Chapter 2 - The Fortress in Seattle
Two hundred miles north, in the quiet, tree-lined neighborhood of Queen Anne in Seattle, I sat on my sister’s porch, wrapping a warm knitted blanket around myself.
The air was crisp and smelled of pine and saltwater. From inside the house, I could hear the soft, rhythmic hum of the baby swings. Ava and Ethan were asleep, their tiny tummies rising and falling in perfect unison.
Jennifer walked out, carrying two mugs of steaming chamomile tea. She handed one to me and sat down on the wicker chair beside me.
"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, placing a hand on my knee.
"Like I can finally breathe," I whispered, taking a sip of the warm tea. "For the first time in five weeks, my chest doesn't feel tight."
"You did the right thing, Emily," Jennifer said. "Michael Bennett called. He said Ryan tried to storm into his office in Portland this morning, demanding to know where you were. Michael had him escorted out by building security. He’s already filed the incident report with the judge handling the custody case."
I let out a shaky breath. "He’s going to fight me, isn't he? Not because he wants the babies, but because he hates to lose."
"Let him try," a deep, calm voice said from the porch steps.
Michael Bennett, our lawyer, walked up the stairs, carrying a leather briefcase. He was a tall, sharp-eyed man with a reputation for being ruthless in the courtroom, but with us, his demeanor was incredibly warm.
"The judge signed the emergency custody order this afternoon, Emily," Michael said, sitting down across from us. "Ryan has been ordered to pay temporary child support, and his visitation rights have been suspended pending a full psychological evaluation and a drug screening."
"And the Ibiza photo?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat.
"It’s gold," Michael smiled, his eyes flashing with professional satisfaction. "In the state of Oregon, while infidelity doesn't directly dictate asset division, the fact that he spent marital funds—specifically, funds earmarked for the children's medical care and nursery—on his mistress constitutes financial dissipation. We are going to strip him of every asset he has left."
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I looked out at the Seattle skyline, the grey clouds parting to let a sliver of golden sunlight shine through.
Ryan thought he had left me weak and broken. But in his absence, I had found my voice. And I was never going to let him silence it again.
