All language subtitles for Bull.2016.S05E04.The.Ex.Factor.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb

That's a very beautiful
engagement ring, sir.

Honestly, it's the most
beautiful one we have.

Shall I take it
in back and wrap it up?

What if she says no?

Sir...

no one is going
to say no to this ring.

Can you guarantee it?

On second thought, maybe
you should just let this go.

Why are you torturing
yourself like this?

Just let it go.

You have me.

You have Astrid, I have Astrid.

I have you.

That's really all
the Christmas present I need.

Hello?

What do you mean
they just started heading up

before you could stop them?

You're the doorman.

Marissa Valerian?

Maybe.

Who's asking at 7:15
on a Saturday morning?

I'm Agent Williams with the
Federal Bureau of Investigation.

This is my partner Agent Ford.

I was wondering
if we could trouble you

to put on some clothes
and accompany us downtown

to Federal Plaza.

Okay, this way, Mr. Valerian.

Let's go.

Greg? Greg!

Greg!

Do you know what's going on?

What are you doing here?

What am I doing here?

Call your office,
tell them you need a lawyer.

And don't say a word
until he gets here.

So on the day of the baptism,

you two, uh, the parents,
the husband and wife,

will stand here to the left
of the baptismal font.

Now, Mrs. Bull...

Uh, Colón.

Ms. Colón.

My-my apologies.

Ms. Colón, you'll be
holding the child,

so I need you to stand

closest to the font.

And you, Mr. Colón,

you'll be... Bull.

I'm sorry?

You had it right the first
time... Bull, Dr. Jason Bull.

This is Mr. Colón.

Once again, my apologies.

All right, then.

Uh, husband and wife here.

Uh, uh, forgive me, Father.

But I'm not her husband.

I'm her brother.

Then why on earth
are you standing there?

Well, I'm going to be
the godfather of the child.

And, um...

well, you pulled me over here.

Ms. Colón and I are
the baby's parents.

And you're not married?

No, not married.

To be fair, we
used to be married.

I mean, we just aren't now.

Maybe you could put in a
good word for me, Father?

We're not here to talk about us.

This isn't about you and me.

This is about our baby,
this is about purification.

This is about her introduction
to the Catholic Church.

I-I think I'm gonna go,
uh, stand over here.

Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry.

You should be.
You're ruining everything.

Okay, there you go.

It's off... all good.

It's not me!

Oh.

It's Marissa.Ah.

Mine was Marissa, too, actually.

Hey, do you mind
if I step away for a second

- and see what this is all
about? - Hello?

I'd be thrilled
if you stepped away.

Far away.

Actually, we've covered all
the really important details.

The, uh, essentials.

I am so sorry
to break this up, uh...

That was Marissa.

She's, uh, in some trouble.

I'm gonna head back home and...

rescue Astrid from
the babysitter.

Benny, thank you so much

for coming today
and tell Marissa

whatever it is,
if I can do anything...

So tell me about Marissa.

Sounds like she's
in a lot of trouble.

What kind of trouble? Alphabet trouble.

The FBI showed up at her
apartment this morning,

and took her into custody.

Are you serious? For what?

I... She claims she has no idea.

Told them she wouldn't talk
to anybody about anything

without her attorneys
in the room.

God.

I've barely been up three hours,

and this is already one of
the worst Saturdays of my life.

Well, no offense, my friend,

but you were asking for it.

I know you want to get married
and I think, deep down inside,

she does, too, but...

you know, you got to let her
come to it in her own time.

We have a child.

She knows that.

But it's not 1964.

A lot of people do it
without being married.

Not me.

Well, I hate to break
it to you, pal,

but you're doing it right now.

Mrs. Valerian,

do you know a Douglas Scott?

Uh, not well.

Uh, maybe I was introduced
to him once

over drinks.

I believe he bought into
a restaurant my husband owns,

uh, sometime last year.

I think my husband might have
even taken him on as a partner.

That's our understanding,
as well.

Actually, according
to our investigation,

this Douglas Scott fellow
owns a third

of your husband's restaurant.

Your husband retains a third,
and you, Mrs. Valerian,

control a third.

