Part 3: Seeking Justice
The morning sun broke through the gray Ohio clouds, casting long, sharp shadows across the parking lot of the Maple Leaf Inn. I stood by the window, a styrofoam cup of lukewarm black coffee in my hand, watching the traffic roll by on Route 3.
My appointment with Attorney Eleanor Vance was set for ten o’clock this morning. Eleanor had earned a reputation in Columbus as a shark in a tailored pantsuit—fair, unflappable, and entirely unimpressed by wealthy husbands who tried to hide assets during a split.
“Mommy, can we have pancakes?” Lily asked, emerging from the bathroom rubbing her eyes, still wearing her dinosaur pajamas.
“Pancakes it is,” I said, kneeling down to adjust her collar. “Then we’re going to go visit a very smart lady who is going to help us make sure we have a nice, safe new home.”
By nine-thirty, we were checked out and driving toward downtown Columbus. The city was bustling with commuters, the morning air crisp with the promise of autumn.
Eleanor Vance’s office occupied the fourteenth floor of a sleek glass-and-steel building overlooking the Scioto River. The waiting room smelled of expensive leather and fresh lilies. When the receptionist called our names, I took Lily’s hand, and we walked into a corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows.
Eleanor stood behind her mahogany desk, a tall woman in her late forties with silver-streaked dark hair, sharp green eyes, and an impeccably tailored charcoal suit. She walked around the desk to greet us, bypassing the usual corporate formality to crouch down in front of Lily.
“Hello there,” Eleanor said, her voice warm and approachable. “I’m Eleanor. Are you Lily?”
“Yes,” Lily whispered shyly.
“Well, Lily, I have some coloring books and markers over at that table by the window if you’d like to draw while your mom and I talk about some boring adult paperwork.”
Lily looked up at me for permission, and I nodded. Once Lily was safely engrossed in coloring a majestic blue horse, Eleanor gestured for me to take a seat opposite her desk.
She opened a leather-bound notebook and picked up a heavy Montblanc pen. “Let’s start with the basics, Mrs. Hayes. You walked out last night, you have a safe place for the night, and you want to initiate dissolution proceedings. Tell me everything.”
For the next forty-five minutes, I laid it all out. I didn’t cry. I didn’t hesitate. I detailed Marcus’s salary as a senior operations director at Apex Logistics, the mortgage on our Columbus townhouse, the secret savings account I maintained, and the tipping point—the eight-thousand-nine-hundred-and-forty-dollar receipt for a baby grand piano purchased for the son of a coworker named Vanessa.
Eleanor listened intently, jotting down notes with swift, precise strokes. When I mentioned Vanessa’s name, her eyebrows arched slightly.
“Vanessa? Would that be Vanessa Miller?” Eleanor asked.
I blinked, surprised. “You know her?”
A thin, knowing smile touched Eleanor’s lips. “Not personally, but her husband—or rather, her ex-husband, Richard Miller—was a client of mine last year. Their divorce was finalized six months ago. Richard discovered that Vanessa had been carrying on an extensive workplace affair with a senior executive at Apex Logistics. Let me check my files... yes, Marcus Hayes.”
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
My breath caught in my throat. “Marcus? They were having an affair before her divorce?”
“According to the evidence Richard’s private investigator gathered, yes,” Eleanor said smoothly. “Marcus was heavily involved in supporting her through her legal proceedings, paying for legal retainers under the guise of ‘corporate loans,’ and spending late nights at the office. Richard wanted to drag Marcus into the depositions, but Vanessa begged off to protect her custody arrangement. Your husband bought her a very comfortable landing pad, it seems.”
A bitter taste flooded my mouth. For months, Marcus had gaslit me, calling me insecure whenever I questioned his late nights at the office, accusing me of lacking empathy for Vanessa’s ‘difficult transition as a single mother.’ All the while, he was funding her life, setting up a nest with another man’s wife, and treating our daughter like an afterthought.
“Can we use this?” I asked, my voice dropping an octave.
Eleanor’s green eyes flashed with a predatory glint. “Oh, Mrs. Hayes. We aren't just going to use this. We are going to unearth every single financial transaction Marcus has made over the last twenty-four months. If he used marital funds to finance Vanessa’s lifestyle, gifts, or legal fees, the court will force him to reimburse our marital estate dollar for dollar. Furthermore, given his blatant alienation of affection and financial favoritism toward another child while neglecting his own daughter, we will be seeking primary physical custody, exclusive occupancy of the marital home, spousal support, and full legal fees.”
She closed her notebook and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk.
“Are you prepared to play hardball, Victoria?”
May you like
I looked across the room at Lily, who was humming softly to herself as she added green grass beneath her blue horse. The memory of Marcus’s cold, dismissive face in our kitchen flashed in my mind.
“Hardball isn’t strong enough,” I said, meeting Eleanor’s gaze head-on. “Let’s take everything he thinks he owns.”
