CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CASSIE
Something’s wrong.
I knew from the moment Manon checked her email almost two weeks ago. Something was instantly wrong. She tried to brush it off like nothing was affecting her, but I could tell. That’s why I made sure to ask her again. I didn’t need her to answer me; it was her business at the end of the day. But I still wanted her to at least want to tell me.
But she didn’t, not a peep fell from her lips. Only the cheesiest, fakest smile she’d ever given me. Worse than the first time we met, and she acted like my knocking not one, but two cups of coffee into her was nothing. I knew her fake smile like the back of my hand.
But why was she doing it to me ?
Was it something from work? I knew being a lawyer came with confidentiality over clients’ cases, so I never expected her to tell me everything. But whatever it was looked like it was eating away at her
I wanted to be in her brain. I needed to understand what was making her face scrunch up in thought or chew on her lips. She wasn’t sleeping as much either. Ever since I started sleeping in her bed, which was coincidentally that same night. She’s been pacing. I was fully convinced it had to be me.
Maybe it was my crazy energy, or whatever bad karma I always brought around, but it kept Manon up like demons in the night. But whenever I suggested to her that I thought I was affecting her sleep, she swore it would be worse if I wasn’t here. Yet, I was starting to think that was a lie.
Something had to be a lie. She could hardly look me in the eye. We didn’t go back to coasting around each other and barely talking, thank God. But it still hasn’t felt right. Like every time we cuddled to watch a movie, it felt like something was sitting in between us, preventing us from getting any closer.
Physically, mentally, and romantically, I was being pussy-blocked by whatever was bothering her.
She still woke me up with kisses and talked to me until the sun went down but it was like she was physically preventing us from, going any further. Which has only worsened my fears and triggered my abandonment issues.
Manon didn’t owe me anything. Technically we were still getting to know each other; but for fuck’s sake, the woman called my 6-month-old cat her son .
I couldn't even argue with her. Not only did it warm my heart and send a thousand butterflies fluttering inside me, but it also showed how much she truly was like his second parent. From knowing his feeding and sleeping times as if they were on her calendar, to the way she simply admired him—it was starting to feel like she knew things about him that even I didn’t.
I could hardly believe she hadn’t had a pet before. I think Leo felt the same way too. I noticed his energy shift into an even more relaxed and free cat than he was before. Which made me proud, but also simultaneously upset with myself that I couldn't give him better before.
But Manon had it all. She was the dream package for anyone. There was a reason for her to be picky. I wanted her to have the best of the best. It was what she deserved, she worked too hard in life for her to settle for anything less, and it was clear where I landed on that list.
She comforted me in a way that made me feel like my feelings were always being validated and put first. Like she wanted to make sure I knew I wasn’t ever at fault.
Even now, when she’s acting weird, she still tries to reassure me that everything is okay.
But I never bought it. It always felt forced or like she was trying to convince herself more than me. I could be reading too far into it, but there were just too many small things for me to ignore anymore.
Her eyes twitched when I would ask her about her day at work, but she would blame it on exhaustion or caffeine and sometimes the mixture of both. Then she started biting her lip, and not in a sensual or even contemplating way. It looked like it was an anxiety-driven tick that she was slowly starting to obtain. The mental list I was creating was making me uneasy.
I was starting to believe that even though she never faltered when it came to being there for me, she was starting to let me down softly. Like she didn’t want the broke, crazy cat lady that she had a semi-one-night stand with to know that she was over it.
She didn’t desire the same things that I did, and we really were falling in too deep.
Which sucked, because that had meant I read her wrong. Or she was playing me all along.
A good lay and you get paid?
Sounds like a good deal to me.
Maybe she was just moving me in here to keep me from doing something drastic, wanting to make sure she had all eyes on the client dragging her through hell.
As much as I wished my mind could settle on the idea of her being awful or evil—because that would’ve been the easier, less confusing explanation—I knew deep down that all my endless thoughts and imagined scenarios were wrong.
I knew that, even through her ups and downs she was never going to be any of the things that my mind wanted her to be. It made it harder for me to understand what was going on with her. But I couldn’t lie to myself and tell my mind that she was just a shitty person that I could throw away and move on from.
That wasn’t possible here, not even if I tried. Manon had drained me of everything I had, making me start over raw and vulnerable. But then she filled me up emotionally… and physically.
There was no throwing her out of my mind when this woman was embedded into my veins. It was scary how much my world was starting to wrap around hers. But I didn't want it any other way. I liked following Manon’s schedule; we worked together like a couple that had been married for years. So much that it felt like we fell into heteronormative roles that with anyone else, I would’ve gagged at the thought of.
