Page 40 of Make Me Whole

Leena, the red-haired receptionist, avoided my eyes as she greeted us and directed us to the conference room. We’d always been friendly whenever I came over to visit Eli when he still worked here. Her change in behavior was weird and made me wonder if she was one of Eli’s recent conquests.

For her sake, I hoped she wasn’t, but I had no time to worry about her. I had my freedom and Ella’s safety to think about.

We followed Leena’s instructions to Conference Room B. When we arrived, Eli, his father, Trent Walker, and two other people I didn’t know—a woman in her thirties and a young man—sat facing the door. Unlike my Walmart dress and Mr. Kent’s ill-fitting suit, they all looked expensive and impeccable.

From being in the family too long, I knew the firm had a clothing and grooming fund for each associate so they’d look like characters in a TV show. It was one of their many intimidation tactics—which seemed to work on Mr. Kent who wouldn’t stop fidgeting with his blazer.

Mick Walsh got up from his chair as soon as I entered the room. He was the spitting image of his son, but the gleam in his eyes was even more dangerous.

“Sky, sweetheart,” he greeted with open arms. “How’s my granddaughter?”

“She’s happy in her new life,” I replied in a passive-aggressive tone that mirrored his. “I’m happy too, by the way.”

The very corners of his eyes narrowed at my small dig. He placed a quick kiss on my cheek, embraced me, and whispered, “That’s good to know. It’s sad that after so long, we’re meeting under these sad circumstances.”

“I agree, Mick. It would be a lot easier if your son would simply let me and my daughter go.”

“Perhaps. But it would also be easier—especially for you—if you stopped this nonsense and came home.”

I pushed away from him, outraged at his approach. “We should get this started. I have stuff to do before I pick up my daughter from school.”

Mick smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

With a hand at the small of my back, Mick guided me to my chair next to Mr. Kent and then took his seat at the head of the table. I kept my eyes on the glass table as I took my seat. After a deep breath, I raised my face.

Eli’s blue eyes burned into me like dragon fire. “Hi, darling.”

Gag.I ignored him and looked at Mr. Kent. My eyes begged him to take the lead and get this torture done with so I could go home to the safety of Max.

“Okay, let’s get this show going,” my lawyer said, and I was proud of him for sounding almost normal. He removed three stacks of papers from his briefcase but left the manila envelope I had handed him inside. He pushed two stacks across the table at Eli and his team and kept the third one between us. “This is the petition Mrs. Walsh has filed for divorce and custody of the minor, Ella Julia Holmes-Walsh. As you can see, our terms are simple and fair.”

Eli shoved one of the stack of papers to his team and opened the other. His jaw tightened as he read, completely ignoring Mr. Kent who continued to detail our terms.

“Mrs. Walsh doesn’t want any portion of the house or money for herself. The only asset she wishes to keep is her car, which should be transferred to her name before the divorce is finalized. As for the child, she’s requesting full physical custody with visitation rights at her convenience and payments to cover the child’s healthcare and other needs.”

“This is bullshit,” he barked, interrupting Mr. Kent. “She’s not keeping shit. She’s not taking my child. I’m not paying shit. And I’m not signing the divorce.”

My blood boiled with anger. I opened my mouth to reply, to shout in the middle of this room full of people that he could either agree to the terms or face criminal charges for physical and sexual assault, but Mr. Kent placed a soothing hand over my closed fist.

Addressing Mr. Walker instead of Eli in a tone that contradicted his sweaty palm, Mr. Kent said, “I suggest you instruct your client to show a little restraint and respect. And to agree to these very reasonable terms, of course. My client only wants her freedom and the safety of her child. She doesn’t want more trouble. But if Mr. Walsh continues to push us, we’ll take further measures to make him answer for the harm he caused Mrs. Walsh during their years of marriage.”

For the first time since seeing Mr. Kent hug his briefcase earlier, I felt proud of having him as my attorney. That was badass.

Eli, however, wasn’t as appreciative of my lawyer’s threats. His eyes bore into me like a torch. My instinct was to cower at the intensity of his gaze, but I decided against it and held firm to the newfound confidence I had found though Max.

“In this office we don’t take kindly to threats, Mr. Kent. Especially to the empty ones,” Mr. Walker said in a calm tone.

Mr. Kent removed the manila envelope from his briefcase, placed it on the table in front of him, and crossed his hands over it. As all eyes turned to the envelope, he said, “I never threatened anyone. I merely made a suggestion.”

“What’s in the envelope?” Eli asked and received a warning look from his father. He instantly zipped his lips.

Mick cleared his throat. “I don’t mean any disrespect to Skylar, whom I adore for bringing my granddaughter into this world, but there’s no way you’ll win. Even if the two of you convince a judge to grant the divorce, which I assure you won’t happen, an unemployed, uneducated woman living off her father isn’t stable enough to raise a child. You may want to fight us, but you don’t have the resources for a long-term fight. The only way Skylar gets to keep Ella is by returning home to her husband. So it comes down to a choice.” He shifted his gaze from Mr. Kent to me and asked, “What do you want most, Skylar, your freedom or your daughter?”

The answer was obvious. I’d choose Ella over anything, but I couldn’t answer that. I couldn’t let Eli and his family bully me into submission again. Thankfully, I didn’t have to answer at all.

Once more, Mr. Kent surprised me by ignoring Mick. He looked at Eli, calmly removed the papers from the envelope, and laid them in front of us. “To answer your question, the envelope contains proof of physical abuse against my client and a declaration from an eyewitness to this abuse. So, like the elder Mr. Walsh put it, it comes down to a choice. What do you want to keep, Eli, your freedom and reputation or your wife?”

“Bullshit.” Mick slammed his fist on the table, showing his true colors for the first time since I’ve known him. “My boy never abused his wife.”

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