Maybe that’s enough. Grace reached across the table and took his hand. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.
But Desmond, don’t let her off easy just because you’re tired. You deserve better than that. I know.
I’ll think about it carefully. I promise. The rest of the day was a blur of phone calls, emails and messages.
Friends checking in. Business associates congratulating him. Even people he hadn’t talked to in years reaching out to say they had heard the news.
Everyone had an opinion about what Desmond should do. Some said he should write a book. Others said he should do a TV interview and tell the world his story.
A few people even suggested he should forgive Monica and move on completely. But Desmond ignored most of the advice. Only he knew what he needed.
Only he understood the depth of the betrayal and the pain it had caused. By evening, Desmond was exhausted again. He went back to the guest room, he still couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the master bedroom, and lay down.
His phone buzzed one more time. It was a text from an unknown number. He almost didn’t open it.
But curiosity got the better of him. The message said, Mr Adams this is Detective Rodriguez. I thought you should know, we found the mechanic who sabotaged your car.
His name is Tony Miller. He’s confessed to everything. Monica paid him $10,000 to cut your brake lines.
He’s been arrested and is cooperating with the investigation. Just wanted to keep you informed. Desmond stared at the message.
$10,000. That’s what his life was worth to Monica. $10,000 paid to a stranger to kill him.
He put down his phone and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would start rebuilding. Tomorrow he would make decisions about the plea deal in the future.
But tonight he just wanted to rest. The storm was passing. And slowly, painfully, Desmond was beginning to heal.
A week passed. Then two. The media attention slowly died down as other stories took over the headlines.
But Desmond’s life remained changed forever. He spent most of his time working with his lawyer, organizing his finances and trying to return to normal. But what was normal anymore? His marriage was over.
His trust was shattered. His home felt different. Grace visited him every day making sure he ate and slept.
She was worried about him. Desmond had lost weight and the dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse. You need to make a decision about the plea deal, Grace told him one afternoon.
They were sitting in Desmond’s office, the same office where this whole plan had started months ago. Monica’s lawyer is waiting for an answer. Desmond stared out the window at the city below.
I’ve been thinking about it constantly. Every day I go back and forth. What’s holding you back? If I accept the plea deal Monica gets five years.
Five years for trying to murder me. That feels too light Grace. Like she’s getting away with it.
But if you reject it and go to trial you’ll spend the next year in courtrooms. Every detail of your marriage will be examined. Reporters will follow you everywhere.
Is that what you want? Desmond was quiet for a long moment. No. I don’t want that.
I’ve already lost enough time to Monica. I don’t want to give her any more of my life. So what are you going to do? Desmond turned from the window and looked at his sister.
I’m going to accept the plea deal. But on one condition. What condition? Monica has to stand up in court and confess everything.
Every lie. Every betrayal. The sabotage breaks.
The affair with Elijah. The plan to steal my money. She has to say it all out loud in front of a judge in a courtroom full of people.
No hiding. No excuses. Complete honesty.
Grace smiled. I think that’s perfect. Public confession is its own kind of punishment.
Desmond called Mr. Harrison and told him the decision. The lawyer agreed to add the confession requirement to the plea deal terms. Monica won’t like it, Mr. Harrison warned.
She’ll have to admit to some very ugly things publicly. I know, Desmond said. But if she wants the reduced sentence she’ll have to do it.
Truth is the price of mercy. Two days later Mr. Harrison called back. Monica agreed.
She’ll make the full confession in court next Friday. The judge has scheduled a hearing. Friday arrived with gray skies and light rain.
Desmond dressed in a simple black suit and drove to the courthouse with Grace by his side. The courtroom was packed. Reporters filled the back rows.
Some of Desmond’s friends were there to support him. And in the front, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit sat Monica. She looked different.
Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. No makeup. No jewelry.
No designer clothes. She looked small and ordinary. Not at all like the glamorous woman who had thrown an engagement party in a white dress.
When Monica saw Desmond enter she looked down at her hands immediately. She couldn’t meet his eyes. The judge, a stern woman in her 60s named Judge Patricia Miller, called the court to order.
We’re here today for the plea hearing of Monica Adams, Judge Miller said. Mrs. Adams, you’ve agreed to plead guilty to conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder and fraud. Is that correct? Yes your honor, Monica said quietly.
Before I accept your plea Mr. Adams has requested that you make a full confession of your crimes. You’ve agreed to this requirement. Is that also correct? Monica swallowed hard.
Yes your honor. Then please proceed. And remember you’re under oath.
Everything you say must be the complete truth. Monica stood up slowly. Her hands were shaking.
She took a deep breath and began to speak. My name is Monica Adams. I’ve been married to Desmond Adams for seven years.
Her voice was barely a whisper at first but the microphone picked it up. I, I need to confess to some terrible things I’ve done. The courtroom was completely silent.
Everyone leaned forward listening. When I married Desmond I told him I loved him. But that wasn’t entirely true…
