Chapter 9 - The Settlement Table
Three months later.
The final divorce settlement conference took place in a sunlit mediation suite overlooking the Chicago River.
Diego sat across the mahogany table with a court-appointed public defense attorney. He had officially surrendered his law license to avoid formal disbarment proceedings, agreeing to work as a legal researcher for a small suburban firm making a fraction of his former income.
Lucia slid the final forty-page Master Divorce Agreement across the polished table.
"Let us review the final terms," Lucia stated smoothly.
"First: Full, absolute sole legal and physical custody of Sofía Ruiz awarded to the mother, Verónica Ruiz. Mr. Diego Ruiz is granted zero visitation rights, subject to review only after the completion of a mandatory 52-week court-approved domestic violence rehabilitation and parenting course."
Diego signed his initials on the bottom corner of the page without saying a word.
"Second," Lucia continued, "the marital home on Cedar Street is awarded solely to Mrs. Ruiz, with Mr. Ruiz waiving all equity claims as restitution for fraudulent asset transfer. Third: The forty-two thousand dollars in escrow is returned entirely to Mrs. Ruiz to establish a private college trust fund for Sofía."
Diego gripped his pen tightly, his knuckles turning white, but he signed his initials again.
"And finally," Lucia concluded, "Mr. Ruiz will pay monthly child support of eight hundred dollars, automatically garnished from his monthly wages."
Diego looked up, his voice cracking slightly. "I barely make two thousand dollars a month right now, Lucia. Eight hundred dollars leaves me with almost nothing for rent."
Lucia met his gaze with an unyielding, razor-sharp stare.
"Then I suggest you get a second job driving ride-share on the weekends, Diego," Lucia said coldly. "Because your daughter's birthday cake costs money."
Diego swallowed hard. He pulled the final page toward himself, pressing the pen onto the signature line, signing his full name: Diego Ruiz.
He pushed the papers back across the table.
I pulled the document toward myself, picked up my favorite black ink pen, and signed my name firmly on the line marked Petitioner: Verónica Castillo.
I had legally restored my maiden name.
The court mediator stamped the final page with the official gold seal of the State of Illinois.
"Congratulations, Ms. Castillo," the mediator said warmly, shaking my hand. "You are officially divorced."
I stood up from the table, taking my leather briefcase in hand.
Diego stood up as well, looking at me across the wide table. "Can I... can I at least give Sofía a birthday card next year?"
I looked at him—a man who had finally realized the true cost of his cowardice.
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"If you complete your 52-week course, Diego," I said gently, "and if Sofía wants to read it... I'll let her decide. But her life is her own now. She doesn't belong to your family story anymore."
I turned and walked out of the conference room into the bright afternoon sunlight.
