I messaged Claire and asked to meet.
We sat across from each other in a coffee shop that smelled like burnt espresso. She looked exhausted.
“I’m not here to attack you,” I said. “I’m here because Elliot asked me to lie to the court.”
Her jaw tightened. “He said you’d say that.”
“He has a four-year-old daughter,” I said. “She was conceived while we were married.”
She stood up so fast her chair scraped the floor. “You’re bitter!”
“I’m here because Elliot asked me to lie to the court.”
“Did he tell you he claimed infertility during our marriage while hiding his only child?” I asked quietly.
She froze, clearly unaware of the additional lies.
“I won’t confirm a lie,” I said. “But I won’t chase you either. The choice is yours.”
She left without saying another word.
***
Weeks passed. The silence stretched.
Then the subpoena arrived.
Claire had obviously turned over our messages to Elliot’s lawyers.
“But I won’t chase you either.”
In court, Elliot wouldn’t look at me. His wife sat stiffly beside him.
“Did Elliot ask you to misrepresent your divorce?” the attorney asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“And was it mutual and kind?”
“No. We divorced mainly because we couldn’t have children. He claimed he was infertile while fathering a little girl behind my back.”
The courtroom filled with gasps.
The judge ultimately ruled against Elliot.
“Did Elliot ask you to misrepresent your divorce?”