I actually don't
control anything.

I'm his wife.

He opened the restaurant
when we were first married,

so we put it in both our names.

But I can't even tell you
where they keep the toothpicks.

Forgive me, gentlemen, but
where are you going with this?

Mr. Douglas Scott,

the Valerians'
business partner...

Well, he's not my......is a
person known to the FBI

as a regional wholesaler
of high-end narcotics.

What?!

W-Wait a second, as I told you,

I barely know Douglas Scott.

And my husband would never do
business with drug dealers.

I mean,
why would he? The same reason anyone

does business with anyone...
There's a profit in it.

We believe that as soon as
Douglas Scott bought into

your restaurant, he began to run
cash from his drug operation

through the business...
His dirty money was mixed

with the restaurant's daily
receipts and deposited into

the restaurant's
commercial bank account.

Textbook money laundering.

Uh, but what does any
of this have to do with me?

Gentlemen, we are anxious to be
cooperative in any way we can,

but I think you know as well
as we do, that Marissa Morgan

is a co-owner of this
restaurant in name only.

She had no part in any of this,

and as she told you,
she barely remembers

even meeting Mr. Scott.

Whether she met
Mr. Scott or not,

both she and her husband
realized

a significant improvement
in their finances

as a resultof the
arrangement. Money laundering

is a federal crime.

So is bank fraud,
so is tax evasion.

You're easily looking
at ten to 15 years

in a federal penitentiary,
Mrs. Valerian.

Okay, well,
now that you've performed

your part of the play where
our client gets good

and scared, tell
us what you want,

and then we will tell you
if our client is

interested in helping you.

I mean, the short version is:

if your client were willing
to testify against Mr. Scott

and Mr. Valerian, we would
do everything in our power

to minimize, maybe even
dismiss the charges against her.

Marissa?

I-I'd be happy to testify.

The only problem is
I-I don't know anything

to testify to.

Well, if you don't, you don't.

Mrs. Valerian, you are under
arrest for money laundering

and conspiracy to commit
fraud and tax evasion.

Wait, as I told you,
I had nothing to do with any

of this! Mrs. Valerian,

you have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can
and will be used...

Oh, come on, handcuffs?
Is that really necessary?

Marissa, look at me, look at me.
You have the right to an attorney...

As soon as we get out of here,
Benny and I are gonna arrange

bail for you, okay?
Look at me, not at him.

We're gonna get you out on bail.

We're gonna get you out of here.

You're gonna be fine.

Okay, uh, so let's
talk trial strategy.

You know the federal
government's gonna want

to try you and Greg together.

Together?

No. No, no, no, no.

We need to be tried

separately... we have
to be tried separately.

I mean, we're in the middle
of getting a divorce.

Yes, but the fact is you're
technically still married.

And frankly,
no matter how unpleasant

the prospect might seem,

I would prefer
we represent you both.

You want to represent Greg?

I think we have to.

We just spent the morning
watching the prosecutor

try to flip you against him.

What makes you think
they're not gonna try

and flip Greg against you?

Marissa, if he
gets his own attorney,

they are gonna do and say
what is best for him.

Which may not mean
it is best for you.

But if TAC represents
both of you,

then we control the narrative.

We control the messaging.

And we'll do
everythingwe can to protect Greg.

But we'll also do everything
we can to protect you.

The question is,
can the two of you...

sit in a room
and work together on this?

Look, don't get me wrong,
I'd-I'd love your help.

Having those guys wake me up,
drag me downtown,

no one to call...

not my idea of fun.

I just

need to know it's okay
with... you.

I actually think it makes
sense for both of us.

And don't the two of you
want to know

if I did it?

No. We know you did it.

And I'm betting
there's a paper trail

a mile long
that proves you did it.

Withdrawals, deposits.

The question is, did you know
you were doing it?

I certainly had no idea.

What can I say?

Before I got into business
with Mr. Scott,

I was one bad weekend...

One big snow storm away
from closing the place.

I guess at the endof the day, I'm just not

a very good businessman.

The restaurant was
packed every night,

but I was still losing money.

And suddenly this guy sweeps in,

tells me how much
he loves the place.

