Page 111 of Just My Luck
“Very well,” the judge said. “Let the record reflect the absence of the plaintiff. Mr. Waxman, would you like to proceed with your case?”
Attorney Waxman slicked a hand down his tie. “Your Honor, we request that all evidence previously submitted be considered with the weight it deserves. However, we will rely on the court’s discretion in this matter.”
My attorney leaned to whisper in my ear. “They are choosing not to call any character witnesses against you. This is very good for us.”
A shiny spot of hope bloomed in my chest.
Judge Barnes nodded. “Very well. Let the record reflect that the plaintiff calls no witnesses. Ms. Michaels, would you like to proceed with your case?”
My attorney smiled. “Yes, Your Honor. We are prepared to proceed. I would like to call the listed witnesses to testify on behalf of the defendant.”
Judge Barnes gestured to the space in front of the bench. “Please proceed.”
Laura nodded and faced the courtroom. “I call Norman ‘Bax’ Robinson to the stand.”
My heart swelled to see my dear, sweet grandfather, dressed in an ill-fitting, rumpled suit, walk to the witness stand. He confidently placed his hand on the Bible to be sworn in.
My attorney gently talked him through a series of questions in which he shared his experiences with my children. My throat went tight when he looked at me and smiled as he told the court how proud he was of me and my ability to care for my children despite our recent bouts of bad luck. He spoke of how happy the kids were and how life near the lake was good for all of us.
When he was finished, he winked at me from the stand, and I mouthedI love you.
Judge Barnes then asked, “Any cross-examination, Mr. Waxman?”
Jared’s attorney shook his head and tapped his pen. “None, Your Honor.”
“Very well. You may call your next witness, Ms. Michaels.”
One by one, my lawyer called friends and neighbors to the stand—Granddad, Bug, Sylvie, Emily, even Bootsy stood on thestand and spoke of the kindness and politeness of my children, to which he credited my parenting skills.
Each of them had nothing but kindness and support for me and my children. I blinked back tears at how they chose to show up for us in such a big way.
My hands clamped together in my lap, and I fought back grateful tears.
My lawyer dropped a folded piece of paper in front of me before resuming her position at the front of the court.
I unfolded it and readDo not react.
My brows furrowed as I watched her. “I would like to call my final witness, Abel King.”
My mouth dropped open, and I shot a look at my lawyer. Unfazed, she didn’t spare a glance in my direction. I clamped my lips together.
From the last row of seats, Abel stood. I don’t know how I could have missed him. Dressed in the same bespoke charcoal suit he’d married me in, Abel walked with cool, unhurried strides. The expensive material stretched across his strong chest, and his tailored pants exuded a sumptuous confidence.
If ever there was a King, Abel was it.
His eyes stayed level, focused ahead at the witness stand as the rest of the courtroom collectively tracked his movements with their eyes.
He was strong and powerful and painfully beautiful.
Just as he passed my seat, I felt a soft brush of his finger along the back of my arm. Heat erupted in my chest, and I fought back tears.
He was here. Fighting for me. Fighting for us.
After Abel was sworn in, I stared as he focused his attention on the questions presented by my attorney. She probed about our working relationship, which Abel proclaimed had slowly developed into a romantic one. Her questioningfocused primarily on my relationship with my children and his observations during our time together.
“Sloane is a dedicated and loving mother. I have watched her make every single decision from the sole place of loving and providing for her children. In truth, she is the type of mother I wish I had the opportunity to know as a child.”
My heart ached for the poor, sweet little boy he’d once been. Abel had been robbed of his mother and saw in me the kind of woman strong enough to lovingly raise happy children. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and I quickly swiped it away.