Chapter 8 - Samuel’s Utter Ruin
One month later.
Samuel sat in a small, windowless conference room on the fourth floor of the Travis County Courthouse, his head buried in his hands.
Across the table sat his court-appointed attorney. Samuel could no longer afford private legal representation after his father removed him from the family business and cut off his salary.
The door swung open, and I walked in, flanked by my attorney, Marcus.
Samuel looked up. He looked terrible. He had lost fifteen pounds, his clothes were wrinkled, dark circles hung under his eyes, and he hadn't shaved in days.
“Gwen...” Samuel whispered, his voice cracking with desperation. “Gwen, please... I’m begging you. Can I see Anya? Just for ten minutes? I haven't held my daughter in six weeks.”
I sat down across from him, placing a thin legal folder on the table.
“You haven't seen Anya because you refused to sign the temporary custody agreement,” I said calmly.
“Because it required supervised visits!” Samuel yelled, tears streaming down his face. “I’m her father, Gwen! I’m not a criminal!”
“You let your mother mistreat her,” I replied, my voice steady as stone. “You allowed an environment of abuse to exist around a five-week-old infant. Until you complete mandatory parenting classes, anger management, and psychological evaluations, you will not see my daughter unsupervised.”
Samuel fell back into his chair, sobbing quietly. “I lost my job, Gwen. My dad won't even answer my phone calls. He says I ruined his life because I didn't stop Mom.”
“Your father is right,” I said. “You had thirty years to grow a backbone, Samuel. You chose to be your mother’s puppet. And when she attacked your wife and child, you sat on your hands.”
Marcus opened the folder and pushed three documents toward Samuel.
“Mr. Redmond,” Marcus stated. “These are the final terms of the divorce settlement. Captain Calloway is waiving spousal support. However, you will surrender all claims to her military pension, full legal custody of Anya remains with her, and you are required to repay the $180,000 you fraudulently transferred to your mother from her military pay.”
Samuel looked at the papers, then looked at me.
“I don't have $180,000, Gwen,” he choked out. “I have twelve thousand dollars left in my bank account.”
“Then I suggest you sell your sports car,” I said, standing up from the table. “And get a job.”
I turned toward the door.
“Gwen! Wait!” Samuel called out, his hands reaching across the table. “Did you ever love me? Or was I just... a mistake?”
I stopped at the threshold, my hand on the door handle. I turned my head slightly, looking back at him.
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“I loved the man I thought you were, Samuel,” I said softly. “The man who promised to protect me. But you weren't a man. You were just Janelle’s son.”
I pulled the door open and walked out, leaving him alone in the quiet room.