And he says, "Let me take
over the business part

"of the business, give
you a big cash infusion.

Leave you to do
what you do so well."

I knew some of the other
restaurants

he was involved with.

They were all
on really solid footing.

I spoke with the owners;

they had nothing
but great things to say.

I mean, on a Tuesday,
I'm-I'm trying to figure out

how to pay my purveyors,

and a month later, I'm saying to Marissa:

maybe we can start
looking at bigger apartments.

And you didn't smell
anything fishy?

You know, I'm-I'm in
the restaurant business,

and at the end of the night,

we're left
with a lot of stinky garbage.

And over the years,
what I've learned is

that no matter how bad
the mess smells...

...if you're determined
not to smell it...

...you don't have to smell it.

Iz,
I'm trying everythingwith this bottle

short of adding vodka
andputting it in a martini glass.

I don't thinkthe baby's hungry.

She's been like that all day.

Just put her in the playpen.

I have to remember that.

What's that?

Ah, next time you're fussy
and don't do what I want,

I'm putting you in the playpen.

That's supposed
to make me smile?

That's supposed
to make me like you again?

Banter's all about volume.

Some lines are home runs,

some lines
are just gonna foul out.

You humiliated me today.

In front of the priest,
in front of my brother.

Well, I felt a little
humiliated, too.

I don't enjoy feeling like
aguest at my own child's baptism,

my own child's anything.

Well, you should take that up
with your therapist.

I don't have a therapist.

Well, now I know

what to get you for Christmas.

I don't have a wife either,
which, in case you're curious,

is what I really want
for Christmas.

I'll stop talking.

No television for you tonight.

What's the good word?

Well, based on the documents
the FBI sent over,

there is none.

I know you guys
don't want to hear this,

but it certainly appears
the FBI has a solid case.

They've got Greg
and Marissa's signatures

on every deposit,

every withdrawal,
all the certificates

of incorporation,
the transfers of ownership.

I mean, just based on all
the places she signed her name,

Marissa is in this
just as deeply as Greg.

Bull in his office?

Whatever it is, just slide it
under the door, please.

Tell me what to get your sister.

Oh, come on. You're a smart guy.

You'll think of something.

I did.

I bought her an engagement ring.

Oh, Bull.

Y-You're like the guy who buys
his girlfriend sexy lingerie

and doesn't understand
why she's not as excited

about it as he is.

Bull, that ring is not
for her, it's for you.

Mm. Thank you. To make you feel better.

I see, Dr. Colón. Thank you.

It's not that she doesn't
want to marry you;

she doesn't want
to marry anybody.

She did that. It didn't work.

She's a Catholic. She takes
that failure very seriously.

It wasn't a failure.

She had a miscarriage...
We had a miscarriage.

Yes, she did. Yes, you did.

But when you needed
each other the most,

you both turned around
and no one was there.

She's not evil, she's not mean.

She would never want
to do anything to hurt you.

She loves you.

But she's desperate not to
make the same mistake twice.

Particularly because
there's a child involved.

Now, you're a psychologist.

Certainly you can
understand that.

I'm just gonna
get her some lingerie.

Now you're talking.

Ms. Tyler,

how long have you
been the hostess

at The Briarcrest Room?

Almost two years.

So you were there
when the ownership expanded

to include Douglas Scott?

Yes.

And did you notice any changes

once he joined
the ownership team?

Of course.

I mean, Mr. Valerian
still ran the restaurant.

It was just anything
involving money.

Uh, cashing out, the tip pool.

That was all Mr. Scott.

Also, before Mr. Scott,
we'd take turns

making the bank run
when we closed each night.

The canvas pouch filled
with the night's receipts

that would go into the bank's
night deposit box?

But after Mr. Scott's arrival,
he took care of that.

No one touched
those receipts but him.

Or someone who worked for him.

I see.

And were you aware
that Mr. Scott was not only

in the restaurant business
but also the narcotics business?

You mean drugs?

Exactly.

No. I didn't know he sold drugs.

But I sure knew he liked them.

How do you mean?

Well, if you were a pretty girl
and you worked

at the restaurant,
at some point Mr. Scott...

