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‘Now that we’re all here,’ the judge said by way of segue from one opinionated rant to another, ‘I am ready to hear your application for divorce.’
‘As both parties are in agreement—’ Simon began, before the judge cut him off.
‘Are they?’ the judge asked Simon. ‘Are you?’ he demanded, looking between Antonio and Ivy.
Antonio nodded once, firm and decisive.
Several little bobs of Ivy’s head confirmed her agreement.
‘Really?’ the judge demanded of her again.
All eyes turned to Ivy.
‘Yes?’ she answered hesitantly.
‘That sounds more like a question than a statement, Mrs Gallo.’
Ivy blinked, as if surprised to hear herself addressed as such. She opened her mouth to speak but, once again, the judge cut in.
‘Do you know what?’ the judge asked them, apparently without requiring a response. ‘Ibelievein marriage. I believe in thesanctityof it. I believe that once you make that binding declaration, your lives are entwined for ever,’ he said, his finger striking his desk with each sentence. ‘I’m not religious, and I’m not a legal zealot. But I believe in the importance and inviolability of giving your word to something.
‘So, Antonio Gallo, are you a man whose word is not of value?’ the judge demanded, much to the horror of his lawyer.
‘Absolutely not,’ Antonio replied indignantly.
‘Yet you promised to love, protect and honour this woman,’ the judge accused, pointing at Ivy. ‘And nothing about your marriage, your time together or yourprenupimplies the slightest hint of that.’
Antonio frowned.
‘A prenup which gives Mrs Gallo nothing, is that correct?’
‘Yes.’
That had been their agreement. He had paid Ivy two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to marry him. She had agreed that she had no right to anything beyond that, and as such the divorce was supposed to have been easy. His lawyers had assured him of such a thing.
Clearly no one had expected Carmondy.
‘You signed this willingly?’ the judge asked, waving a piece of paper at Ivy.
She nodded.
‘Did you have a lawyer present?’
She bit her lip before swallowing. ‘I didn’t need one, Your Honour. I knew what I was signing.’
The judge’s gaze turned on Antonio accusatorily. ‘When you married her, she became your family. She becameyours, not to own, but to protect, to care for. It is a responsibility you have deeply neglected,’ the judge stated.
‘Hold on a minute—’ Antonio said, nearly rising to his feet. He was enduring this entire farce precisely because hewastrying to protect his family.
‘Don’t interrupt me,’ the judge warned.
Antonio ground his teeth together so hard he’d need to see a dentist when he got back to Italy.
‘I am sick to the back teeth of people marrying and divorcing willy nilly.’
Was the man having a stroke? Why was he talking about teeth? What on earth was a nilly? And what did it have to do with male anatomy?
‘Are you okay?’ Antonio asked.