EX-WIFE, IT WAS YOUR LOSS NOT MINE

CHAPTER 9.

The morning of the trial felt heavier than any day Jayden had lived through. The sun had risen as it always did, yet he barely noticed it through the narrow window of his cell. When the guards came to lead him out, the chains around his wrists clinked softly, each sound pressing against his chest as though reminding him of what he had become.

He was no longer a man, just a prisoner being marched toward judgment.

The courtroom was already filled when he entered. People whispered as he passed, some staring openly, others looking away as if he were a creature they feared to look at for too long.

He sat down beside his lawyer, Mr. Collins, whose tired eyes and careless posture told him once again that this man had no intention of fighting for him. Jayden swallowed hard, feeling the bitter taste of hopelessness coat his mouth.

Emily sat across the room, her presence cutting into him more than the chains. She wore a simple dress, her hair arranged perfectly, her lips curved in a smile that had no warmth.

When her eyes met his, there was no sign of regret, only victory. She wanted him ruined, and she wanted him to watch her do it.

“Mr. Jayden Smith,” the judge began, his voice deep and slow, “you stand accused of murder, conspiracy, and perjury. The testimonies and evidence have been weighed against you. Today we will hear final statements before judgment.”

He clenched his hands, trying to breathe, but the words wrapped around his neck like a rope.

Emily was the first called to the stand. Jayden’s heart pounded painfully as she opened her mouth, because he knew what would follow would destroy him further.

“I lived with Jayden as his wife,” she said, her voice smooth, almost delicate, “and I thought I knew him. But he betrayed me. He had an affair, he left me broken, and when the woman threatened to expose him, he killed her. I saw the messages, and I knew the truth. He is not the man people believe he is.”

Her words pierced him, each one heavier than the last. Jayden shook his head, leaning toward his lawyer.

“She’s lying. Tell them she’s lying,” Jayden whispered urgently.

Mr. Collins adjusted his glasses, muttered under his breath, and did nothing. He remained silent as though his role was only to sit there and observe.

One by one, hotel staff took the stand. A receptionist, a cleaner, even a security guard. Each claimed they saw Jayden enter the hotel with the victim, each insisted he had checked in under his name. Their voices blended into a blur of betrayal, and Jayden’s chest burned with helplessness.

When his turn came, Jayden rose to speak. His voice trembled at first but then grew stronger.

“I did not do this,” he said, his eyes searching the room, “I never had an affair. I never killed anyone.

They’ve made all of this up, and you’re believing them because they have money and power. But I am telling you, I am innocent.”

The judge raised a hand to silence him. “Mr. Smith, the evidence speaks louder than words.”

Jayden sat down again, his head heavy. He could feel his hope vanishing, leaving behind only despair. It was clear to him that this trial was a performance, and the script had already been written.

The judge leaned forward, preparing to deliver the verdict. His mouth opened, and then the door at the back of the courtroom creaked. A man in a dark suit entered, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

He walked in with calm authority, a leather briefcase in his hand. His steps were unhurried but certain. He stopped in the center of the courtroom.

“Your Honor,” the man said firmly, “my name is Mr. Harris. I am here to represent the defendant, Jayden Smith.”

“I have evidence that proves his innocence.”

The judge frowned, irritation flashing across his face. “This case is concluded. The defendant already has counsel. You are interrupting official proceedings.”

“With all due respect, Your Honor,” Mr. Harris replied, his voice steady. “A life is at stake here. I ask that you let the evidence speak.”

The courtroom erupted into murmurs. Emily’s smile faltered, and even the jury shifted in their seats. The judge who looked unsettled, hesitated before agreeing.

“You may proceed, Mr. Harris,” he said reluctantly.

Mr. Harris placed his briefcase on the table and pulled out a flash drive. “This is the unedited CCTV footage from the hotel on the night in question,” he said, handing it to the clerk.

The footage played on the screen. Gasps filled the room as it showed Jayden slumped unconscious on a lounge sofa, then two men dragging him into a hotel room.

Minutes later, the victim entered alone before another man whose face was concealed entered too, and later came out alone. There was no image of Jayden walking in with her, no sign of a relationship.

Jayden’s heart pounded. He leaned forward, unable to look away from the proof of his innocence. For the first time since his arrest, he felt seen.

Mr. Harris was not finished. He opened a folder, revealing documents. “The alleged victim was never pregnant,” he said clearly. “Medical records show she was an actress, paid under pretenses. Someone staged this to frame Jayden Smith.”

The words struck like thunder. Emily’s face was drained of color. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her fingers clenching into fists.

Before the judge could respond, the courtroom doors opened again. The hotel manager walked in, escorted by two officers. His face was pale, sweat rolling down his forehead.

“I have to confess,” he said, his voice shaking. “I was bribed. I destroyed Jayden’s phone. I planted his fingerprints on the knife. I was ordered to lie, and I agreed because of the money. I cannot carry it anymore. I am ready to face the consequences.”

The courtroom exploded in noise. The judge tried to quieten everyone but the damage was done. The false evidence was exposed, the lies unraveling in front of everyone’s eyes.

Emily stood abruptly in shame seeing the ongoing commotion and the truth exposed, her chair scraping across the floor. Her composure cracked, and she stormed out, her heels echoing down the hall.

The judge had no choice. He removed his glasses, sighed, and looked at Jayden. “Given the new evidence and the confession, the court finds Jayden Smith not guilty of all charges. He is hereby released.”

Jayden’s handcuffs were removed. He rubbed his raw wrists, the cool air on his skin a sensation he’d forgotten. The relief was overwhelming, yet it felt strange, unreal, as though freedom itself was foreign after so much despair.

Mr. Harris touched his arm gently. “You’re coming with me. There’s someone who wants to see you.”

Outside the courtroom, a dignified-looking older man stood waiting.

“My name is Daniel,” the man said, extending his hand. “I am Mr. Wellington, your father’s assistant. He sent me to bring you home.”

Jayden froze. The words barely made sense. He stared at the man, speechless, his heart racing with confusion and disbelief. “Home.”

The word felt like something from another life, something he had long forgotten.