15. Leah
CHAPTER 15
Leah
I was having one of those mornings where everything felt right. The sky outside my office window was a perfect shade of blue. The hustle and bustle of the courthouse was energizing. This was a change. Most days for the past years since my divorce, I’d felt tired all the time. But not anymore!
I started my day with excellent sex in Marco’s bed. He was coming for dinner at my place tonight, and we’d have excellent sex in my bed. And just now, I’d helped a young client escape a toxic marriage with full custody and a settlement that meant she wouldn’t have to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to. She wanted to, and that was up to her, but she didn’t have to and could take care of her children without worrying about someone hitting her or them.
When she hugged me outside the courtroom, thanking me again and again, I felt a quiet pride. I had done this. I had helped her have a better life, and I had helped her children have a safe home. This was what I wanted to do: help women rebuild their lives the way I’d had to rebuild mine.
Today was a good fucking day.
As I left the courtroom and headed down the marble corridor, my phone buzzed in my bag. I pulled it out and smiled when I saw the text from Davis.
Davis: Dinner at our place next Friday? Presley and I want to cook for you and Marco.
I typed back quickly: Of course! Let me know what I can bring.
The way he included Marco made my heart sing. This was happening, this was serious, this was going places, and it was real and awesome.
It was new, this rebuilding of my relationships with my kids, but each time they reached out to me, it felt like another piece of my heart stitched itself back together.
How had life that had seemed so bleak become so full of wonder?
I was slipping my phone back into my bag when the universe decided to screw with my day.
“Leah.” The way Kevin said my name grated on my nerves. “What’re you doing in court?” His voice slithered through me like cold water.
He stepped in front of me, making it impossible to avoid the son of a bitch.
He was dressed in one of his tailored navy suits with a perfectly knotted silver tie, his hair combed neatly back.
“Your clothes make a statement, not just what they are but how you carry them. Your problem, Leah, is not that this Prada dress doesn’t fit you—it’s that you’re awkward in it.”
I immediately thought about what I was wearing. An Anne Klein suit I’d bought on sale at Macy’s.
“This is a courthouse, Kevin.” I gestured around us. “And I’m a lawyer.”
He smirked, and it made my stomach roll. Every time I talked to a woman like my client today, I realized that I’d been in a toxic marriage myself. I just hadn't known it, and it had taken Kevin cheating on me, telling me that he had because he’d fought with his mistress, who’d threatened to tell me about them, had pushed me into leaving him. I should’ve left him years ago when the kids were small. Hell, if I’d been smart, which I hadn’t been in my early twenties, I should’ve never married the asshole.
“Of course you are.”
Why hadn’t I noticed that each word from his mouth was designed to insult and demean, make me feel smaller?
I straightened. “I have to go?—”
“I’ve heard you’ve been doing...decent work.” His tone dripped with condescension. “Helping women who can’t afford better representation. Good for you.”
Right!
“Can’t say it was nice seeing you.” I hitched the strap of my bag on my shoulder.
“Considering what you charge, is that bag a gift?”
I looked at my black laptop bag. It was an expensive TUMI, one I’d bought when I won my first case at the law firm and had received a bonus.
I raised an eyebrow, and despite knowing fully well I should not draw myself into a conversation with Kevin, I said, “A gift from myself to me.”
“Marco not buying you presents? Ah, but if you’re fucking him already, then he probably doesn’t feel he has to buy you anything.”
“This conversation is over.”
He stood his ground, crossing his arms, blocking my path. “He has a lot of money. Runs a successful IT firm. Very successful. Owns a house in Buckhead, drives an eighty-thousand-dollar Audi, and has investments in half the tech startups in the Southeast.”
I knew Marco was comfortable, but I’d never thought much about his financial situation. I’d been too busy enjoying his company, getting to know the man who made me laugh and who held my hand when I felt unsteady.
“How does any of this concern you?” I lifted my chin.
Don’t engage him, Leah. Walk away . There is no profit in having this conversation with him.
But I couldn’t. I wanted to strike him where it hurt.
“Ever wonder what he sees in you?”
But I should’ve known that he was better at hitting the target than I ever could be. His question landed precisely where he intended. Kevin knew how to push my buttons—he had years of experience doing it. And I had years of experience hiding my emotions, so I did just that. I put on the old mask, though it didn’t fit as well as it used to. I wasn’t as practiced at wearing it anymore. With Marco, I didn’t need it. With him, I could always be myself. It was a gift. A luxury.
But why was Marco with me? A handsome, successful man like Marco could have anyone he wanted. Why would he choose barely-making-it, saggy Leah?
I shook my head, turned on my heel, and walked away from Kevin.
“Come on, Leah.” His malicious voice reached me and, unfortunately, a few others who were walking by. “You and I both know you’re not exactly...prime material anymore. Mid-forties, struggling to rebuild your career, a woman with baggage.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my throat tighten.
He walked with me, despite my silence.
“Men like Marco,” Kevin continued casually, “don’t settle for women like you. Not for long, anyway. I hope you’re prepared for that.”
I wanted to say something, to throw his words back in his face, but years of hearing this kind of poison had left scars. No matter how far I’d come, no matter how much I’d built myself up, Kevin had a way of making me feel small.
I ignored him because my throat was closed.
“When he dumps your ass as he will, come and see me, alright?”
I hurried my steps and thankfully, this time, he didn’t follow me.
By the time I reached my car, my hands were shaking. I sat behind the wheel for a few minutes, staring at the dashboard, willing the tears to stay put.
It’s not true! What Kevin said is not true, Leah. Marco is not going to dump your ass. He likes you. So, why do I believe Kevin? Why do his words cling to me like crude oil, sinking into every crack of my self-doubt?
I thought about Marco, about the way he looked at me, the way he listened when I talked, the way he treated me like I was worth something. And yet, the voice in the back of my mind whispered, why would someone like him want you?