He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

An Hour Later.

Roxanne’s heart hammered a fierce, irregular rhythm against her ribs as the car glided to a halt in front of the massive stone pillars of the courthouse. She stared up at the double doors, taking a slow, shaky breath that barely reached her lungs.

Beside her, Theodore reached out, his warm hand giving hers a steady, grounding squeeze.

They stepped out into the humid afternoon air. As they began the slow climb up the concrete steps, Roxanne spotted a familiar figure near the parking lot.

Christian was leaning against the hood of a sleek sedan, his arms crossed while his attorney murmured animatedly in his ear.

She yanked her eyes away, staring straight ahead as Harry hurried down the steps to intercept them, his leather briefcase in hand and his face a mask of strict professionalism.

"Glad you made it on time," Harry said, checking his watch. "We start in ten minutes."

Despite every instinct telling her not to, Roxanne’s gaze flicked back toward the sedan.

Across the pavement, Christian’s eyes locked directly onto hers. Slowly, his lips curved into a smooth, unsettling smile. Roxanne’s heart skipped a terrifying beat, a cold shiver racing down her spine before she forced herself to look away.

He did not scream. He did not make a scene. The silence was completely unnatural for him.

As she walked through the polished brass entrance alongside Harry and Theodore, her mind raced. Was it possible he had finally realized he was beaten? Had he actually given up?

Theodore placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving her a quiet smile as they passed through the metal detectors.

Inside the courtroom, the air smelled faintly of lemon polish and old paper. High ceilings amplified every muffled whisper and paper rustle from the other waiting parties.

Roxanne sank into the wooden bench on the petitioner’s side. Moments later, the heavy doors at the back clicked open, and Christian walked in with his attorney, taking his seat on the opposite aisle just yards away.

Roxanne kept her chin up, her gaze fixed on the empty judicial bench. But Christian’s silence felt like a physical weight pressing against her chest. Unconsciously, her heel began tapping a fast, frantic rhythm against the hardwood floor.

A prickle of heat on her cheek made her turn her head slightly. Christian was staring right at her. Beside him, his lawyer leaned in close, whispering urgently while clamping a firm, restraining hand over Christian’s shoulder, as if holding back a wild animal.

What is he stopping him from doing? The thought sent her pulse spiking loudly in her ears.

A soft buzz in her palm broke the spell. Roxanne looked down at her glowing screen. It was a text from Richard.

Everything will work out just fine. I wish I were there holding your hand right now. ~ Richard

A small smile touched her lips. A wave of heat washed over her skin, instantly anchoring her scattered nerves.

Theodore leaned down, whispering softly, "Remain calm, Roxanne. You are almost at the finish line."

"Thank you, Theo," she breathed, slipping her phone into her handbag just as the door behind the bench swung wide.

"All rise!" the bailiff barked, his voice echoing off the high walls.

The entire room stood in unison as the judge, a sharp-eyed woman with grey hair, walked in, her black robes billowing slightly before she took her seat.

The bailiff unrolled a crisp document. "Calling case number 408: The matter of the dissolution of marriage between Roxanne Westbrook and Christian Westbrook."

Roxanne’s throat went dry as they stepped past the wooden partition to take their seats at the front tables. When she glanced up at the bench, the judge was staring down at her over silver-rimmed glasses, her expression unreadable.

Roxanne’s chest tightened. Had she already seen the leaked videos? Had Christian poisoned the judge’s opinion before the hearing had even begun? She lifted her chin higher, refusing to let the fear show.

"Counsel Harry," the judge said, her tone smooth and authoritative.

Harry stood up, smoothing the front of his tailored suit jacket. "Thank you, Your Honor," he began, his voice ringing clearly through the room.

"My client is before this honorable court today to request the immediate dissolution of her marriage to Mr. Christian Westbrook. Over the past several years, my client has endured severe emotional distress and persistent infidelity, grounds that render this marriage irretrievably broken. Under state law, she cannot be forced to remain in a union that has caused such profound damage. We respectfully ask the court to grant the decree."

With a short bow, Harry returned to his seat.

The judge shifted her dark gaze toward the defense table. "Do you have a response to these grounds, Counsel Mark?"

The opposing lawyer stood up slowly, buttoning his coat. He walked to the center of the floor, turning his back to the bench for a brief second to address the courtroom before facing the judge.

"My client categorically denies every allegation presented by my learned colleague," Mark stated, his voice booming with forced confidence. "Furthermore, Your Honor. The evidence we intend to present today will demonstrate that the petitioner is not the victim she claims to be."

Roxanne’s breath hitched, her stomach dropping into a cold, bottomless pit. She turned her head toward the defense table.

Christian caught her eye, leaning back in his leather chair. Slowly, his jagged smile widened.

"Proceed," the judge said, her tone level.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Mark said, stepping closer to the bench. "I am certain you have seen the headlines over the last week. But in the event that this honorable court has not, we have brought primary digital evidence."

He turned back to the defense table to retrieve a black USB drive, holding it up like a trophy.

Roxanne’s eyes locked onto the black USB drive. A cold wave swept through her body. Whatever Christian had brought into this courtroom. He believed it was enough to destroy her.

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