A Moment
That night, we celebrated with a long dinner at a French restaurant on the Strip.
It was wonderful; I could breathe again.
I even dared to take off my white scarf, relishing the warm breeze through my hair, though I kept my sunglasses on.
We chatted, ate, drank, and laughed for hours, as if the trial were over—but it wasn’t.
Despite the exuberance, remembering the upcoming closing arguments and jury deliberations sent a pang of fear stabbing through me.
Colton wasn’t concerned. “I could send my closing argument by mail tomorrow, and we’d still win this,” he said, showing off a little as he squeezed my hand. “The evidence against you is all but dismantled. Remember, we only need reasonable doubt for an acquittal.”
But later, at home, he showed the same diligence in preparing the closing statement, as if my life depended on it. And, to some unknown extent, it still did.
After a long shower, I found Billy Ray crashed on the sofa, snoring with the TV remote clutched in his hand. Colton sat at the dining room table, jotting notes. He stood when I approached.
“How are you feeling?”
I smiled shyly, afraid to jinx it. “Okay . . . relieved, I guess. Anxious, too . . . We still have tomorrow. What if something happens?”
He drew closer and tugged a loose strand of hair behind my ear, the way he used to do when we’d been young. The simple gesture warmed my heart. “It will be all right,” he whispered, pulling me closer. “I promise.”
I gazed into his blue eyes and saw the love I’d lost ten years ago, undamaged. “Colton, I—”
His lips found mine, and it felt like coming home.
The weight of the courtroom, the tension of the trial .
. . everything melted away as I lost myself in the familiar embrace.
His kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters of something long forgotten.
With every passing second, it deepened, becoming more urgent, fueled by years of unspoken words. Of longing and regrets.
When we finally pulled apart, breathless, he stroked my cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Everything will be all right, sweet girl,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ll see.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let the fear win. “I know,” I whispered back, my voice barely audible. “I trust you, Colton. You saved my life.”
As the warmth of the moment settled, a gnawing sense of dread began to creep back into my mind, freezing me to my core.
Tomorrow was another day in court, and anything was possible.
As much as I wanted to believe his promises, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something dark and terrifying still lingered on the horizon.
“We should rest,” Colton said, breaking the silence. “Big day tomorrow.” He pulled away slightly but kept his hand on mine, as if he was afraid to let go.
I nodded, trying to push the unease from my mind. Then I pulled my hand out of his as gently as I could. “Yes . . . Good night, Colton.”