116 Chapter 119
116 Chapter 119
Chapter 119 – The Wheelchair Reckoning
Cherry’s suggestion that Mr. Vance might have feelings for me lingered in my mind as I prepared for bed that night. The possibility seemed absurd – he was my investor, nothing more. Our relationship had always been strictly professional, despite those moments when his gaze might have lingered a second too long.
I decided then and there to maintain clear boundaries. The last thing I needed was another complication in my already chaotic life.
My phone buzzed with an unknown number as I was setting my alarm. Against my better judgment, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hazel.” Julian’s voice came through, weary and defeated. I hadn’t heard from him directly in weeks, not since his sister’s arrest.
My body tensed immediately. “How did you get this number?”
“Does it matter?” He sighed heavily. “We need to talk.”
“We have nothing to discuss that can’t go through our lawyers,” I replied coldly, my finger hovering over the end call button.
“Please,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Just hear me out.”
Something in his tone – desperation perhaps – made me pause. “You have one minute.”
“I’m willing to drop my appeal against the divorce,” he said quickly. “I’ll sign whatever you want. But I need something in return.”
Of course. Julian never did anything without expecting something back.
“What?” I asked, already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.
“Help with Giselle’s case. An/out–of–court settlement.”
I nearly laughed out loud. “You want me to drop charges against your sister? After she tried to destroy my business and my reputation?”
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She’s facing serious jail time, Hazel,” Julian pleaded. “Our parents are devastated. The family name-”
“The family name?” I cut in sharply. “The same family that treated me like garbage for years? The same sister who helped you track my movements and harass me? That family name?”
“I know we’ve hurt you-”
“You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” I said, my voice eerily calm now. “And you know what the best part is, Julian? I don’t need your cooperation anymore. The divorce will go through with or without your signature. The evidence is overwhelming.”
The line went quiet for a moment. Then, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I’m enjoying watching you squirm,” I admitted, surprised by my own honesty. “I’m enjoying watching you realize that you can’t manipulate me anymore.”
“And what about your new boyfriend?” Julian’s voice turned bitter. “Does he know what you really are? How calculating you can be?”
“Don’t you dare try to flip this around on me,” I snapped. “And don’t pretend this is about anything other than your desperation. Your sister committed crimes. She’s going to pay for them.”
Julian’s breathing became heavier. “I can’t stand it,” he finally said, his voice cracking. “I can’t stand seeing you move on while my life falls apart.”
–
There it was the truth. This had nothing to do with Giselle or family reputation. It was about Julian’s inability to accept that I was no longer his to control.
“That’s not my problem,” I replied coldly. “You made your choice when you married Ivy. Now you get to live with the consequences.”
“You heartless bitch!” he exploded, his voice rising to a shout. “After everything we’ve been through-”
I cut the call, a strange sense of calm washing over me. Time was when Julian’s anger would have scared me, made me second–guess myself. Now I just felt pity for him.
My phone rang again – the same number. I rejected it and blocked it. Then I texted my lawyer to let her know about the call.
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Ten minutes later, my aunt called.
“The Graysons reached out to me,” she said without preamble.
I sank onto my bed. “Let me guess they want me to drop the charges against Giselle?”
“Julian’s father practically begged,” she confirmed. “Offered a substantial settlement if we’d ‘show mercy‘ to their daughter.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him that wasn’t my decision to make,” she replied. “It’s yours, Hazel. But for what it’s worth, I’m behind you one hundred percent, whatever you choose.”
I closed my eyes, grateful for her support. “I’m not dropping the charges. Giselle knew exactly what she was doing when she tried to frame me.”
“That’s my girl,” Aunt Esther said approvingly. “They’ve gotten away with too much for too long. It’s time they faced consequences.”
After we hung up, I sat in the darkness of my bedroom, thinking about how much had changed. Six months ago, I would have done anything to keep Julian and his family happy. Now, I was standing my ground against them all.
It felt good. Terrifying, but good.
The morning of the second divorce hearing arrived with unexpected sunshine streaming through my windows. I dressed carefully in a navy blue suit that projected both professionalism and dignity. With my knee still not fully healed, I reluctantly settled into the wheelchair my doctor had recommended for any outings that required more than minimal walking.
Victoria insisted on driving me to the courthouse. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she declared, helping me into her car. “Julian is going to get the shock of his life when he sees you rolling in there like the queen you are.”
