The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY novel Chapter 50

Chapter 10

Richard and Jake are stunned.

They stare at me, then at the report in the doctor’s hands. Their faces show pure shock.

The doctor obviously senses the weird tension.

She sets the report on the nightstand, mutters some advice about rest, then gets the hell out.

The room goes dead silent.

Except for my muffled sobs.

Why?

Why now?

Right when I discovered my husband’s betrayal. Right when gave up on this marriage completely. Now this baby

comes.

Like some late angel landing in the middle of ruins.

What do I do?

Keep the baby?

Let him grow up in a loveless home?

Live forever in the shadow of his father’s betrayal?

No.

I can’t be that selfish.

My tears flow harder.

My heart tears in half–part maternal joy, part bone–deep despair.

Richard watches me, lips moving but staying quiet.

He just walks over and pats my shoulder gently.

“Emma, don’t cry. You’ll make yourself sick.”

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

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Chapter 10

“Whatever you decide, I support you.”

He said “you,” not “you both.”

He’s treating me like his own daughter now.

Jake grabs my hand, eyes red.

“Emma, don’t be scared. I’m here.”

Right. I have family.

I’m not alone.

My crying slowly stops, but my eyes stay empty.

I don’t know how much time passes before the door opens again.

Connor.

He’s changed out of his ruined suit into a clean white shirt.

But he looks worse than me.

Pale, exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

He sees Richard and freezes, wanting to back out.

“GET IN HERE!”

Richard roars.

Connor forces himself inside.

He won’t look at Richard or Jake.

His eyes lock on me, full of regret and desperation.

“Emma…”

Richard cuts him off.

“KNEEL!”

Connor’s body shakes. He stares at his father in disbelief.

“Dad…”

Uushad the Judge: GUILTY

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Chapter 10

“I SAID KNEEL!”

No room for argument.

Connor grits his teeth, his knees buckle, and he drops to the floor in front of my bed.

Head down, he starts kowtowing.

“Emma, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“Hit me, scream at me, whatever makes you feel better.”

I look at him feeling absolutely nothing.

Hit him? Scream?

What’s the point?

I ignore him and pick up the pregnancy report.

I stare at the tiny ultrasound image. A blurry sac.

My heart starts aching again.

I take a deep breath.

Then slowly tear the report in half.

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