Page 42 of No Turning Back
The door swings open and in strolls Markus, followed by his lawyer. Both of them are slightly out of breath, straightening their clothes like they just got caught sneaking back in after curfew.
Is he seriously sleeping with his lawyer? Or trying to make me jealous? I don’t know, and I really don’t care.
“Sorry we’re late,” Markus says, smirking, running a hand through his hair.
I bite my tongue. In the corner, the court reporter’s fingers are already flying across the keys.
Philip doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s alright,” he drawls, Texas accent thick enough to spread on toast. “You weren’t that long.”
I have to bite mylipthis time to keep from grinning when that one wipes the smirk right off Markus’s face.
They sit across from us, shuffling papers. Philip leans back in his chair, cool as ever.
The court reporter looks at me. “Do you solemnly swear or affirm to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“I do.”
Ms. Connelly clicks her pen. “Alright. Just a reminder, the court reporter is recording everything you say, so please answer verbally, no nodding or shrugging. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
She glances down at her notes. “Good. Let’s start with some basics for the record. Please state your full name.”
“Quinn Reed Barnes.”
“And your current address?”
Philip sits perfectly still beside me, but I can feel him ready to jump in if she steps over the line. Markus leans back in his chair like he’s watching a show.
I rattle off Sam’s address without thinking, watching Ms. Connelly’s pen scratch across the page. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Markus’s eyebrows shoot up, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. She moves through the basics, date of birth, place of employment, until her pen stills.
“Have you ever slept with anyone other than your husband?”
I must make a face, because she tilts her head and says, “It’s a simple question.”
Philip doesn’t even let me open my mouth. “Actually, that’s a vague and overly broad question,” he says, his voice smooth but sharp. “You’re going to need to clarify your time frame, your definition, and your relevance before my client answers that.”
Ms. Connelly smirks like she’s been waiting for this. “Fine. Since the date of the marriage.”
“Still vague,” Philip says. “Do you mean sexual intercourse, or are you including anything you personally decide counts?”
I’m half-tempted to grab popcorn.
Ms. Connelly exhales like she’s already over it. “Fine. Sexual intercourse.”
Philip nods once. “And you’re alleging this is relevant to the division of assets… how?”
Her smile tightens. “It goes to credibility.”
“That’s not a basis for asking about my client’s sexual history without a specific claim attached,” Philip says, calm as a surgeon. “If you’re alleging infidelity during the marriage, make the allegation on the record so we can address it properly. Otherwise, move on.”
She flips a page in her notes, the paper making an angry snap. “Did you, at any point during the marriage, engage in sexual intercourse with any person other than your husband?”
Philip leans forward, elbows on the table. “Specific dates.”
“I don’t have specific dates.”
“Then you don’t have a question my client is obligated to answer,” Philip says, settling back in his chair.