Yet, the idea of playing housewife to a woman who had an actual sense of intelligence was earth-shattering. I was spending my days cooking for her in the mornings and sleeping with her at night. But she never expected anything from me. She never told me what I needed or had to do. This was just how we fell into place.
And it worked. It worked better than most couples that had been married for twenty plus years. But maybe that’s what was scaring her, how well we did work.
Was the fear of us moving too fast, driving us further apart?
I could see how that might cause her to retreat inward, but she seemed more ahead in life than anyone else I knew in our age group. Not that this automatically meant she desired that lifestyle, but I certainly didn’t think it would scare her away from it.
I mean, the woman was great with kids (my cat), amazing in bed, and financially stable. She was the ideal partner that I could only create in my dreams.
So, when I saw it, it took me aback.
I was trying not to be nosey, but it was right there on display.
I had to physically drop my eyes and hold myself when I caught sight of Manon’s fully unlocked and opened laptop.
It was right there.
Propped up on the corner of her jade island, where she always left it when she was in a hurry. The first time I noticed her leave it at home, I panicked. Thinking she forgot the one thing she absolutely needed to work. But I knew we were in completely different worlds when I realized she had an at home laptop, a travel laptop and iPad, plus an office computer with dual monitors.
It felt like the quickest way to call me broke.
But it also told me she wouldn’t be back any time soon for this one that was left open.
My head whipped around the empty kitchen that she just run out of about 20 minutes ago. I should’ve taken that as my first sign to not look. If I had to look around to make sure she wasn’t still here, then I probably shouldn’t be doing it.
But it was getting to a point, I knew that Manon wasn’t going to tell me herself and I needed to know. I needed to know what was causing the small riff that moved beneath the surface level. Because on the outside, everything seemed fine, the water sparkled as the sun shined down on us. But there was something dark and murky floating in the water below us.
And even though I knew this was crossing the line, I needed answers.
As my last resort at stopping myself, I grabbed my phone to call the one and only person that I could think of.
Within seconds of ringing, he answered.
“Well, well, well. Speak of the dead…” Oliver’s teasing voice trailed in. Even though he was acting mad, I could still hear the low chuckle in his voice—and fuck, did I need that. Even through my rollercoaster of emotions, he still managed to make me smile. It was small but effective—and exactly what I needed before my mind just dumped everything on him all at once.
I took a deep breath, sighing heavily. “Oli, we kissed.” My voice was barely above a whisper but of course, he still heard me.
“That’s it? You’ve been there for weeks now; I figured that much would happen if you moved in with the girl. But if I’m honest, I thought you guys would be banging each oth—”
“O-Okay, Oliver.” I cut him off mid-sentence
“Whaaat? I thought we both knew this. Two hot, and clearly gay women don’t just move in together on a whim. Especially not when one is a lawyer and the other is an alleged criminal.”
“Hey!” I shout back.
“Okay, sorry! But I’m just saying, I expected this call to come sooner. Isn’t that why you’re calling me randomly this early in the morning? Because I know it wasn’t just to check in on me.”
I sputtered, Oliver knew me too well. It was actually terrifying. It was quiet for a few moments, until I could hear Oliver laughing under his breath. He knew he was right.
“Well...” I said, not needing to add anything more.
“Oh. My. God. I KNEW IT!” Oliver exclaimed, causing me to pull my phone away from my ear as the pitch to his voice rang through my head.
“Okay, as your gay best friend, I am screaming that you found a hot lawyer to bang. But also as your best friend, I must say that I’m concerned about the ethics around this case.”
That’s when I started laughing. Not because I thought it was funny, but because I agreed. This was full-on nervous laughter.
“I mean, I can’t even decide if this is quite literally either the worst decision you’ve ever made, or the best. I need specifics Cassie, what happened?”
I didn't even fight it, I dove right in. I would say I paced, but with the amount of space she had I was doing laps around her apartment. Yapping Oliver’s ear off about Manon and everything that had happened since the day I moved in up until now.
I refused to give him details about the night we shared, feeling like that was the one line I wasn't willing to cross. What we did was something I don't think I could even describe or be able to put into words.
“So, you think she’s lying to you about something?”
“WHAT? No! I just don’t think she wants to tell me, like she’s holding back. I don’t know, fuck. I’ve been talking for almost forty minutes—.” I glanced at the clock on the stove when I made it back downstairs from another lap around.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked, praying he’d tell me what I needed to hear.
