CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CASSIE
The room was ice cold, colder than usual, it made the tiny hairs on my arms stand for attention. While my skin prickled in goosebumps, I could feel the palms of my hands fill with sweat.
When I looked around the blurry courtroom, a sheer white veil was cast over it. Making my eyes blink rapidly as I tried to clear my vision. But it never changed. It felt like I was in a fishbowl, the way every noise sounded muffled. The chairs moved and people whispered.
It all sounded underwater, which only confused me further. But everyone was there. Judge Hickerson sat up high on his bench, although it seemed taller and a bit more exaggerated than usual. Nick Leed stood at the stands with the same smug expression on his face as he always did, only this time, the small smirk was a full-on grin.
And the way Judge Hickerson returned his smile—scared me even more. It looked straight out of a horror movie, the way their smiles stretched across their faces. It looked as if someone was pinning the corners of their mouths back, and I let out a squeal when they both simultaneously turned to face me. Before tilting their chins downward until their eyes sat low and the shadow from their hair made their faces darken.
I was in an actual horror movie.
The audible gulp I made could’ve come straight from a cartoon, the way you could probably hear it from across the room. It was all my worst and biggest fears at once. The way all the attention in the room was directed toward me but in the most terrifying way possible.
I could count the seconds of silence that were left between us all as the time on the clock kept ticking away. But each tic only got louder. As if it was being played on a speaker. but only in my head because no one else looked affected by it.
This time there was only one person in the courtroom that looked out of place, uncomfortable or sketchy—and it was me.
When my shaky eyes turned to glance to my right I almost fell out of my chair when I noticed the seat next to me was empty. My heart dropped into the empty pit in my stomach, and I heard the thud when it hit the bottom.
Where the hell was Manon?
A panic like I had never known before welled inside of my throat, the walls were slowly caving in. Not just figuratively but legitimately. I could see the walls on either side of me start to move inward. It was slow and agonizingly painful to watch as the room only got narrower. Leaving only the three of us staring at each other. Judge Hickerson and Nick Leed never stopped smiling, their bodies as still as statues.
Just as the walls began to reach the sides of my desk, it stopped, and Judge Hickerson tilted his head.
“Are you ready to represent yourself?”
***
“SHIT!” I exclaimed as my body shot forward.
I just had a nightmare.
A short-lived wave of dizziness washed over me as my body readjusted to the abrupt movement. I was hot, like extremely hot. I could feel the droplet of sweat beginning to run down my chest due to gravity. My head whipped around and when I remembered that I wasn’t in a custom-built infinity bed, or surrounded by cloud-like pillows and comforters, I immediately sighed.
Instead, I was lying on my paper-thin mattress that was being supported by the weakest bed frame made in history. I always said it reminded me of a cardboard box, but just with legs. Although I never really realized how shitty it was until now, the comparison was almost devastating. I had already added to the ongoing mental list of everything I could blame Manon for.
Even Leo refused to lay in the bed, he acted like it was the worst thing alive. Which only added to his short list of everything he could blame me for.
By the time we finally got back home from hitching a ride with Oliver, Leo was done with me. In fact, he was over me the second I snatched him up at Manon’s. I had to do it quickly because I knew he would fight back, and there was no chance in hell that I was going to leave without him. Even if that meant that I looked like a maniac outside her apartment building for about ten minutes with a wailing cat in arm.
I didn’t care.
He even screamed the entire ride home with his black fur squished up against the window, as if he knew where we were going. But I was thankful for that time because the sound of his dramatic cries drowned out half of Oliver’s questions that I was already acting like I couldn’t hear.
But now that he was quiet, I almost wished that he wasn’t. Because Leo’s meow was the most comforting sound I knew. Yet, since we’ve been back home, I haven’t heard a peep from him. His body refused to leave the only window we had, and he’d sit there for hours staring down at the busy roads. I hated to think of him being depressed, but I was suffering from the same thing.
Leo refused to cuddle or give kisses. He didn't even care for scratches. Instead, he either stood on the windowsill like a bird on its perch or lay on the cold, hard ground. Either choice wasn’t his usual, but he was going through a roller coaster of emotions just like I was.
There were only five days left until my trial, and I had spent every day in a different stage of grief. They’d all start out the same exact way, with a nightmare about my case, before I usually woke up screaming.
