The cigarette hissed against my cashmere sweater, and for one frozen second, I couldn’t understand what was happening.

Three weeks later, the formal deposition of Ryan Sterling took place in a high-security conference room at the Denver County Jail.

The room was sterile, cold, and smelled faintly of floor wax and industrial bleach. A court reporter sat at the end of the table beside a digital court recording system.

ADA Rodriguez sat on my left; Nathan Vance sat on my right. I sat in the center, dressed in a soft cream-colored sweater that gently showed my seven-month bump.

Across the table sat Ryan.

He was wearing a dark orange jumpsuit, his hands restrained by handcuffs attached to a heavy chain around his waist. He had lost weight; his face was gaunt, his eyes hollowed out by sleepless nights in a cell.

Beside him sat Arthur Higgins, his defense attorney, looking thoroughly exhausted and defeated.

When Ryan saw me, his eyes filled with a desperate, pathetic hope.

"Claire..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "Claire, baby, you look... you look beautiful. How is she? How's the baby?"

I stared at him with complete detachment. "State your name for the record."

Ryan flinched as if I had struck him.

ADA Rodriguez cleared her throat, tapping the microphone on the table. "This is the videotaped deposition of defendant Ryan Sterling in the matter of State of Colorado v. Sterling et al. Defendant has been sworn in."

Rodriguez pulled a document from her file—the forged corporate resolution form.

"Mr. Sterling," Rodriguez began, sliding the paper across the table. "Is that your signature appearing on line two of this document?"

Ryan looked down at the paper, then at his attorney. Higgins offered no help, simply staring at his notepad.

"Yes," Ryan mumbled.

"And is the signature appearing on line one—purporting to be that of your wife, Claire Sterling—a genuine signature?"

Ryan swallowed hard, his neck flushing red. "I... I had her implied permission..."

"Mr. Sterling," Rodriguez interrupted sharply. "It is a simple yes or no question. Did Claire Sterling sign that document?"

"No," Ryan whispered. "I signed it."

"You forged her name?"

"I was trying to save my family's business!" Ryan burst out suddenly, straining against his waist chain, his voice echoing loudly off the concrete walls. "My dad was going under! He was going to lose his house! He was going to be ruined! Claire had millions sitting in stock options that she wasn't even using! I was her husband! What was mine was hers, and what was hers was mine!"

"Except you didn't put the money into your joint accounts, did you, Mr. Sterling?" Nathan Vance spoke up calmly, pulling out a second set of documents. "You transferred one point five million dollars to an offshore account in the Caymans shared with Sarah Lin. Was Sarah Lin helping you 'save your family business'?"

Ryan froze. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like a ghost.

He darted a quick, terrified glance at me, then looked down at his cuffed hands. "Sarah... Sarah was just a financial advisor..."

"Sarah Lin has already signed a full plea agreement with the State," ADA Rodriguez informed him coldly. "She provided us with eight months of text messages between the two of you. Messages where you explicitly detailed your plan to transfer five million dollars out of Claire's accounts, file for divorce once the baby was born, and move to Florida to open a real estate firm with Sarah."

Silence descended upon the conference room like a lead weight.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms against the table, looking directly into the eyes of the man I had once promised to love forever.

"You thought I was weak, Ryan," I said softly, my voice calm and crystal clear. "You thought because I was quiet, because I tried to make peace with your family, because I wanted my baby to have a grandfather, that I was stupid."

"Claire... please..." Ryan wept, hot tears running down his stubbled cheeks. "I made a mistake. I was under so much pressure from my dad. He threatened to disown me if I didn't get the money. He controlled me my whole life!"

"You're thirty-four years old, Ryan," I said. "You held my wrists while your father burned my skin. You didn't just break the law. You broke every sacred vow a human being can make."

"I love you!" Ryan cried out desperately. "I still love you! Please don't do this! Give me a second chance! For the baby!"

I stood up slowly, smoothing down my sweater over my stomach.

"I am giving our baby a chance," I said, looking down at him with complete pity. "A chance to grow up far away from you."

I turned to Nathan and ADA Rodriguez. "I've heard enough. We're done here."

As Nathan and I walked out of the interrogation room, Ryan’s hysterical screams echoed down the long concrete hallway behind us: