He then pulled Willette into his arms, his eyes red as he pressed her forward toward the camera.
“Love, tell everyone who you really love?”
Pushed into the spotlight, Willette hesitated for a few seconds before speaking. Her words cut like knives as they echoed in my ears.
“Jenson didn’t ruin my marriage. My husband and I divorced long ago.”
Her voice was calm, steady as she added, “I just didn’t want to hurt him or our child, so I kept it quiet. But now that Jenson is being slandered, I have to make it clear.”
The phone slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
It felt like someone was squeezing my heart in a vice, crushing the air out of my lungs.
With trembling hands, I dialed the county clerk's office.
“Hello, what service do you need?”
“I… I want to check whether Willette Pearce-Crawford and I, Craig Crawford, filed for divorce.”
“Please hold,” the clerk replied, and after a beat, she continued, “Yes, according to our records, you and Ms. Willette Pearce-Crawford officially registered your divorce eight months ago.”
The voice on the other end kept talking, but my mind had gone blank.
Eight months ago?
Then it hit me.
Back then, she said she wanted to buy insurance for the family. She told me it was her promise, her way of protecting me and the child.
But in reality, she had already been plotting against me.
Too bad she miscalculated one thing.
That day, I had been busy, so she had signed the documents in my place.
Which meant this so-called divorce was invalid.
Suddenly, the livestream screen jolted.
Uniformed officers stepped into the frame.
