One evening inside our living room the argument expl0ded into something vi0lent. Darlene screamed that I was selfish and ungrateful, and before I understood what was happening she grabbed a baseball bat that had been leaning against the wall. The swing came fast and b.rutal. Pain b/urst across my cheek and I c0llapsed onto the hardwood floor while Caleb stood nearby frozen in silence.
That moment ended my marriage even before the legal papers existed.
The next morning I returned to the house with a police officer, a locksmith, a process server, and my attorney Andrea Brooks. I wore sunglasses to hide the swelling across my face and walked up the driveway feeling strangely calm.
Caleb opened the door and stared in confusion before his eyes noticed the officer and the documents in the process server’s hands.
“Taylor,” he said slowly, “what is all this supposed to mean?”
Andrea stepped forward with the confidence of someone who had prepared for weeks. “Mr. Mitchell,” she said, “you are being served with a divorce petition, a request for a temporary protective order, and a motion granting my client exclusive use of the marital home.”