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“Like what?”

“Anything from past relationships to personal conflicts.” Her eyes meet mine. “You’ll be sitting across from him at the table with me. We’ll have a court reporter present to transcribe everything said. Answer all questions in a calm and honest manner. Don’t volunteer extra information. Keep your answers concise.”

“Okay.” The mere idea of sitting across from Oliver makes me feel sick.

Amanda leans forward, her expression earnest. “Remember, you have the truth on your side here. We have strong evidence of his infidelity and deceit. Let that give you strength today.”

I’m so relieved Amanda took me on as her client. She has been my constant support. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.

Filing for divorce pushed me back to life, but I’m still worried about my brother, Sebastian. He assured me it wouldn’t be a problem cutting ties with Oliver. Nevertheless, I brought Oliver into our family. Everything is happening because of my poor judgment.

There’s a knock on the door, and Amanda’s assistant peeks her head in. “They’re here.”

My stomach drops.

This is it. After years of lies and betrayal, I’m getting what I deserve—my freedom from this sham of a marriage.

Amanda gathers her legal pad and folders while I stand on shaky legs, drying my sweaty palms on my jeans. I chose my favorite blue blouse this morning, hoping it would bring me luck and confidence. It’s not working.

“You’ve got this. Remember, the truth is on your side.” Amanda places a hand on my back and guides me to the conference room.

And there he is.

Oliver.

My husband, almost ex-husband, is already sitting inside the room with his lawyer present. His slicked-back hair and expensive suit scream arrogance. He looks up, eyes gleaming with that predatory charm that once fooled me. Now, it just makes my skin crawl, and I want to smack that stupid grin right off his face.

I lift my chin and stare straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze as I take my seat.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Amanda sits down beside me, shuffling her papers.

“Yes,” Oliver’s lawyer says.

“When did you first meet Ms. Barron, Mr. Dorrance?” Amanda asks.

Oliver leans back in his chair, that insufferable smirk still plastered on his face. “Last I checked, she was still Mrs. Dorrance.”

Mrs. Dorrance? As if our marriage wasn’t over the moment he slid his wedding ring off to seduce another woman.

“Please answer the question, Mr. Dorrance,” Amanda says.

“It was in college. No one in the room was more beautiful than her. I knew right away we were meant to be together.”

Under the table, I dig my nails into my palms. All his sweet words are an act, even at that moment.

“And how did you propose?”

“On a trip to Paris. I arranged a private dinner. When she stepped out onto the balcony, I dropped to one knee and asked her to be my lovely wife.”

Lies. He proposed over text from a business trip after months of me hinting. When he came back, he brought a heart-shaped balloon and a ring. Why did I say yes?

“When did you get married?”

“Six months later.”

Amanda nods, making a note. “And how would you describe your marriage?”

“Eventful.”

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