Chapter Fifteen: The Karma
They were at a sports bar watching a basketball game when Marcus casually mentioned it.
“Hey, didn’t your ex-wife have a friend named Jessica?”
“Jessica Miller. Yeah. Why?”
“I saw her at the grocery store last week. She looked rough, man. I didn’t say anything, but she was crying in the parking lot. Thought you should know.”
Ernest frowned.
“Why would I need to know that?”
Marcus shrugged.
“I don’t know. She was part of that whole mess, right? But she also tried to make it right by telling you the truth. Just thought you’d care.”
The conversation bothered Ernest more than it should have.
He tried to push it aside. But it lingered. Finally, after three days of thinking about it, he did something impulsive.
He called Jessica.
She answered on the fourth ring. Her voice wary.
“Ernest?”
“Yeah. Can we talk?”
They met at the same cafe where she’d apologized to him months ago. This time, Jessica looked even worse. Her eyes were hollow. Her hands shook slightly when she picked up her coffee.
“Are you okay?” Ernest asked.
Surprising himself with the genuine concern in his voice.
Jessica laughed bitterly.
“Define okay? I’m alive. I’m employed. But otherwise? Not really.”
“What happened?”
She was quiet for a long moment. Then the whole story spilled out.
After her conversation with Ernest, Jessica had been consumed with guilt about her role in Kelly’s transformation. She’d started seeing a therapist. Trying to work through her own bitterness about her divorce and how she’d projected that onto her friend.
But the real problem had started when Kelly’s ex-husband — Jessica’s ex-husband’s former law partner — had found out about Jessica’s role in encouraging Kelly’s divorce strategy.
“My ex, Trevor — he and Kelly’s attorney know each other professionally. Word got around about what happened with you and Kelly. About the recording. The strategy. All of it. Trevor called me last month and told me he’s reopening our divorce settlement.”
Ernest felt his stomach drop.
“Can he do that?”
“Apparently yes, in certain circumstances. He’s claiming I misrepresented my intentions during our divorce — that I told the court I wanted to reconcile when I was actually strategizing with an attorney about maximizing my payout.”
She paused.
“Which is true. I did the same thing I encouraged Kelly to do. I hired a divorce attorney six months before I told Trevor I wanted a divorce. I positioned myself strategically. And now he has evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“Text messages. I texted Kelly about my strategy while I was still married to Trevor. Things like ‘playing the long game’ and ‘making sure I get what I’m owed.’ Trevor’s attorney subpoenaed my phone records as part of the reopening. They found everything.”
Jessica’s hands were really shaking now.
“Ernest — they could claw back a significant portion of my settlement. Maybe all of it. And I’ve already spent a lot of it on my apartment, my car, a trip to Europe I took last year. I could end up in debt. Serious debt.”
Ernest sat back in his chair. Processing.
Part of him — the part that was still angry about what Jessica had done — felt grim satisfaction. This was karma. Pure and simple.
But another part of him — the part that was trying to move forward rather than stay mired in bitterness — felt something closer to pity.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
And meant it.
