Updated Feb 23, 2026 • ~6 min read
POV: Rory
The courtroom is smaller than I expected.
Less dramatic. Just a judge, two lawyers, and three people whose lives are about to be legally dissected.
Dominic sits in the middle. Literally and figuratively.
Celeste on one side with her lawyer.
Me on the other with Rebecca.
We’re here for the preliminary hearing on Celeste’s annulment petition.
The judge—a stern woman in her sixties named Judge Patricia Morrison—reviews the paperwork.
“This is… unusual,” she says finally.
That’s an understatement.
“Let me make sure I understand. Mrs. Celeste Ashford, you were in a medically induced coma following a car accident in June 2021?”
“Yes, your Honor,” Celeste’s lawyer answers.
“And Mr. Ashford was told by medical professionals that you would not recover?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Ashford, you remarried in 2024 believing your first wife was deceased?”
Dominic nods. “Yes, your Honor.”
“And Mrs…. Ms. Bennett,” she looks at me. “You entered this marriage unaware of the first wife’s existence?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Judge Morrison looks back at the paperwork.
“So we have three parties, all of whom acted in good faith, in an impossible situation. Mr. Ashford, why did you not file for divorce from your first wife?”
“She was in a coma, your Honor. The lawyers advised me I couldn’t divorce someone who was medically incapacitated without their consent or a guardianship proceeding.”
“Did you pursue guardianship?”
“I… no. The facility said it wasn’t necessary. She was on state assistance, had no assets to manage. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think she’d wake up.”
“No, your Honor.”
“But she did.”
“Yes.”
Judge Morrison removes her glasses.
“Here’s my problem. We have two marriages. One legal but effectively abandoned when the spouse was believed to be permanently incapacitated. One entered in good faith but potentially invalid due to the first marriage’s continued legal existence.”
She looks at each of us.
“Somebody’s going to get hurt here. The question is who.”
Silence.
“Mrs. Ashford—Celeste—you’re petitioning to annul the second marriage?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“On what grounds?”
“Bigamy. My husband was still married to me when he married her.”
“Mr. Ashford, do you contest this?”
Dominic looks at me. Then at Celeste.
“I… no. Technically, it’s accurate.”
My heart sinks.
Rebecca leans forward.
“Your Honor, we’re filing a counter-petition for the marriage to be recognized as putative. Both parties entered in good faith—”
“I understand putative marriage, counselor. The question is whether good faith outweighs the legal reality of the first marriage.”
She flips through more documents.
“I’m not making a ruling today. This needs more review. But I want to make something clear to all three of you.”
We listen.
“This situation cannot continue indefinitely. Mr. Ashford, you cannot be married to two women. You need to make a choice. Do you want to remain married to your first wife or marry your second wife legally?”
“I—”
“Don’t answer now. Think about it. Because when we reconvene in thirty days, I’m going to ask you directly: Which woman is your wife?”
The weight of her words settles over the courtroom.
“Your Honor,” Celeste’s lawyer interrupts. “My client has rights. She’s the legal spouse—”
“I’m aware of her rights, counselor. I’m also aware that Mr. Ashford believed he was a widower and acted accordingly. The law has to balance those competing interests.”
She looks at Dominic.
“Mr. Ashford, I strongly suggest you decide what you want. And soon. Because dragging this out only increases the harm to everyone involved.”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“We’ll reconvene in thirty days. Both legal teams, file your briefs. And Mr. Ashford? Make a decision. One way or another.”
The gavel comes down.
We file out of the courtroom.
Celeste immediately corners Dominic.
“This is ridiculous. I’m your WIFE. That should be the end of it.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“Stop SAYING that! It IS simple! Choose me or choose her!”
“The judge said we have thirty days—”
“I don’t CARE what the judge said! I want an answer NOW!”
People are staring.
Dominic pulls Celeste aside.
I start to leave.
Rebecca stops me.
“That went better than expected.”
“How? The judge basically told him to choose and he can’t.”
“She also acknowledged your good faith claim. That’s huge. Most judges would immediately invalidate the second marriage. She’s actually considering putative status.”
“Which still doesn’t make me actually married to him.”
“No. But it gives you legal standing. Property rights. Protections.”
“I don’t want legal standing. I want my husband.”
“Then make him choose you.”
“How?”
“Give him an ultimatum. Thirty days is a long time to live in limbo. Force his hand.”
“And if he chooses her?”
“Then at least you know. And you can move on.”
Move on.
I’m so tired of those words.
Outside the courthouse, I find Dominic alone.
Celeste is with her lawyer, arguing about strategy.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
“Yeah. Of course.”
We walk to a nearby park. Sit on a bench.
“The judge asked which woman is your wife,” I say.
“I heard her.”
“So? Which one?”
“Rory—”
“Don’t ‘Rory’ me. Answer the question. When you stand in front of that judge in thirty days, which woman are you claiming as your wife?”
He’s quiet.
“You don’t know.”
“It’s not about not knowing—”
“Then what is it about? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re choosing not to choose. Keeping both of us in limbo so you don’t have to feel guilty.”
“That’s not fair—”
“None of this is fair! But we’re here. And the judge is right—this can’t go on forever. You have to decide.”
“I need time—”
“You have thirty days. That’s the time. Use it.”
“What if I can’t choose?”
“Then you’re choosing to lose both of us. Because I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not waiting for you to maybe, possibly, decide I’m worth fighting for.”
“You ARE worth fighting for—”
“Then FIGHT. Tell Celeste you love me. Tell the judge you want to marry me legally. Tell the WORLD you choose me. But stop straddling the fence.”
“And what about Celeste? She lost five years—”
“I KNOW. I know she lost five years. But I can’t pay the price for that forever. She deserves happiness. So do I. And right now, neither of us is happy because you won’t commit to either of us.”
Dominic puts his head in his hands.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Figure it out. You have thirty days.”
I stand up.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Priya’s. I’m not coming home until you make a decision.”
“Rory, please—”
“Thirty days, Dominic. Choose.”
I walk away.
Don’t look back.
Because if I look back, I’ll see him torn between two women he loves.
And I’ll realize I might not be enough.
END OF CHAPTER 10 / END OF ACT ONE
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