Or one of the guys
who worked for Mr. Scott...

Was going to come on to you.

Ask you if you wanted
to go out after.

Ask you if you wanted
to go home with them after.

And drugs were always
a part of that conversation.

But selling them?
No, I had no idea.

But do you think, perhaps,
Mr. Valerian

might have had an idea?

Objection.
Calls for speculation.

Objection sustained.
Do you want to rephrase?

Actually,
I have no further questions

for this witness at this time.

Ooh. Good morning, Ms. Tyler.

Have you ever actually seen
Mr. Valerian do drugs?

Perhaps with Mr. Scott
or anyone from his team?

No. In fact,
I'm pretty sure Mr. Valerian

was not someone
who approved of drugs.

And what makes you say that?

Well, there was
another waitress. Stacy?

She'd been there
from the beginning.

She was the one
who trained the rest of us.

But when Mr. Scott arrived,

she started getting
involved with one of his guys.

And for the first time ever,
she started missing work.

Sometimes she'd show up
and it was like

she hadn't gotten any sleep.

And ultimately, Mr. Valerian
had to fire her.

And I know
that really upset him.

And the day after
Stacy was fired,

Mr. Valerian
called an all-staff meeting.

Said how heartbroken he was,
how angry he was,

how much he adored Stacy,

but that drugs had no place
in any business he ran.

And if he became aware of anyone

using drugs, selling drugs,

having anything
to do with drugs,

they would be
instantly terminated.

And was Mr. Scott or any
of his people in this meeting?

They were all standing
behind Mr. Valerian.

A couple of them
rolling their eyes,

trying not to smile.

I'm sure Mr. Valerian
had no idea.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I have no further questions
for this witness, Your Honor.

The witness is excused.

Let's take a 15-minute recess.

Hello? Is anybody here?

I remember you.

You didn't, by any chance
bring any food, did you?

Or...

a cold martini?

I knew I forgot something.

You're home late.

Well, I had to return a
Christmas gift I got for you.

Mm.Something I know
deep down inside

you really want,

but that you're just not
ready to accept from me yet.

Oh, my goodness. Mm-hmm.

I wonder what that could be.

A table saw.

You so get me.

Mm-hmm.

So wait, I'm not
getting anything now?

Oh, I think it's gonna be a
mostly socks and underwear

kind of Christmas for you.

Socks?

Support hose.

Nothing but the best.

And underwear?

Flannel.

Made from real flan.

Mmm.

So...

what is our mini, artificial
Christmas tree doing in here?

Because I thought we
decided it was gonna live

in the living room where all
the artificial trees live?

Yeah, that was the plan,

but then, once I set it up,

Astrid just refused to be
anywhere it wasn't.

So I just picked it up
and put it in here

and she fell asleep right away.Huh.

No problem.

So, how goes the trial?

Oh, well, from a
legal standpoint,

not a huge breakthrough today,

but just before court adjourned,

the estranged wife squeezed
her husband's hand.

And then, they actually turned
and looked at each other

in the eye for the first time
since the trial began.

It was the closest
thing I've seen

to a Christmas
miracle all season.

Hmm.

Mr. Walker,

can you tell the court
who you work for?

I'm an employee

of the Federal Bureau
of Investigation.

And what is it you do for them?

I'm what's called
a forensic accountant.

And what does that entail?

I'm kind of a money detective.

I examine bank records,

tax records, all kinds
of financial records

and see what kind
of story they tell.

Are there any irregularities?

Has some sort of criminal
malfeasance taken place?

And did you have occasion
to examine

The Briarcrest Room's
financial records?

I did.

And did they tell you a story?

They certainly seemed to.

In the ten months' worth
of records we examined,

we concluded that at least
$2,000 a day in funds

derived from sources that were
clearly not the restaurant

were being deposited in the
restaurant's account as though

part of the day's receipts.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

So, Mr. Walker.

Let me ask you something.

How many years did you have
to go to school

to become, uh,
what do you call yourself?

A forensic accountant?

Four years of undergrad work,

and then a two-year MBA program.

That's impressive.

And how long did you say
you studied

the financial records
of the restaurant?

