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Chapter 120 – Verdict Delivered, A Haunting “What if
The courtroom air felt heavy as I sat in my wheelchair, facing the woman who held my future in her hands. Judge Pearson, a stern–faced woman in her fifties, peered down at me over her glasses, then shifted her gaze to Julian.
“Mr. Grayson, you’ve appealed the original divorce decree on grounds that seem… questionable at best,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension. “Your claim that Ms. Ashworth is abandoning you during a medical crisis fails to acknowledge that you first abandoned her at the altar.”
I kept my expression neutral, though a small flutter of hope stirred in my chest. Julian’s lawyer scrambled to his feet.
“Your Honor, my client was manipulated during an emotionally vulnerable time. His decision regarding the canceled wedding,”
“Was entirely his own,” I interjected firmly. All eyes turned to me. “Julian made his choice with full awareness of what he was doing. He chose to marry my dying stepsister despite our six–year relationship.”
Julian’s face contorted. “Hazel, you know Ivy was dying. How could I-”
“Mr. Grayson,” the judge cut in sharply. “You’ll have your turn to speak.”
My lawyer, Ms. Reynolds, smoothly took control. “Your Honor, we’ve submitted extensive evidence of Mr. Grayson’s behavior following the wedding cancelation, including harassment, stalking, and his family’s coordinated attempts to sabotage Ms. Ashworth’s business.”
I watched Julian as Ms. Reynolds outlined our case. He looked terrible – thinner than I’d ever seen him, with dark circles under his eyes and a yellowish tint to his skin. His illness was clearly advancing without my blood donations, but I felt nothing beyond a clinical observation. The man I once would have died for now seemed like a stranger.
When it was Julian’s turn to speak, he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his lawyer’s arm.
“Hazel and I have history,” he said, his voice weak but still carrying that entitled tone I
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now recognized so clearly. “Six years together. She saved my life multiple times with her blood donations. I made one mistake-*
“One mistake?” I couldn’t help myself. “You married my stepsister. You let your sister harass me. You tried to bankrupt my company. You showed up at my apartment unannounced. You’re not the victim here, Julian.”
Judge Pearson frowned at my interruption but didn’t reprimand me. Instead, she flipped through the case files, her expression growing harder with each page.
“Mr. Grayson, your appeal seems primarily motivated by your medical needs rather than any genuine desire to reconcile this marriage,” she finally said. “This court is not in the business of forcing one person to be a perpetual medical donor to another, especially not in the context of a marriage that was clearly entered into under false
pretenses.”
Julian paled even further. “Your Honor, I could die without—”
“Then I suggest you find another compatible donor,” Judge Pearson cut in coldly. “Your medical condition, while unfortunate, does not entitle you to Ms. Ashworth’s bodily
resources.”
I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders as the judge continued.
*After reviewing all evidence presented, this court upholds the original divorce decree. The divorce is granted, final and unappealable.”
She banged her gavel with finality. “Next case.”
Just like that, it was over. My marriage to Julian – a marriage that had lasted barely two months and had never been consummated – was officially, irrevocably dissolved.
Ms. Reynolds squeezed my shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re free.”
Free. The word echoed in my mind as Victoria appeared beside me, ready to wheel me out of the courtroom. I felt lighter somehow, as if chains I’d been carrying for years had finally fallen away.
As we turned to leave, Julian’collapsed back into his wheelchair, his father bending to whisper something in his ear. I caught a glimpse of naked panic on his face, and for just a moment, I felt a flicker of the old compassion. Then I remembered everything – the humiliation, the betrayal, the harassment – and the feeling evaporated like morning
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mist.
We had almost reached the courtroom doors when I heard the sound of wheels behind
- us.
“Hazel! Wait!”
I sighed and nodded to Victoria, who turned my wheelchair around. Julian had maneuvered himself away from his father and lawyer, rolling his wheelchair toward me with desperate energy.
“What do you want, Julian?” I asked quietly.
He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot and pleading. “How can you say you never loved me? After everything we shared? Six years, Hazel. Six years.”
I studied his face, searching for any trace of the man I’d once thought I couldn’t live without. All I saw was desperation and selfishness.
“I thought I loved you,” I said honestly. “But now I understand it wasn’t love. I was young, Julian. I had a terrible childhood with a father who despised me and a stepmother who treated me like dirt. You were kind to me when I needed kindness most. I confused gratitude and dependency with love.”
Julian’s eyes widened, as if he’d never considered this perspective. “That’s not true. We had something special.”
“Did we?” I tilted my head. “Or did you just enjoy having someone who worshipped you? Someone who would literally givé her blood for you whenever you asked?”
His face flushed. “That’s unfair.”
“Is it? Julian, let me ask you something.” I leaned forward slightly. “Did you ever really love me? Or did you just need me?”
The question hung between us like a physical thing. Julian opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
“I love you now,” he finally said, his voice breaking. “I know that now.”
I smiled sadly. “Now that you’re sick again and I’m the only compatible donor you know. Now that I’ve built a successful business without you. Now that I’m with
someone else.”
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It’s not like that, he protested, but his eyes slid away from mine.
“Ms. Ashworth, we should go,” my lawyer murmured behind me. I nodded and Victoria began to turn my wheelchair.
“Hazel!” Julian’s voice had risen to a desperate pitch. “Hazel, if there were no Damien Sterling, would you give me another chance? Hazel-”
Victoria wheeled me away, his words fading behind me. But the question lingered in my mind as we left the courthouse, sunlight washing over my face.
If there were no Damien Sterling…
–
It was a question I couldn’t – wouldn’t answer. Because the truth was, Damien had shown me what real love looked like. Not possession, not dependency, not convenience – but partnership, respect, and unwavering support.
What Julian was really asking was: if I hadn’t discovered my own worth, would I still accept his crumbs?
༠༠ ༤ འཇག འབབ
As Victoria helped me into her car, I cast one last glance at the courthouse steps. Julian was being helped into his father’s black sedan, his face streaked with tears, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
For a fleeting moment, I imagined a different life – one where I’d never thrown those firecrackers, never met Damien, never discovered my own strength. It was like peering into a dark alternate universe.
I shuddered and turned away.
“You okay?” Victoria asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
I nodded, feeling the warm weight of my engagement ring from Damien. “I’m free,” I said simply. “Really free.”
As we drove away, Julian’s question echoed once more before fading completely: If there were no Damien Sterling…
But there was. And I was never going back to a life without him.
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