***
On day one, I was hysterical. My cries gave Leo a run for his money, and Dara, my next-door neighbor, checked in on me three times in one day. Which only made me cry harder when I realized how thin my walls had to be or how loud I was screaming.
At Manon’s, we were able to fuck on any and every surface available, without any fear of anyone hearing us. It was beautiful how freeing it felt to be able to release every bit of you. I was reminded of that feeling every time Dara’s worried eyes met mine, and each time my heart broke just a little bit more.
I had already flipped my pillow too many times because the whole pillowcase was practically drenched with my tears. While I sweat through every pair of pajamas I owned in just one night's worth of sleep. It was the nightmares, they started well before day one, but they got more intense as time went on. I was starting to get to a point where I wasn’t even getting enough sleep to be able to call them nightmares. I would spring forward in a frantic panic almost every two hours like clockwork, and the night terrors were my alarm clock.
It was the same dream every time though, like someone had it playing on a loop in my head. I was always back in the courtroom, and every time I’d look at Judge Hickerson and Nick Leed the look on their faces would instantly make me start sweating profusely. So much so, that it flooded out of my dreams and into my reality.
Manon was never there.
I couldn't tell if that was what my subconscious desired or feared. But each time my eyes would glance down at the empty chair next to me it felt like my whole chest went empty. A permanent sorrow began to weigh me down as the inexplicable feeling of despair seared my heart. My mind was languid, without hope, and to me, Manon was that hope.
On day two, I moved into the “numbing” stage. My tears had dried from the day before, but my feelings were still raw. The open wounds bled primitive grief over whatever relationship Manon, and I even had. Those things were never clear from the beginning, and maybe if we had been, we wouldn’t be in this situation. But at the time, labels seemed so daunting on something so fresh, especially with our circumstances. I think the last thing either of us wanted to ask each other was, “What are we?”
But now that all of this had happened, the fact that we weren’t even actually together just made me feel even more stupid. I got myself into a situation that I had no real reason to feel trapped in, but it was hurting me more than my past relationships. Ones that I spent a couple of years in and had given my all to, but here was Manon swooping in and taking the spot as my number one heartbreaker.
Although we’d have to be considered a couple for that to stand. If anything, the majority of outside people looking in would probably call our relationship “friends with benefits,” and it took us a while to even get to the friend part of that.
Manon was mean, broody, moody and everything I had never had in a partner. She was adamant about sticking up for me or just listening to me talk and somehow knew every word I needed to hear.
Her character was brutally cynical and manipulative. To get me with her looks, her charms, and even her intelligence. She had me wrapped around her finger until she became a puppet master.
I wondered when that all changed for her or if was it that way from the start. Had she planned the whole thing the second she found out about my case?
I knew she was still considered a new-ish lawyer, but I picked her because I didn't think she would see me as just another case number or dollar sign.
I couldn’t cry though; I was so overwhelmed with emotions that at a certain point everything just went dry. My mind felt like I was watching all my problems fly past me, except they were moving at the speed of light while my hands moved slower than time.
I was in a daze most of the day, the grey clouds matched my mood, and I spent most of the time with my head leaned up against the glass just like Leo. We watched and surveyed the world as everyone moved on with their lives without a clue of the depression that was looming over them.
For me, it felt like the whole world stopped. Like the grey clouds were a direct reflection of how I was feeling. But as much as I selfishly wanted it to be, that just wasn’t the case.
The world always kept spinning, and so did the days.
While day three was a blur, day four was the first day I felt actual sunshine hit my skin.
It wasn’t by choice of course, but when I heard someone banging on my door like a policeman waiting to break in. I didn’t have any other option but to let the sun blare into my eyes as I cracked open the seal that has been locked shut, since day one of Dara’s check-ins. This was the first time I even heard the hinges on the door squeak.
When I didn’t see someone in uniform, but instead a curly-haired Oliver dressed in all black, I rolled my eyes and sighed before stepping back to widen the gap and let him in.
My voice was muddled and grim. “Hurry up before you let my depression seep out,” I muttered, as he quickened his pace.
In one swift motion, I slammed the door shut before locking it closed. I didn’t even spare him a glance as I left him in my shadows and hopped right back into bed. The solid loud thud that followed, was another painful reminder of my situation.
