Page 30 of No Turning Back
Less than a day later, I’m sitting in his office, watching him finish up a call.
“All right,” he says, putting the landline down. Then folding his hands, he looks up at me. “Mrs. Barnes said you had an urgent matter.”
“Well,” I say, twisting my hands in my lap, “I guess it is.”
I take a breath, then say it once and for all. “I want to divorce my husband.”
He nods slowly. “I see.”
He presses a button. “Patricia, hold my calls.”
Opening the file in front of him, he grabs a pen. His silver hair shines in the light, neat and slicked back just enough to catch attention. Sharp eyes, a strong jawline, yeah, I can see what my mom meant. Philip Dunbar is clearly handsome.
Philip leans back slightly in his chair, pen paused over the file. His sharp eyes study me carefully, like he’s weighing every word before speaking.
“So,” he says slowly, voice calm but firm, “what’s the reason for the divorce?”
I hesitate, then look up, meeting his gaze. “He cheated. Knocked up someone else.”
There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes, just for a second, but he keeps his face composed. A subtle tightening around his mouth.
“I see,” he says quietly, tapping his pen against the desk. “That’s... difficult. And I imagine it complicates things, especially with the child involved.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. It’s a mess.”
He studies me again, more gently this time. “I’ll do everything I can to help you through this. But I need to know everything, so we can plan the best way forward.”
Philip leans forward slightly, pen poised. “So, how long have you two been married?”
“Six years,” I say. “Together for eight.”
He nods. “And any joint property or assets?”
“Just the house,” I answer. “He’s rarely home, so we kinda keep finances separate.”
“Any prenuptial agreement or legal paperwork about your finances?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Who lives in the house now?”
“He does,” I admit. “I moved out temporarily, things were already rocky.”
“Was this when he cheated?” Philip asks.
I take a deep breath and tell him the whole story, Markus leaving, me not answering his calls, my dad’s death, everything that came after. He listens without interrupting, just nodding here and there, his pen moving occasionally.
We go through more questions, his work history, whether he’s earning anything now, a bunch of other details I barely keep straight. It’s all facts and dates on the surface, but underneath, it still feels raw.
“Well,” Philip says, putting the pen down, “Texas is a no-fault state, which means you don’t have to prove cheating to get a divorce. But in your case, the infidelity could still factor in when we talk about dividing property or negotiating terms.”
I nod, trying to take it in.
“As for alimony, technically, in Texas it’s called spousal maintenance, it’s not automatic. Markus being a veteran and unemployed doesn’t guarantee he’ll get it. They look at the length of the marriage, his ability to earn, and whether you can meet your own needs. Given that you’re also ex-military and working, we’d argue he’s capable of supporting himself.”
“And the house?” I ask.
He leans back. “Since it’s joint property, the court would likely treat it as community property, meaning it’s split fifty-fifty. But the fact that you paid more toward the downpayment could be relevant. If you want to keep the house, we’d look at a buyout arrangement, either you pay him his share or offset it with other assets.”
