Taylor gulped, knowing each and every one of those bruises by heart. He knew them by taste and feel. His heart sank seeing the photos, seeing Jude in distress and covering herself, clearly photographed against her will. Taylor cleared his throat and nudged Caleb, who was starting to lose ground on the case. “I need a minute with my client.”

Judge Matthews said, “I’ll give you two and it better be good.”

Caleb and Taylor walked to the far corner of the room and Taylor whispered, “I would never hit her. I would never hurt her.”

“What are the marks?”

Taylor hated exposing their intimacy so publicly but he had no choice. “I gave them to her when we made love the other day. They’re hickeys.”

Caleb looked him square in the eyes, and asked, “Are you sure?”

Annoyed, Taylor responded, “Of course I’m sure. I knew what I was doing and…” Taking a deep breath, he added, “and she liked it.”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “I can’t go back there and debate that she liked it. We’ve got to stick to our side of the story and the facts.”

“I would never intentionally hurt her.”

“Listen to me. Do not say another word in here. I mean it. Not one damn word no matter what he says. He’s trying to get another rise out of you to prove you’re violent. So sit there and don’t give him shit. Got it?”

“Got it.” Taylor felt like he was starting to drown under the accusations coupled with the warrant. That he couldn’t talk to Jude had added another level of stress to their already fucked-up situation. He sat back down and his shoulders hunched forward as he had clear visions of his defeat sitting on his horizon.

Caleb cleared his throat, and stated, “Those are love marks given and happily received during lovemaking. My client would not hurt the woman he loves and is trying to protect.” He pushed the photos back to the other lawyer. “If he is being accused of domestic violence that is something we will not tolerate and will fight wholeheartedly.”

Judge Matthews was losing his patience. “This case is getting off track. Since we don’t have the petitioners here to verify one way or the other, we cannot prove if those bruises at this time were made through abuse or other means. With that said, for the sake of our time and the petitioner’s protection, I’m granting the restraining order to be upheld for a total of three days, reducing it from six months. We can reconvene with the two parties and witnesses at that time to determine how this will extend beyond the three days.” He stood and said, “Good day, gentleman.”

Taylor was left speechless. Caleb was fuming but held his poker face. The Boehler lawyer chuckled under his breath as he gathered the photos and file together. “Better luck next time,” he said, gloating.

There was so much Taylor wanted to say, but listening to Caleb, he remained silent. His hands, both at the same time, started trembling and he looked down at them in his lap as if they were detached from his own body. Stress incited the disease and he was feeling the effects.

Caleb instructed him to leave and not to say anything until they were out of the courthouse. Taylor followed him out and the two men walked in silence side by side down the sidewalk. “That went to shit,” Caleb announced, looking down the street once they stopped. “But it’s not over. We’ve just been given three days to gather our evidence and get our case together. That’s a good thing.”

“How is it good again? Is it the part that I don’t get to see her for three more days or that I was just accused of beating my wife? Or is the good part that I apparently coerced Jude into marrying me against her will? I’m lost, so feel free to help me out here.”

“Other than the coercion, those accusations are not cited on the restraining order. They spared you that, so we can deal with it now. We know what we’re up against. We will be more prepared when we reconvene.” Looking Taylor in the eyes, he said, “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t go over there. Don’t call them. Don’t contact them in any form. Everything you do or say will be used against you in this case. For us to win, we need to keep you squeaky clean. If we can, I have no doubt she’ll walk out of here with you on Friday.”

“She’ll be here?”

“Yes, he wants them present. She’ll have to look you in the eyes and accuse you of coercion for this order to stay in place. Is there any chance she’ll do that?” He searched Taylor’s eyes for any tick that might let him know if he’s lying.

Staring him unflinchingly in the eyes, he replied. “No. None.”

Caleb nodded, pleased. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” The two men started walking toward the corner. Caleb put his arm out and hailed a cab. As he was getting in, he said, “Hang tight. We’ll take them down on Friday. In the meantime, I’ll do my due diligence. Keep your phone handy and yourself out of trouble.” The door slammed closed and the taxi drove off.

Taylor stood on that corner for minutes… at least five disorienting minutes before his feet started moving. He didn’t know where he was going but he knew there was nothing at his apartment worth hurrying back for.

When he looked up at the cloudy day, his life seemed to play on a projector before his eyes, for a brief second worrying him that maybe he was dying. As he walked down the street, he recalled so many of the times Taylor had been called a “Golden Boy.” With a nickname like that to live up to, he was always doomed to fail in some way.

Parkinson’s.

Katherine.

His parents.

Rufus.

And now, Jude’s family.

The world seemed determined to right the wrong it made when the boy was born too smart, too handsome, too kindhearted, too talented, too much of everything. Karma wanted her penance and she was taking it threefold.

But what none of them counted on, and what Karma couldn’t predict was that the “Golden Boy” was also too determined to let fate destroy his happiness. Jude was not in a power position. She was at the mercy of the courts, the hospital, and her family. She may not be able to fight, but he could, and he would. He’d fight not just for her, but for him. His whole heart and soul were wrapped up in the woman he was just forced to leave behind.

All the depressing shit that had happened to him, fine. Whatever. But this, he refused to accept it, refused to let anyone else dictate his future.

Taylor would get Jude back. There would be a way to prove them wrong and he was determined to find it.

THERE WAS NO way to properly prepare to have your life shoved under a microscope, dissected, and left to defend the mutilated pieces that were pulled apart out of context under examination. But Taylor tried his best. He wore his wedding suit to court that morning, hoping the threads that bound her to him would hold strong today. It had been three days since he’d seen Jude. He was ready to defend his love and get his wife back.

June twelfth. Caleb was waiting for him outside the courthouse at a coffee stand on the corner, and wasted no time with his client. “Do not talk unless you are on the stand. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Do not make eye contact with anyone other than the judge. Got it?”

“Not even Jude?”

“She’s different. We need her sympathies on our side.”

“Sympathies? We’re married.”

Caleb didn’t respond to that. He just raised a perplexed brow. “Do not make eye contact, Taylor, with anyone else. Not her parents or any member of her family or her legal team. They’ll read it as aggressive and use it against you. Remember they will try to goad you as proof that the order should be kept intact. Don’t give them that reason. Got it?”

“Got it.”

He stopped and looked at Taylor. Caleb Monroe was very serious in tone for eight in the morning, but Taylor liked that. Caleb warned, “Speak to no one but the judge. No one. Got it?”