Well, my office and I
went through them

with a fine-tooth comb
for over 15 weeks.

So almost four months.

Wow.

A-And not just you
but your entire team,

uh, went through these documents
to piece together

Douglas Scott's money
laundering scheme. Ha.

And yet, you believe
my clients...

Two people who have had
exactly zero time

studying forensic accounting...

Knew everything that
was going on around them?

Well, in May,

before Douglas Scott
bought into the business,

the restaurant turned 605 tables

for a gross monthly loss
of $7,000.

In June, one month after
Douglas Scott became co-owner,

the restaurant turned
545 tables.

Now, that's 60 tables less,

yet somehow they suddenly had
a $30,000 profit.

But you're not
answering my question.

I'm trying to.

This trend of fewer tables

yet greater profits continued
for the next ten months.

How is that possible?
The restaurant didn't

raise their prices.

You don't need to be a FBI agent

nor a trained CPA
to do the math.

It just doesn't add up.

Tough day, but that's
to be expected.

Prosecution's rested.

Tomorrow we present our case.

You ready to take the stand?

Ready as I'll ever be.

Hey, we're, uh, heading uptown.

Anybody need a ride?

Actually, I feel like walking.

No, I'm, uh, heading
the other way.

But thanks.

See you in the morning.

How could you not have known?

How could you not have known?

Oh, come on, Greg.

You know I never saw
a penny of that money.

It went into the joint
bank account.

You paid the bills,
you wrote all the checks.

Yeah, "joint."

That means the two of us.

You could have looked
at the statements.

They'd sit on the kitchen table
for the entire month.

It's your restaurant.

I don't know how many tables
you're turning.

I don't know if you're making
a profit or not.

You don't tell me those things.

You don't ask.

And suddenly,
everything is better.

You're making money,
and it doesn't occur to you

to find out why? How?

Hell no.

When things are good, no,
I don't need to know why.

I just need for them
to not stop.

But you wouldn't
understand that.

No, I don't understand
that at all.

I trusted you.

It's like the other day.

You said you
smelled the garbage,

but you didn't do
anything about it.

Why would I?

We were winning.

You don't check the weather
when the sun's out.

I do.

Especially if I've made plans
with someone

that I supposedly care about.

So...

you made her something?

For Christmas?

Why do you sound so surprised?

I'm a clever, creative person.

Uh, well,
you're a 50-year-old man.

She's a 40-year-old woman.

What did you make her?

A birdhouse made out of
Popsicle sticks?

We're here.

Oh, my God. I'm not sure
I'm ready for this.

See you all inside.

Now, before you go in there

and take the stand this morning,

I need to talk to you
about a couple of things.

As my client,

I need to remind you
to tell the truth.

Of course. No.

It's more complicated than that.

The only certainty
in all this is

that they are gonna
ask you questions

that will pit you against Greg.

Questions that will make you
at least consider

fudging the truth,

shading the truth
to protect yourself,

to protect Greg.

It's a trap.

Bull, I am not a liar.

I am certainly not gonna lie
under oath.

And now is the part where
I talk to you like a friend.

Yes, they are trying
you and Greg together.

But the jury will be instructed
to decide your cases separately,

which means that Greg
can be found guilty

and you can be found innocent.

Not that I'm wishing that
on Greg.

God, no. Me, either. But I believe

in your innocence.

And we need that jury
to believe in it, too.

And the way we get them
to believe in your innocence

is by believing you,

which means that you
are gonna have to share...

everything.

You're gonna have to
share it all,

even the embarrassing parts.

There are no embarrassing parts.

Oh, yes, there are.

You're a real smart person,
Marissa Morgan.

And that's not something you can
hide or cover up with makeup.

Smart just oozes out of you.

But you loved this man.

You trusted this man.

And that notwithstanding,
either he's far more ignorant

than he lets on or,
more than likely,

he was able to persuade himself

that he didn't need
to confide in you

when he sensed something
illegal was going on.

Even though he was playing
with your money,

with your reputation.

With your future.

I'm sorry. It really is
as simple as that.

But the jury will never know
unless you tell them.

