He Left Me at the Altar, Now He Begs

Three years into my career as a divorce lawyer, Clark Sanchez forced his way into my office. The closed-circuit monitor overhead was still running the news—Harbor City's richest man had just jilted his bride at the altar—and now he sat across from me on the other side of a black desk, head bowed low, the wedding band on his left ring finger catching the light.

Clark tapped the desk. His voice came out low and rough.

“I need a divorce agreement drawn up, and an asset transfer agreement.”