediately. All real property, specifically the parcel identified as 412 Elm Street, is declared the sole, separate, and unencumbered property of the plaintiff. Furthermore, all marital assets, investment portfolios, and corporate holdings connected to Apex Development are awarded to the plaintiff in restitution for damages incurred. The defendant shall have no claim, right, title, or interest in any asset owned by Claire Sterling, now or in perpetuity."
Judge Martinez paused, looking down from the bench straight at Brian. Her eyes were sharp with disgust.
"Furthermore, Mr. Sterling, upon the completion of your federal sentence, you will be subject to a permanent civil protection order. If you ever come within one thousand feet of Ms. Sterling, her residence, or her place of business, you will be remanded back into custody immediately. May God have mercy on you, because this court does not."
*Bang.*
The gavel fell. It was over. Six years of deceit, months of terror, weeks of tactical warfare—all resolved in a single strike of wood against wood.
Brian was pulled to his feet by two bailiffs. As they turned him toward the holding cells, he twisted his neck, crying out my name through his tears.
"Claire! Claire, please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Tell them to reduce the sentence! Claire!"
I turned my back to him, gathering my coat from the bench. I didn't utter a single syllable in response.
May you like
The heavy iron door of the cell block slammed shut, cutting off his desperate cries forever.
***
