The gavel struck.
Just like that, it was over.
Richard tried to reach me outside the courtroom.
“Caroline.”
I kept walking.
“Caroline, please.”
I turned.
For years I had begged him to listen.
Now he was the one chasing me.
“What?” I asked.
He looked at my stomach.
Then at me.
For a moment, he seemed like he wanted to say something meaningful.
Something honest.
Instead he asked, “Can we negotiate?”
I laughed.
