Brody - Ellie Masters Page 0,122

No tie. Mark abhorrs ties.

There’s no one else in the courtroom and an oppressive silence settles over the room while we wait for the judge.

A few minutes later, the judge enters. We rise and then take our seats again. Mark and his attorney remain standing as the judge begins the proceedings.

This will be the first time the formal charges against Mark will be read. His crime reaches felony status which carries the risk of jail time, significant fines, and restitution.

I don’t want Mark to go to prison. I grip Brody’s hand and squeeze tight. Dara explained all of this to me previously. In California, embezzlement greater than $950 is considered grand theft with the potential of two to three years state prison time. Brody wants them to throw the book at Mark.

I just wish we never made it here in the first place. Why did Mark do this to me? To us?

The judge reads of the formal charges as Mark stands beside his defense attorney. Finally, the judge reaches the end and asks that fateful question.

“Mark Atwood, how do you plea?”

Before answering, Mark bows his head. I don’t know if he’s praying, delaying, or what. His lawyer bends close and they have another short conversation. From the way Mark bristles, I sense he’s not happy with whatever it is his attorney says.

Mark looks up, stares at the judge, then he surprises me and spins around. Rather than directing his response to the judge, he looks directly at me.

“I plead…”

I take in a breath and it feels as if my insides twist into a knot. If he pleads ‘not-guilty’ we have a long, arduous, legal battle ahead of us. Years worth of depositions and trials, headaches and heartaches.

I tense beside Brody. He places his arm around my shoulder and tugs me close. Mark’s gaze shifts to Brody and he swallows thickly. I watch his Adam’s apple bob and fall. I don’t know what the two of them exchange in that heated glare, except Mark’s gaze softens when he swings his focus back on me.

“I plead guilty, your Honor.”

Mark’s attorney glances at the floor and his shoulders slump. Dara looks surprised. Her gaze darts between me and Mark.

Despite all the evidence stacked against Mark, there was still a chance he could have the entire case dismissed. In some ways, I’m surprised as well. I don’t know why he’s not fighting it.

Does he want to go to jail?

I get it. We were ready for a long drawn out process, but not once did I expect a plea of guilty. That carries mandatory jail time. The fines will be exorbitant, and I’m sure the judge will order some amount of restitution.

“What the hell?” Brody’s molars grind together and his entire body goes rigid.

“Why…?” The rest of what I was going to ask is lost when Mark mouths I’m sorry. I don’t know if anyone sees it but me, but I find comfort in his silent apology.

The judge appears as confused at the rest of the room, but he quickly wraps things up, concluding Mark’s arraignment. We stand as the judge departs then another awkward silence descends on the room.

“What the hell is he thinking?” Brody grinds his teeth. He shifts, but I place a hand on his thigh.

“Let me.”

I could hate Mark. I could rake him over the coals and ruin the rest of his life. I could’ve done that and more with Brody, but I didn’t with Brody and I won’t with Mark. Edging around Brody, I make my way to the aisle.

While Mark’s attorney puts his things together, Mark makes his way to me. There’s pain in his gaze, a haunted expression, remorse lies there as well. That’s all I need.

We don’t speak, but I open my arms for him. Mark breaks down, choking on a sob, and buries himself in my embrace.

I don’t know what the future holds for us, for him, but we’ll face it together.

Like a family that fights and laughs, loves and argues, Mark and I will find our way through this.

Brody says nothing, but he stands close, arm’s length away and ready to jump in and defend me, if the need arises.

Mark and I part. I swipe a tear from the corner of my eye and he does the same. We stare at each other, and then a smile lifts my lips and my spirit as well. I bet there’s a white dove out there taking flight, and I know my mother has a hand in this.

I