Chapter Six
Six
The city of Cambridge, in Massachusetts, was located a mere ten miles away from Woburn and the courthouse where Nelson’s trial had taken place.
It was home to Harvard University, one of the most prestigious and well-known universities in the world, and that was exactly where Oakfield had suggested that he and Sam went for a drink – not to the university itself but to Harvard Square, which funnily enough was actually triangular in shape and located outside the university campus.
The square, which was a favorite among students and professors alike, offered an abundance of coffee shops, restaurants, bars and, obviously, bookshops.
Oakfield and Sam each drove their own cars – Oakfield leading and Sam following – and he guided her to a stylish and sleek cocktail bar right at the western end of the square called The Longfellow.
The time was just coming up to five-thirty in the afternoon, and despite being only Wednesday, the place was almost packed to capacity.
The waitress at the entrance explained that she had no booths available at that time, but they could either sit at the bar, or take one of the outside tables, under a heater.
Oakfield and Sam opted for the outside table.
Sam ordered a Cosmopolitan, while Oakfield went for a single malt on the rocks.
‘Have you filed for divorce yet?’ Oakfield asked, once the waitress was out of earshot.
‘I wanted to, but my divorce lawyer told me that we should wait for the criminal court verdict.’
‘Who’s your divorce lawyer?’
‘Kristin Miller.’
‘Oh, she’s great.’ Oakfield nodded his approval, while he sipped his Scotch. ‘Actually, she’s one of the best. And she’s one hundred percent right – the criminal court verdict will make a world of difference. Was Kristin in court today? I didn’t see her.’
‘No, she wasn’t.’
‘Does she know the outcome of the trial?’
‘Yes, we spoke briefly on the phone right after the verdict.’
‘So she’s probably already told you that it will be even better if you wait for Judge Reeves to pass sentence first before filing the divorce petition.’
‘Yes,’ Sam confirmed.
Oakfield paused and studied Sam for a few seconds.
Despite what the stress of the past couple of months had done to her, she was still a very beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that, but right then, she looked more like a scared little child than a woman who was just about to become a millionaire.
‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Oakfield asked.
Sam shook her head.
Oakfield lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag.
‘Actually,’ Sam said, nodding at the packet on the table. ‘Could I have one of those as well?’
‘Of course.’ Oakfield tapped a new cigarette out of the packet before lighting it up for her. ‘I didn’t know you smoke.’
‘I stopped about two years ago. Nelson forced me to, but since this whole thing began…’ Sam allowed the unfinished sentence to dance away in the air, just like the smoke that she blew out of the corner of her mouth.
Oakfield nodded, sympathetically. He knew that for Sam, going back to smoking was much more than just giving in to the crave.
It was a way for her to get back at Nelson.
The fact that she had just sent him to prison didn’t matter.
What mattered was that she was doing something that he had specifically stopped her from doing.
Psychologically, going back to smoking symbolized “taking back control” of her actions and of her life.
‘I’m guessing that you want to get as much out of this shitty deal as you can, right?’ Oakfield asked.
Sam had a sip of her cocktail. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well. You were married to a millionaire, who turned out to be a narcissistic scumbag. In a regular divorce litigation, you would easily be able to walk away with at least half of what he had – properties, cars, money… even his wardrobe, if you so wished to.’
‘Nelson isn’t as wealthy as you might think,’ Sam quickly added.
‘Maybe not when compared to some of the fortunes around Woburn,’ Oakfield accepted it. ‘But he was still pretty wealthy by most people’s standards. Just the house that you lived in together is worth what – five… six mil?’
Sam’s reply was a shy movement, trying to tuck a lock of bristly hair behind her right ear.
‘So, this is what I’m trying to tell you,’ Oakfield carried on.
‘If this was a normal divorce case – you and your husband deciding that it just wasn’t working out anymore and it was time for both of you to go your separate ways – any a-dime-an-hour lawyer could’ve gotten you fifty percent of everything.
’ He dipped his head sideways and gave Sam a wink that came across a lot slimier than he would’ve wanted.
‘But now, your soon-to-be ex-husband is an adulterous and convicted “wife-beater” – someone who caused you a world of pain, both physically and psychologically.’ Oakfield shook his head, as he took another long drag of his cigarette.
‘You can’t put a price on what he did to you, Sam.
You can’t put a price on how much he made you suffer, and a good divorce lawyer knows that.
’ He lifted his finger at Sam to halt her before she could say anything.
‘A great divorce lawyer, like Kristin, can bleed that motherfucker dry. You can walk away with everything, Sam, leaving behind nothing but a huge “fuck you, Nelson”.’
Sam’s anxious gaze darted away for a split second before coming back to Oakfield.
