"You're a housewife! Every stitch on your back, every bite in your mouth came from Morton Henson! And you still had the nerve to cheat? Why don't you just drop dead!"
My clothes had been nearly ripped off me, strips of fabric hanging loose, skin bare to the cold air—utterly humiliating.
That was when Morton finally rushed over, pulling off his own jacket and draping it around my shoulders like he'd rehearsed the gesture.
He turned on his mother with a look of reproach.
"Mom, as long as Paula and I aren't officially divorced, she's still my wife. You can't treat her like this!"
The crowd flipped on a dime. Phones were still filming, but suddenly the comments changed.
"That woman did all that to him and he's still protecting her? What a good man!"
"Paula, if you had even a shred of conscience, you'd be begging him to forgive you!"
Morton turned to me, face arranged into perfect devotion.
"Honey, just come back to me. I'll drop the whole thing. Right now."
I looked at that rehearsed tenderness, grabbed his jacket, and flung it straight back at him.
"Morton Henson, I'll see you in court!"
The hearing arrived fast.
Relatives, friends, concerned citizens, even reporters packed the gallery.
Every one of them waiting to see me ruined.
Morton showed up with Lottie at his side. When he saw me, there was still a sliver of earnest appeal in his eyes.
"Honey, it's not too late to change your mind. Once this hearing starts, you'll walk out with the clothes on your back—nothing else."
I looked at that smug confidence and let out a dry laugh.
"Who's leaving with nothing? That's far from decided. Don't celebrate too early, Morton."
The smile slid off his face. His eyes went hard and flat.
"Paula. Then don't blame me for not sparing you an ounce of dignity as my wife."
The judge called the case. Morton stood, slid a thick folder across the bench, and launched in.
"Paula Sullivan carried on affairs during our marriage and posted a fake strip-tease game on a porn site, causing severe damage to me and my family."
He sat back and shot me a look—satisfied, proprietary.
Right at that moment, my legal team walked toward me.
The entire courtroom went silent when they saw who it was.
"Isn't that the top elite legal team in the city? Why would they represent a woman like her?"
Morton sneered at me.
"So what if you hired the best? I've got witnesses. I've got evidence. All of it."
"Paula, you're finished."
He rattled off ten separate charges against me, right in front of the judge.
The judge fixed me with a cold stare.
"The plaintiff has submitted all evidence. Defendant, you are accused of carrying on multiple extramarital affairs and of illegally profiting through sexual content. Do you have any objections?"
I smiled, perfectly calm.
"Of course I do."
And I produced a set of documents.
The moment Morton saw what was in my hands, his whole body began to tremble.
I looked at him and smiled.
Showtime.