“You’re asking me if I think you’re crazy for sleeping with the lawyer representing your case, and then wanting to snoop through their private things?”
The sarcasm in his voice made my eyes squeeze closed. What the fuck was I thinking?
My hand raised to rub my sweaty palm across my forehead. Shit, am I really this desperate?
I didn’t realize I said that last question out loud until Oliver cleared his throat. He sounded more serious this time—which he rarely ever did. The therapist in him was starting to show with the way he lowered his tone.
“I don’t know, Cassie. I feel like this one is up to you. If you say you trust her, then she’ll probably come to you and talk about it when she’s ready.”
My chest fell with resignation. I was shuddering inwardly at every word he said because he was right.
“But...” His voice dragged on, and I couldn’t help but sit forward.
“If you’re worried something was wrong with her, then it may not hurt to see for yourself. But Cassie, remember no matter what there will be consequences.”
My fingertips pinched the bridge of my nose out of frustration. I thought I was finally thinking clearly. He just scrambled my brain back up within seconds.
But I knew what Oliver was doing, he was giving me a 360 view of the situation, not just what I wanted to hear. He was leaving me space to decide on my own.
“Damn, you're good.” I let out an exasperated sigh, as my elbows rested on the kitchen island.
It may not have been what I was expecting when I initially called, but I should’ve known Oliver wasn’t going to give me a cut-and-dry answer. He wasn’t in my shoes or this situation, and he wasn’t going to be fake and act like he was. Oliver was my best friend because he listened to me but never fed my ego. He was always going to tell me exactly how he felt respectfully like a soon-to-be therapist would.
“I know.” He responded with smugness and delight.
After ending the call and setting the phone back down, my eyes found Leo. They were almost forced to with the way he was sitting perched up on the back of Manon’s couch, just staring straight into my soul.
It was as if he knew.
I paused when I realized the thin slits of yellow were his eyes. I started looking over each of my shoulders to make sure I was seeing correctly.
“Leo?” I questioned, my voice low and reserved.
But all he did was turn his head and whine in response.
My shoulders slumped. “Leo, I really don’t need your judgement right now.”
I threw my head back with a loud groan. Even my own cat was turning on me.
A long ping rang through the empty walls of the kitchen and my eyes drew straight for her laptop.
It was another email.
I think it was that sound that did it for me, the dreadful sound of Manon getting an email. Ever since that day everything changed, I couldn’t hear it the same. I cringed each time, hoping it wasn’t something that would distance us any further.
But she wasn’t here now, and that was the last reminder I needed before walking from one side of the kitchen to the other I had been avoiding this entire time. With every step, Oliver’s words played in my head like a song I couldn’t forget.
No matter what there will be consequences.
Even the quick glance I gave Leo didn't change my mind. His eyes were shooting daggers into me as if he was disappointed as soon as I sat down on the barstool in front of the laptop.
When my finger grazed the mouse pad, the screen lit back up almost immediately.
My breath hitched when I realized it was still unlocked, conveniently on her email inbox. Before I could think twice, I was scrolling; but quickly stopped when I realized just how many emails Manon received between that day and now.
Two weeks had passed, but the page kept cycling through, and I was still stuck on emails from two days ago. I quickly searched for the date she’d received it and started loading through pages of opened emails, my eyes frantic as I scanned the inbox.
At first, I didn’t see anything. Only emails from Grace regarding paperwork, or upcoming meetings. Even the filler ones were all just updates for her Google Calendar. There was nothing eye-catching or jaw-drop—
My chin hung, leaving my mouth open in disbelief.
I couldn’t believe the name I was reading. My hand began to shake, barely able to move the mouse over an email from two weeks ago.
Nick Leed
There was a feeling of sourness that twisted in the pit of my stomach, almost making me jump from my seat. But I needed to see it for myself. And as my eyes reluctantly scanned through the most unexpected email ever, the only thing I could think was why ? Why would Manon not tell me about my case?
I was so deep in thought I didn’t hear it. I didn’t hear the front door slamming shut. Or even the sound of Manon’s keys dropping into the trinket bowl by the entrance. Leo did though. I saw from the corner of my eye a flash of black fur scurrying out of view. But I paid it no mind, when I was reading that Blue Wheels was willing to dismiss the claims being filed against me.
It must have been fate—or maybe karma—that I saw the last day to respond was today, all at the same exact moment Manon’s voice sliced through the deafening silence surrounding me.
“What are you doing?”