Chapter 4: The Last Goodbye
With no other choice, I tried to beg Samantha. For the sake of our years together. For our son.
I swallowed my pride. My anger. Forced myself to ask her for help. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I knelt in front of her, begging in a low voice:
The courtroom was empty except for us. I looked up at her, tears streaming down my face.
“Samantha, please don’t take this case. Benji is your own son—he deserves justice. If you just don’t take the case, I’ll agree to anything you want.”
My voice broke. I would have given her anything. If it meant justice for Benji.
Samantha just helped me up. All business.
She straightened my tie, brushed imaginary dust off my jacket. Her face was stone.
“Mark, you’re a lawyer too. Even if I don’t take the case, someone else will. Besides, Cameron is my brother. Out of respect for Dad, I can’t let him go to jail.”
She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. I wanted to scream at her. To shake her until she understood.
“I’ll say it again: the living have to move forward. Benji wouldn’t want you to fall apart. Look at yourself—you’re a mess.” Her words were calm for once. But still sharp as knives.
She looked me up and down, her gaze cold. I felt like I was being dissected.
“If we get divorced, will you just go be with Cameron?” I asked quietly. I could barely get the words out. My throat was tight. My heart pounding.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Cameron is my brother. We’re husband and wife. This is just business—no matter who it is, I’d take the case.”
She crossed her arms, lips pressed into a thin line. I didn’t believe her for a second.
“I haven’t even blamed you yet! Your mom wasn’t watching Benji, out line dancing with her friends. If she hadn’t gone, would this have happened?” Samantha shouted, as if I’d hit a nerve.
Her voice rose, sharp and angry. She always did this—deflected, blamed someone else.
She took a breath, then added, “Don’t overthink it. We’ll have more kids in the future.”
She tried to soften her tone, but it came out hollow. I stared at her, incredulous.
I found it laughable. Cameron is your brother. Kids? We’ll have more kids?
I almost laughed in her face. She didn’t get it. She never would.
You know, the condoms you and your brother used in college—I was the one who bought them.
That memory cut deeper than any knife. I stood there, empty. The truth finally too much to bear.













