Chapter 3: The Recess
During the recess I sat with Nolan and Parker in the small room beside the courtroom. They were quiet, holding each other’s hands the way they had done since they were toddlers.
Nolan looked up at me.
“Is Daddy mad at us?”
I knelt down so I could look both of them in the eyes.
“Daddy is surprised. Sometimes grown-ups get surprised when they learn something they didn’t expect. But none of this is your fault. You are both loved very much.”
Parker’s voice was small.
“Will we still live in our house?”
I hugged them both.
“We will figure that out together. But I promise you will always have a home with me.”
When the court reconvened, the atmosphere had changed. The confidence Gavin had carried into the room was gone. His attorneys looked rattled. Sloane sat several seats away, no longer touching his arm.
Judge Beckett began by asking Gavin directly about the company’s founding.
Gavin hesitated, then admitted that I had started the business before we married. He claimed he had grown it into what it was today and that the prenup protected his contributions.
Judge Beckett turned to me.
“Mrs. Rourke, would you like to respond?”
I stood.
“Your Honor, I retained majority ownership through the original incorporation and subsequent agreements. Gavin managed day-to-day operations, but the controlling interest and the majority of the equity remained with me. The prenuptial agreement he prepared never transferred those shares. It only addressed certain personal assets. I allowed him to present himself as the face of the company because I believed in our partnership. I no longer believe in that partnership.”
Gavin’s voice rose.
“You hid this from me for thirteen years?”
I looked at him calmly.
“I never hid it. You never looked. You assumed the company was yours because I let you be the public face. That was my mistake.”
The judge asked for the full financial records. Gavin’s team tried to object, but the request was granted. The hearing was adjourned until the following week to allow time for review.
As we left the courtroom, Gavin tried to speak to me in the hallway.
“Cassandra, we can still fix this. For the boys.”
I stopped and looked at him.
“You brought your mistress to our divorce hearing. You tried to take my children and my company. There is nothing left to fix.”
May you like
I walked away with my sons’ hands in mine.
For the first time in thirteen years, I was not walking behind him.