I guess we should get in there.

So...

you signed this?

Apparently, I did.

But you didn't read it?

No, not that I recall.

And you signed this?

Looks like I did.

Um, yes, that's my signature.

How about this
transfer of ownership?

Signing away a third of
your business to Douglas Scott.

You remember signing this?

Honestly, no.

I'd come out to the kitchen
table in the morning,

there'd be things to sign.

Little yellow Post-its
all over them.

My husband ran a restaurant.

He slept from 3:00
in the morning

until 11:00 in the morning.

I slept from 10:00 at night
until 6:00 the next day.

There was no time to discuss
what I was signing.

By the time he was awake,

I'd already been at work
for three hours.

It's just the way we did it.

Hmm. One last question.

You know,
the prosecution contends

that you profited handsomely

from this arrangement
with Mr. Scott.

Is that true?

It may be.

I really have no way of knowing.

All the money went
into a joint account

that my husband
and I had together.

Frankly, I almost never
looked at it.

Never even checked the balance.

When we'd talk,

he'd say the restaurant
was doing well.

We were doing well.
That's all he said,

and that's all I needed to hear.

Bills would come in.

None of them were overdue.
He wrote the checks.

I-I really didn't give it
much thought.

Thank you, Mrs. Valerian.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

Mrs. Valerian,

you worked as a
senior-level analyst

for Homeland Security for
almost nine years, didn't you?

I did.

That's one of those jobs
where I have to believe

that the devil is
in the details.

Wouldn't you agree?

I would.

Tons of reading.
Scrutinizing documents.

Tens of hours of research.

And yet you're testifying

that you signed
countless contracts,

invoices, checks,
transfers of ownership

without ever once
actually looking at them?

Yes.

And am I also to believe

that your husband tells you

he's about to bring in
a new partner

to help run his business,
and you...

With all the resources of
the Trial Analysis Corporation

for whom you work, with all
of your past friendships

and relationships
at Homeland Security...

Don't even bother to run
a background check on this man?

I did not.

For a woman
with your background,

that seems rather unlikely.

I don't know what to say.

It-it was my husband's
restaurant.

It was my husband's thing.

I trusted my husband.

Guess I'm a fool.

We were married.
I... We are married.

Married to each other
for the second time,

as a matter of fact.

What is love if not surrender?

And what is surrender
if not the certainty of trust?

The absolute belief
that this other person

always has your back,

and you always have theirs?

You're not answering
my question.

I'm trying.

When we got married
for the second time,

I felt I needed to show him
that this time was forever.

So I signed over half
of my condominium...

By far my most
valuable possession...

To him.

My idea.

I wanted Greg to know
that what was mine, was his.

And then,
without me saying a word,

he signed over half
his ownership

in his new restaurant...
His baby... to me.

Again...

the question is,
why wouldn't you run

a background check on a man
you were about to go

into business with?

I trusted my husband.

I trusted his judgment.

I knew he trusted mine.

I just wanted
to return the favor.

When it came to my condominium,

if there was
an unexpected assessment...

The-the building roof
started to leak last year.

That was $22,000
that we hadn't planned on.

I would just write out
a check and put it

on the kitchen table
for him to sign.

And he would just sign it.

No conversation.
Just blind trust.

I wanted to redo
the kitchen, and I did.

Not a peep.

Except to say
how much he loved it.

And, yes, could we get
the workers to show up

a little later
so he could sleep.

That's all well and good,
Mrs. Valerian.

But you and your husband
ran a business

that consistently lost money.

And then one day it didn't.

And it's your testimony
that you never felt compelled

to ask about it?

And he never offered
an explanation?

Actually, I did finally ask him.

Just the other day,
right after court.

You asked about how
the business was suddenly

making money when it was
seating fewer customers?

I did.

And what did he say?

He said he didn't know.

He said he didn't care.

He said you don't ask about
the weather when the sun is out.

You do if it's out
in the middle of the night.

I have no further questions,
Your Honor.

The witness is excused.

Let's take a 15-minute break.

I did the best I could.

You hung me out to dry, Marissa.

No, you hung me out to dry.

That's why we're here.
Or have you forgotten?