I laughed despite my nerves, “I’m hardly queenly in this thing,” I said, gesturing to the wheelchair.
“Are you kidding? You could make a garbage bag look couture,” Victoria replied, pulling into traffic. “Besides, the wheelchair is strategic. It reminds everyone what you’ve been
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through.”
My lawyer, Ms. Reynolds, met us at the courthouse steps. “Ready for this?” she asked, helping Victoria get the wheelchair set up.
“More than ready,” I assured her.
We made our way through security and toward the designated courtroom. As we rounded the corner, I froze at the sight before me.
Julian sat in the corridor outside the courtroom – in a wheelchair.
He looked terrible. His normally impeccable appearance was disheveled, his face gaunt and pale. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he seemed to have lost weight. His father stood protectively behind him, while their lawyer bent to speak to him in hushed tones.
“What the hell?” Victoria murmured beside me. “Is he mocking you?”
Before I could respond, Julian looked up and our eyes met. Something flickered across his face shame? Defiance? – before he quickly looked away.
“Ms. Ashworth,” Ms. Reynolds said quietly, “don’t let this throw you. It’s a sympathy play, nothing more.”
I nodded, squaring my shoulders. “It won’t.”
As we entered the courtroom, I couldn’t help but notice the whispers that followed us
–
two people in wheelchairs facing off in a divorce proceeding made for quite a spectacle, I supposed.
Once the judge entered and proceedings began, Julian’s lawyer immediately played the health card.
“Your Honor, my client is seriously ill and under tremendous stress. This divorce, so soon after his recent marriage, has exacerbated his condition. We ask for compassion and time for Mr. Grayson to recover before finalizing such a life–altering decision.”
I watched Julian hang his head, playing the part of the suffering invalid perfectly. Rage bubbled up inside me, but I kept my face impassive.
When it was our turn, Ms./Reynolds stood. “Your Honor, while we sympathize with Mr. Grayson’s health concerns, they do not negate the grounds for this divorce. In fact,
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they may well be a deliberate attempt to delay proceedings.”
She gestured toward me. “Ms. Ashworth has also suffered physical harm – a knee injury requiring medical intervention – due to harassment connected to Mr. Grayson and his family. Yet she is here today, ready to proceed.”
The judge looked thoughtfully between us. “Mr. Grayson, would you care to respond to these allegations?”
Julian’s lawyer helped him to a standing position beside his wheelchair. He swayed slightly, as if too weak to stand unassisted.
“Your Honor, I still care deeply for Hazel,” he said, his voice thin and reedy. “I believe that with time, we could reconcile. Our history together spans years, and I don’t want to throw that away because of… misunderstandings.”
“Misunderstandings?” I couldn’t help myself. The word escaped my lips before I could
stop it.
The judge looked at me. “Ms. Ashworth, you’ll have your chance to speak.”
When my turn came, Ms. Reynolds helped me stand, though I leaned heavily on the table before me. Unlike Julian, my injury was genuine.
“Your Honor,” I began, my voice steady despite my racing heart, “Julian Grayson canceled our wedding to marry my dying stepsister – a woman who admitted on her deathbed that she never loved him but only wanted to take him from me.”
I looked directly at Julian as I continued. “Since then, he and his family have harassed me, threatened me, and attempted to sabotage my business. His sister is currently facing criminal charges for her actions against me.”
I took a deep breath. “Moreover, I suspect Mr. Grayson’s sudden concern for our marriage has less to do with reconciliation and more to do with his medical condition. We share a rare blood type, and he has benefited from my donations for years. Now that I refuse to continue providing blood to someone who betrayed me so cruelly, he finds himself in a precarious position.”
Julian’s face contorted with rage. “That’s not true!” he shouted, momentarily forgetting his invalid act.
“Isn’t it?” I challenged, feeling strangely powerful despite my physical vulnerability.
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“You’ve called me selfish for refusing to donate, yet you see nothing selfish in expecting me to continue providing my blood after you left me for my stepsister.
The courtroom had fallen utterly silent. Even the judge seemed taken aback by the rawness of our exchange.
“Given his various misdeeds,” I concluded firmly, “I strongly apply for divorce;
otherwise, if we continue to live together, my personal safety cannot be guaranteed.
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