Chapter 14 - The property numbers
Labor had not started strongly yet.
Hospital admitted because I was thirty-eight weeks and two days with ruptured membranes.
Before contractions intensified, Joanna called for one practical reason.
Ryan had filed an emergency motion that morning?
No.
Good.
Instead neutral business valuation had arrived.
I almost laughed.
“I’m in labor.”
“I know. I’m not asking you to negotiate.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because Ryan’s counsel has it too, and I don’t want surprise messages.”
Summit Ridge value:
Neutral appraiser estimated company equity around $760,000 total.
Ryan’s 60% interest:
Approximately $456,000 before consideration of any separate-property tracing or marital classification.
Because business started during marriage, much of value likely marital.
No guarantee I receive half in cash.
Could offset.
Then home equity.
Around $471,000.
Retirement combined:
About $382,000.
Joint brokerage after tax reserve:
$114,000.
Cash:
$46,000.
Debts.
Mortgage.
Vehicles.
Business line belongs company but personal guaranty risk considered in valuation.
Ryan’s parents’ $110,000:
Evidence strongly supported gift, not enforceable marital debt.
The draft agreement Ryan wanted me to sign would have substantially undervalued my property position.
How substantially?
His $180,000 house payment plus no business claim could have left several hundred thousand dollars of value on his side, depending final classification.
No wonder temporary custody felt useful to him.
Then Joanna said:
“Do not think about this now.”
“You just told me.”
“I told you because if Ryan sends anything, forward it.”
My phone buzzed ten minutes later.
Ryan.
I know today isn’t the day for money. I’m not going to ask you to sign anything.
I stared.
Did his lawyer tell him?
Probably.
Then:
Please tell me when he’s born.
I forwarded.
No response.
Then labor strengthened.
Claire held my hand.
At one point I screamed:
“I can’t do this.”
The sentence that had once become evidence.
Claire looked directly at me.
“Yes, you can.”
Then I laughed between contractions.
“What?”
“Ryan would screenshot that.”
Claire started crying.
“Don’t.”
“Bad joke.”
“Terrible.”
Good.
Normal.
Then medical.
No fetal distress.
No emergency surgery.
No abruption.
No complication attributable to the slap weeks earlier.
My pregnancy had continued normally.
That mattered.
The assault did not need to cause fetal injury to matter.
At 1:08 the next morning, our son was born.
Seven pounds, four ounces.
Healthy.
I cried so hard I could barely see him.
Claire cut the cord after I said yes.
His name:
Noah James Foster-Warren? We need surname maybe Ryan and Emily both Foster? We haven't assigned. Let's define Emily Foster married Ryan Warren? We used Claire Foster, so Emily maiden Foster, likely married Warren but not named. Let's keep Noah Warren legally for now. Could mention later.
Noah.
Then the question everyone had prepared for.
Ryan.
I told the nurse:
“Notify through the approved process.”
My lawyer informed his.
Hospital arranged a supervised newborn visit later that morning in nursery family room with security nearby.
Not because Ryan was presumed dangerous to Noah.
Because protection order prohibited direct contact with me.
I did not attend.
Claire stayed with me.
Forty-five minutes later the nurse returned.
“How was it?”
“He held him. Fed him a little. Cried.”
I looked at Noah.
Did that hurt?
Yes.
Was it right?
Also yes.
Ryan was his father.
The court had not taken that away.
Then at 11:23 a.m., Joanna called.
May you like
“Ryan filed a motion.”
Of course.