“Damn, it’s good to see you too.” He replied with sarcasm coating every word.
I finally glanced away from my view of the partially empty road and back to Oliver, he looked like he was on the way to rob someone. Everything was black, the beanie, hoodie, skintight jeans, and tee shirt. My eyes gave him one of his own judgmental once-overs.
“What’s with the outfit?” I questioned, and for the first time in a while my voice rose another octave.
His eyes squinted as he put his hands on his hips, he looked annoyed that I even started with that question.
“Really? You haven't returned my texts, calls, and emails, in over a week, then I come to break into your home so I can make sure you’re alive and you have the nerve to question my outfit ?!”
Oliver's hands were flying everywhere as he spoke, and it was at that moment I realized that's where I got it from.
Manon had mentioned to me before that I “talked with my hands” but it wasn’t until my energy was low and I wasn't acting the same way, that I could actually notice.
He was loud, expressive, and almost every emotion he could have flickered across his face. He was as readable as a children’s picture book. God, were we both really like this?
The sound of quick snaps brings me back to reality and all I can see is his fingers directly in my face.
“Earth to Cassie...” His voice drags on, and quickly I shove him back.
“Oli! I’m just not in the mood right now.” I whined, finally admitting my defeat. I didn’t have the energy to argue or fight Oliver on anything right now, I just wanted to lay in my filth and rot.
“I know, it’s almost like that’s the reason I’m here—”
My eyes couldn't even muster up the strength to roll them, I just merely stared.
“—Cassie, your trial is quite literally in two days, you realize that, right?”
His question tugged at something in me, and I immediately snapped back.
“Why do you think I look like this Oliver? I clearly know that.” I used my hands to point out the mess I created of myself.
But his stance and face remained firm, like he was un-bothered by my outburst. His arms crossed lazily before he began tapping his foot.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought all of this was because you fucked up and read that damn email.” His voice came out sharp and my neck snapped.
In a matter of seconds, the emotional warfare that I was battling, was replaced with rage and confusion.
“You can’t possibly be telling me that all of this was my fault.” My breath was caught in my throat as I stared at Oliver like he had grown an extra head.
His hands flew up in defense, “I didn’t say that, but I did say that she could’ve had good reason, especially if she knew this was how you were going to react. Did you even ask her why she did it?”
I chewed on my bottom lip as his words began to sink in. I was thinking about his question long and hard because that whole moment happened so fast it was like a blur in my eyes. I hadn’t thought about how it looked to her or what her thought process could have been.
I guess I just skipped to the worst assumption.
My low eyes finally met his overly confident ones, and he looked like he was fighting back a smirk. Like he knew he had just popped my glass bubble of self-pity.
I hesitated before speaking, “No... I more so just accused her of using me for money,” I admitted, then quickly lowered my gaze in shame.
Holy shit, what did I just do?
As if the days I spent grieving the idea of Manon and I together weren’t enough, I now had to consider the fact that I could’ve had it all wrong from the start.
My mind couldn’t take the throbbing that was starting to grow. I had just gone through this.
I had already built it up in my head and accepted Manon as just another shitty person that I’d spend years trying to erase from my memory. I was prepared and ready to go on that journey. It would be painful and long, but I had no other choice.
At least I thought I didn't, until now.
Oliver grabs both of my hands that laid limp in my lap, forcing me to look him in the eye.
“Cassie, I didn't come here to push you deeper in the dumps or make you feel worse than I know you already do. I came to remind you that in two days, that woman is going into that court to kick ass for you. Nobody else but you.”
My eyes welled, just like they did days ago. I honestly didn’t think I could ever cry again, the way I let my apartment flood with my tears. But these ones were different, it felt like I had just gotten my first glimmer of hope, and I didn’t care how weak it made me look.
Oliver was right, none of this bullshit even mattered when at the end of the day she was the one who showed up for me continuously. Whether that was when I showed up late and with pink hair, or when four grown men were trying to derail my life. She was the one standing there, speaking up for me.
Tears blinded my eyes as my eyelids finally fell in complete defeat. The weight of them burned, and for once I was starting to feel the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with me.