‘I don’t want to bleed him dry. That’s just going to make him even angrier.
All I want is to get my life back, you know?
I want to be able to wake up and not feel scared from the moment I open my eyes.
I don’t want money, especially his money.
’ Sam’s voice faltered, as tears began welling up in her eyes.
Oakfield stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Do you intend to move on with your life in Woburn? Do you have friends and family there?’
‘God, no.’ Sam chuckled the words at Oakfield. ‘I have maybe a couple of people I can call friends, but that’s all. Nelson was way too controlling to allow me to have friends of my own.’
‘Where are you from… originally?’
‘Missouri, but I ain’t going back there either.’
Oakfield detected a different kind of pain in the curves of Sam’s words. Something that hinted that maybe her relationship with her family wasn’t a great one. He decided not to ask.
‘Do you have some place in mind? Some place you’d like to go to start over?’
Sam’s headshake was a tense one. ‘Maybe this whole thing was a mistake, you know? I shouldn’t have done this.
I should’ve just packed what I had and left.
I shouldn’t have taken him to court. Now, Nelson will come for me.
I know he will. Maybe not now… maybe not in a year…
or two… or five, but he’ll come for me, and when he does, he won’t just slap me about and handcuff me to the pipework. ’
‘He might come for you, sure,’ Oakfield agreed, to Sam’s surprise, but it was what he said next that really seemed to catch her attention. ‘But he won’t be able to do anything if he can’t find you, will he?’
Sam used a paper napkin to dab the tears from her cheeks. ‘What do you mean?’
Oakfield finished his Scotch and signaled the waitress for a new one. ‘Would you like another Cosmo?’
‘No, I’m OK for now, thank you. What are you talking about? Nelson not finding me?’
Oakfield lit up a new cigarette. ‘Like I said, your soon-to-be ex-husband is now a convicted wife-beater… not to mention a cheater, and that will only make things easier for you.’
‘How so?’
‘Two reasons. One – it will completely expedite the divorce process,’ Oakfield explained. ‘I’ll be surprised if Kristin doesn’t have everything finalized a week after sentencing.’
Sam’s eyebrows arched, but in a positive way.
‘And two,’ Oakfield continued. ‘That little threatening stunt that Nelson pulled at the end.’ He lifted a finger for emphasis. ‘Right in front of Judge Reeves, will give Kristin plenty of grounds to initiate a process for an identity change.’
‘Excuse me?’ Sam’s head angled slightly to the left.
‘Sam, you’re still so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Please don’t allow the two years that you spent with that scumbag to destroy the rest of your life.’
‘I’m thirty-four years old,’ Sam said back, as if thirty-four was the age of ancient gods. ‘I’m not that young.’
Oakfield threw his head back as he laughed. ‘Trust me, Sam, you’re still so very young.’
The waitress brought Oakfield a new Scotch on the rocks.
‘You said that all you wanted was to put this whole thing behind you and move on with your life, right?’
Sam nodded, as she also finished her cigarette.
‘Well, believe it or not, this is the perfect opportunity,’ Oakfield explained, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. ‘I know that this is a cliché sentence, used by many lawyers, but in your case, this is one hundred percent true.’
Sam frowned at Oakfield. ‘What sentence?’
‘The one that goes – “This is the first day of the rest of your life”.’
Sam chewed on her bottom lip.
‘And I’m talking about your brand-new life,’ Oakfield continued.
‘Everything that was said in that courtroom from day one has been recorded and noted down by the court reporters and the stenographers. And I mean every… single… word, including Nelson’s outbursts.
All you need to do is tell Kristin that after the events of today, you would like to file for a change of identity on the grounds of personal safety. ’
Sam’s eyes narrowed at Oakfield, who gave her a new smile.
‘And this is part two of why it was such a huge mistake for Nelson to have threatened you the way he did.’ Oakfield sat back on his chair, with a triumphant air about him.
‘There is no judge in the country who won’t sign off on the papers for an identity change after reading today’s trial transcripts.
’ He paused for a second to allow Sam to grasp what he was really saying.
‘You’ll be able to pick a new name for yourself, Sam…
any name you like… and that name will come with a whole new batch of documents – driver’s license, passport, social security – the whole nine yards.
You’ll be able move anywhere you want – some place where no one will know who you are.
’ Oakfield sipped his Scotch and gave Sam a renewed smile.
‘You can move to Europe if you like – London, Paris, Berlin – the choice is yours.’
Sam held her breath for a moment.
‘How is that for starting again away from Nelson?’
Sam’s silence was thoughtful and heavy, a ghost of a smile haunting her lips.
‘Still thinking twice about bleeding that scumbag dry?’ Oakfield added.