Chapter 7
I walked into the law firm with the divorce papers in hand, my mind eerily calm.
Mr. Whitmore looked at me, his expression complicated. “Mrs. Grayson, are you absolutely sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. We’ll file the lawsuit with the court tomorrow.”
The next day, the summons was delivered to Damian.
For the entire week that followed, my phone was bombarded with his calls.
I ignored every single one.
Then came the day of the hearing.
The courtroom was silent.
I sat at the plaintiff’s table, Mr. Whitmore by my side.
Damian occupied Mr. Grayson’s seat, his face pale, dark circles under his eyes-clearly, he hadn’t slept well in days.
After the judge called the court to order, Mr. Whitmore presented our case. “The marriage contract between my client, Ms.
Lockwood, and Mr. Grayson, Mr. Grayson, is now void. The irretrievable breakdown of this union renders continued
cohabitation legally untenable.”
Damian’s lawyer immediately countered. “Your Honor, my client contests the divorce. Mr. Grayson and Ms. Lockwood
share a deep emotional bond. Their relationship this past year has been harmonious-there is no evidence of any
breakdown.”
The judge turned to Damian. “Mr. Grayson, do you wish to respond?”
Damian stood, his voice trembling. “Your Honor, I oppose this divorce. I have feelings for Evelyn-I love her!”
He turned to me, tears brimming in his eyes. “Evelyn, do you remember? The first time we met, you were wearing that
white dress, smiling so beautifully. Do you remember our first date? I took you to that French restaurant. You said the
wine was exquisite. And on our wedding day… you said you’d try to love me.”
His voice grew more impassioned. “This past year, I’ve done everything to be a good husband! I remembered your preferences, bought you gifts, shared countless beautiful moments with you! How can you say there’s no love between
us?”
The courtroom fell completely still.
His words sounded sincere. Heartfelt.
Anyone who didn’t know the truth might have been moved.
I looked at him, my heart utterly unmoved.
Mr. Whitmore rose. “Your Honor, I’d like to submit evidence to the court.”
“These are Mr. Grayson’s call records from the past year. Total calls to Ms. Hart: 1,247. Total call duration: 468 hours. Averaging 3.4 calls per day, each lasting approximately 22 minutes.”
Damian’s face drained of color.
Mr. Whitmore continued. “Your Honor, this is Mr. Grayson’s itinerary on Ms. Lockwood’s birthday. That morning, he did order a cake for Ms. Lockwood. However, he also purchased an identical one for Ms. Hart. More critically, from 8 PM to 2 AM the following day, Mr. Grayson was at Ms. Hart’s residence-not with his wife.
I remembered that day.
Damian had claimed he was at a work dinner and would be back late.
I ate my birthday cake alone at home, waiting until 3 AM.
When he finally returned, he smelled of another woman’s perfume.
Mr. Whitmore produced a third set of documents. “Your Honor, these are the purchase records for Mr. Grayson’s anniversary gift to Ms. Lockwood-the ‘Stellar Tears’ necklace. Mr. Grayson did indeed buy two identical necklaces. One for Ms. Lockwood. The other for Ms. Hart. And the one given to Ms. Hart was purchased a full month earlier.”
Damian’s lawyer tried to object, but the judge overruled him.
Mr. Whitmore wasn’t finished. “Your Honor, these are hospital records from March 15th. Ms. Lockwood underwent emergency surgery for appendicitis. That night, Mr. Grayson’s whereabouts? Attending Ms. Hart’s birthday party. These
are surveillance stills from the restaurant.”
I remembered that night too.
I had been sweating through the pain in my hospital bed, calling Damian.
He said he was on set and couldn’t come.
Later, a nurse told me she’d seen entertainment news-Damian celebrating Serena’s birthday at some high-end restaurant.
In the photos, he was feeding her cake.
Mr. Whitmore’s voice cut through the courtroom. “Your Honor, we have further evidence proving that throughout this
marriage, Mr. Grayson maintained an inappropriate relationship with a third party. His so-called ‘love’ is nothing but
deception. His ‘beautiful memories’ were built on betrayal.”
Damian finally snapped. “Enough! That’s enough!”
He shot to his feet, pointing at Mr. Whitmore. “You’ve been investigating me? What right do you have to pry into my private life?”
The judge struck his gavel. “Mr. Grayson, control yourself.”
Damian whirled toward me, furious. “Evelyn, you actually had people spy on me?”
It was the first time I spoke in court. “Is it wrong to investigate my own husband?”
“Come on-”
“Damian, you just said you loved me. That we had something real.” My voice was soft, but in the silent courtroom, every word carried. “You don’t love me. You love the Lockwood fortune and the doors it opens. As for the woman holding that
Chapter 7
name? You couldn’t even remember her birthday.”
Damian’s face went completely pale.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
The judge looked between us and called for a recess. “The court will reconvene for the verdict at a later date.”
As I gathered my things to leave, Damian suddenly rushed over, reaching for my hand. “Evelyn, let’s talk. Please.”
I stepped back. “Don’t touch me.”
“Evelyn-”
“Mr. Grayson, the game is over.” I walked out without looking back.
Behind me, Damian’s voice rang out, desperate. “Evelyn! Evelyn!”
I didn’t turn around.
Some people, once one saw them for who they truly were-there was no going back.
