The courthouse hallway smelled like old paper, stale coffee, and other people's desperation. People came and went with briefcases under their arms, lawyers speaking in codes only they understood, destroyed families waiting their turn to be judged. And there we were—another destroyed family, another story of love and betrayal about to be dissected by strangers in robes.
I sat on the hard wooden bench, one hand on my belly, the other gripping Marco's. He was tense, jaw clenched, eyes scanning the hallway as if expecting an attack at any moment. I knew he would kill for me. I knew he would face Daniel right there, with his bare hands, if he could. But he couldn't. Now the fight was in a different arena, with different weapons.
"You okay?" he asked, for the fifth time in ten minutes.
"It wi