Um, he knows he's the next
witness, doesn't he?

You better ask the judge if
she'll adjourn for the day.

I have a feeling Greg
doesn't plan on coming back.

Hello?

Dr. Bull. It's Greg Valerian.

I just wanted to let you know,

after what happened today
in court,

I'm exploring my options.

I'm sorry, Greg,
can you repeat that?

I'm not sure
I know what you mean.

I mean I no longer think
it makes sense

for me to be represented
by your firm.

By the firm that employs
the woman

I'm in the midst
of getting a divorce from.

I just didn't want you
to be blindsided in the morning.

Okay, Greg, can we talk
about this for a second?

I think you're making a mistake.

That's okay.

Won't be the first.

Good night, Dr. Bull.

Now, my suspicion is,
when we get inside,

Greg will make a plea
for new representation,

maybe even a whole new trial.

That's crazy.

We're two-thirds of the way
through the proceedings.

Well, I'm sure that'll be the
judge's point of view as well.

He wants to stretch this out,

just like he's done
with our divorce.

Tell me one more time
how smart I am?

How'd I manage to do it?

Pick such a selfish person
to spend my life with?

Twice!

How could I have been so wrong?

I thought he actually
had my back.

I thought he actually
cared about me.

We should get inside.

Before we begin
today's testimony

or invite the jury in,
I understand that the A.U.S.A.

would like to address the bench.

Your Honor,
I need to inform the court

that one of the defendants,
Greg Valerian,

reached out to me
early this morning

to inform me that he has
served verbal notice

that he wishes
to no longer be represented

by either
the Trial Analysis Corporation

or its attorney,
Mr. Benjamin Colón,

and moving forward,
chooses to represent himself.

I don't see Mr. Valerian here,

but if you would please
let him know that his request

is something I'm going to need
to take under advisement,

and given that this trial
is almost over...

There's more, Your Honor.

Subject to your approval,
of course,

Mr. Valerian has offered
to change his plea to guilty

and testify
against Douglas Scott

in various criminal matters
that remain pending against him.

In return,
he has agreed to serve

no more than 36 months
in prison,

and we have agreed to drop
all charges against his wife,

Marissa Valerian,

who we have come to believe
had little or no involvement

in any of this.

See that? Maybe you weren't
so wrong about him after all.

You guys go ahead.
I'm fine here.

Thank you.

No. Thank you.

I don't know
what I was thinking, Marissa.

I'm sorry.

You were thinking
the sun was out.

So when do you have to
turn yourself in?

Not until the middle of January.

And I promise, I'll get
the whole divorce thing done

before that.

I wasn't thinking about that.

I don't think there's any rush
on that at this point.

Not on my end, anyway.

No, I want to get it done.

I owe you that.

So w-what are you doing
for Christmas?

Excuse me?

Christmas. Three days from now.

You want to come over?

I mean, the place
is still half yours.

Yeah.

Yeah, I'd like that.

You're cooking.

Thank you again.

Thank you again.

You think she knows?

Knows she's been baptized?

Somewhere deep in there,

she knows something
special happened.

Hopefully the first
of many special things.

Two days until her
first Christmas.

Mm-hmm.

Want to open something?

No. It's not Christmas.

Come on.

You want me to open something?

Just one thing.
One special thing.

This is my gift?

Mm-hmm.

You write this?

Yes, I did.

"I'm always here.

"Whether you choose
to keep me or not,

"I will always be here
when you need me.

"When you want me.

"So feel free to push me away.

"Feel free to say no.

"I will leave, but never go far.

I'm yours forever.
Merry Christmas."

You mean this?

Thank you.

I ordered your socks
and underwear,

but they haven't
gotten here yet.

Well, now I feel like
I have to give you something.

Oh, don't feel any pressure.

I mean, if it's still on its way

to the dealership from Germany,
I completely understand.

You should not have gone
all out like this.

Just shut up and open it.

Okay.

A ring...

A ring in a ring box.

So...

...will you marry me?

I don't get a knee?
I don't get a nice dinner?

Just say yes
and lay one on me, big boy.

Well, when you put it
like that...

Yes.

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