It was as if that instant realization released something from within me. I thought I needed to grieve for Manon like I did my parents, but my own abandonment issues were causing me to lash out and spiral. Manon hadn’t lied to me since the day we met, I knew that without even having to think about it. In fact, I knew she was perfect, and subconsciously it was clear I was afraid of that.
And the second I thought she dropped the ball I called it quits before she could even say anything.
My head shook.
“I should’ve known.” I muttered under my breath, as I held back tears of disappointment.
I should’ve known that what I had accused her of wasn’t the case when she did the same thing for our pre-trial. She never told me what she planned on saying, or how much information she had found out about my case. I thought she was letting me go in blind because she didn’t think I understood.
But no.
“She was protecting me.” I said, this time louder.
My head spun, as my tear-stained cheeks began to dry, and my once empty pit in my stomach became rock hard with determination.
As my eyes widened, I jumped out of my bed and started gathering my leopard print coat, and my hot pink pair of cowgirl boots. I was one foot in before Oliver cut in.
His arms shooting out to grab my second boot before I could. “Whoa! What do you think you're doing?”
His voice was slightly muffled as all I could pay attention to was the buzzing in my brain, and the butterflies filling my stomach. “I need to go see Manon.”
I spoke sternly and clearly. I haven’t felt this confident in myself in weeks. When I tried to reach out for my second boot with a small smile already forming on my face, Oliver jerked his hand back.
“Uh, yeah no. Do you even know what you look like right now?”
I scoffed while turning to face him.
“It can’t be that bad.” I rolled my eyes and reached out again before he took another step back. But before I could protest, a meow stretched between the two of us and caused the both of us to stop dead in our tracks and turn to see Leo sitting on the window seal but this time facing us.
My face softened; this was the first sound he’s made in days.
“See, he agrees!” Oliver adds. I huff out a short breath before running to check my appearance in the mirror.
Holy hell.
How could I have not seen this? I looked terrible.
The first thing my eyes shoot to is my hair, the cotton candy pink had faded away a long time ago leaving me with a peachy toned tint. But that wasn't the worst of it, that was just the most notable issue.
Then it was my brows. My face leaned in closer to the mirror to inspect them, but still, I couldn’t make out their shape. They always grew fast, but I guess it had been a while, because they were damn-near to my hairline.
My face was red and stained with multiple day’s worth of tears, I looked exactly like I had felt.
Lost, confused, and unsure of myself. Oliver was right, I couldn’t show up to her place like this. I had done that one too many times, with almost every single meeting we’ve ever had. But for once I wanted a change, not because I didn’t think Manon would like me how I was.
If I was honest, I don’t think she ever cared how I looked, I think she just liked me.
I could have pink hair one day and yellow the next and I think we’d still fuck just like any other time before I could have pink hair one day and yellow the next, and I think we’d still fuck just like any other time before. This wasn’t about my trial—though that would’ve been a good reason. But they’d already seen what a mess I was from day one, so if I was trying to get on anyone’s good side based on appearances, that ship had sailed.
This urge to do something different was for me .
“I can physically see the wheel turning in your head right now Cass, what’s going on?”
I turned to Oliver who was sitting on the edge of my bed, watching me.
“I think it’s time for a change.”
On the last day before my trial, I received an email from Manon.
I almost jumped out of my own skin when I woke up and the notification was sitting there at the top of my screen. Before I even clicked on it, I checked the time she sent it.
2:25am
My face scrunched up in confusion. Why the hell was Manon working at almost 2:30 in the morning?
Especially the day before trial. I instinctively started chewing on my bottom lip as the page began to load. It had to have been something important for her to need to contact me that early.
She’d only do that if it was something urgent—
The email loaded.
Subject: Urgent: Evidence from Blue Wheels
Dear Cassie,
I’ve re-reviewed the documents found in your case, specifically the ones Blue Wheels filed as evidence. The evidence they obtained was through their HANDS-FREE DETECTION DEVICE , and the report suggests that a device was in use while you were driving. Which does allow them to position the accident as negligence.
I know that we are not currently on speaking terms, but part of that was because I never did my job of keeping you in the loop. So, I hope you can understand my reasoning for contacting you before your trial.
Please let me know if you have any other information that could be relevant to this evidence. This is a critical development, but I wanted to keep you involved to the best of my abilities.
Best regards, Manon Kapo or