After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

#247 “Now, I Would Like to Call My First Witness.”

The evening was calm, with a gentle warmth suffusing the apartment as Sophia and Alexander sat down for dinner. The soft clink of cutlery and the savory aroma of the meal created a comforting atmosphere. Sophia, who had been caught up in a whirlwind of emotions and tasks over the past weeks, seemed to carry a lighter air about her.

“I found the dress, Alex,” she said, a smile spreading across her face as she passed him the salad. “It’s more than just beautiful-it made me feel like a bride.”

Alexander looked up from his plate, his eyes shining with happiness and a touch of relief. “I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he replied earnestly. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

Sophia nodded, her smile lingering as she thought about the dress and the upcoming wedding. Then her expression sobered slightly as she shifted the conversation toward a more somber topic.

“I’ve finalized everything with the case too,” she continued, her voice steady but carrying a weight. “I want to get it over with, Alex. It’s time to put the past behind us and look forward to our future together.”

Alexander reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “I’ll be right there with you,” he assured her, squeezing her hand gently. “Whatever you need, whatever happens, I’m here.”

Sophia felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. It wasn’t just about the wedding or the simple things like choosing a dress or planning a venue-it was about having someone who stood steadfastly beside her through the challenging waves of her father’s case.

you, Alex,” she said, her eyes meeting his with a depth of emotion. ” Knowing you’re with me, it makes

talking about lighter subjects, planning bits of the wedding that were left, and discussing honeymoon destinations. But beneath it all lay a strong current of mutual support and

a palpable tension hanging in the air, the morning sunlight doing little to ease the heavy atmosphere. Sophia woke early, her mind racing with the details of the case, the arguments she had prepared, and

what lay ahead, she managed to maintain a composed exterior, fortified by months of preparation

with her, providing quiet support as she dressed for court. He made her a strong cup of coffee- just the way she liked it-ensuring she had a solid breakfast, knowing she’d need her strength. They didn’t speak much during breakfast; the gravity of the day

and the set line of her jaw. Alexander walked beside her, his presence

judge watched her with a discerning eye, the jury looking expectant, and the gallery filled with anxious observers. Sophia adjusted her papers, cleared her

just to revisit the tragic demise of a respected individual, my father, but to unveil the truth that

ensuring her words sank in, her eyes briefly meeting Alexander’s for

mere accident but a calculated act of violence orchestrated by the defendants sitting before you,” she continued, her finger subtly pointing towards the accused, who shifted uncomfortably

of the defense attorneys stood, his voice projecting as he interjected. ” Objection, Your Honor. The plaintiff is speculating

stick to the facts. You will have the

Honor,” Sophia responded, unfazed. She turned back to the jury, a slight adjustment in her approach. “Let us then examine the facts. We have here,” she gestured to a board with various photos and documents, “telephone records, financial transactions, and eyewitness accounts that weave a tapestry

walked towards the evidence board, picking up a series of photographs that showed her father’s car at various times on the day of his death. “These images captured not just the last day of my father’s life but the

thickened, the jury leaning forward to view the evidence. Sophia’s voice was steady, and her

known in the