Page 15 of Resisting the Fall

Even if I convinced Judge Rost of the lie with no legal repercussions, I could tell by the way Ben’s head tilted back slightly and his lips had parted that he had already deciphered the truth. My shoulders dropped. “No. I’m not engaged.”

“Are you in a serious relationship?”

“No.” I avoided glancing at Ben, whose focus did not shift from me. “I do, however, have an international commitment that starts in three and a half weeks, and because my Social Security Number is still in my married name, I need an official divorce decree to get my passport renewed.”

“Miss Price, that timeframe is an impossible request.”

My heart thudded when it fell. “But I won’t be able to go, then.” I said it more to myself than anyone else, allowing the thought to settle. Jean-Paul had vouched for me, and now…? I might never get another opportunity like it. Or worse, he’d drop me as one of his freelance musicians.

“I am sorry about that.” For the blow Judge Rost had just dealt, her apology lacked any genuine care. Not that I could blame her. With the beep of her watch, Judge Rost stood. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to the courtroom. If you know which option you’d prefer—the typical route or the thirty-day reconciliation—we can proceed accordingly.”

“What would the thirty-day effort entail?” Ben asked.

She looked at her watch again, clearly in a hurry. “Just a few provisions to ensure you’re certain of your decision and that a reconciliation isn’t possible.”

He didn’t answer, but his gaze shifted to me.

Whatever would get us the divorce faster. “I’m fine with it,” I said.

“Mr. Walker?”

“That works for me.”

“Wonderful.” She opened the door and ushered us out. “The court order will come in the mail to the addresses on file. You can schedule your follow-up hearing for as soon as thirty days after receiving it. I would advise you to get on the calendar quickly as it tends to fill up.” Her gaze shifted between Ben and me, then she smiled like she was actually glad we’d stopped in. “It was good to see you both.”

Ha! I’m sure it was. Delivering the news that I’d have to bail on my Europe plans was likely the vindication she’d been waiting years for. But I refused to let her have the satisfaction. There had to be another way to get a passport.

We stood in the hallway until Judge Rost disappeared through a side door.

“I’m sorry about your international commitment,” Ben said.

Instantly, my despondency morphed into anger. I spun toward him. “No, you aren’t.”

His eyes widened and his head cocked back slightly, like the truth had stung.

I could feel my emotions start to morph again. Nope. I wouldn’t let Ben glimpse all the hurt he’d caused me. Pushing past him, I made my way down the long corridor and toward the exit at a light jog.

“Maven!” Ben’s heavy footsteps sounded behind me as I reached Cassandra’s car in the parking lot. “Can we just talk?”

With shaking hands, I yanked the door open and slid inside, ignoring him. When I went to shut the door, he gripped the top, preventing it from closing.

He leaned in. “Why did you pretend to be engaged?”

I shook my head. “Please let go of the door.”

“Not until you tell me why.”

I placed my hands on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. The sunlight hit my fake engagement ring, and I yanked it off my finger, tossing it into the cup holder.

“Maven?”

“I assumed it would be easier,” I snapped, in no mood to expound.

His gaze remained fixed on me, like he was trying to make sense of my statement. Which, now that I’d said it, was the last thing I currently wanted him to wrap his mind around.

I yanked on the door again, but he still held it. “Can you let go of my door now? I need to go home—to New York—and figure out how else I can get a passport.”

There was indecision in his expression. “I have an idea.”