Reid
The deposition room held a table, chairs, a recording device.
She was composed. Her chin slightly lifted, her shoulders back.
"And your relationship with Ms. Lawson," the prosecutor said. "You would describe it as professional?"
A pause. “I would describe it as friendly,” Julian said. "She was always very warm.” He smiled briefly, ruefully.
Reid watched Maya’s profile.
"At any point," the prosecutor continued, "did the nature of your relationship with Ms. Lawson become—personal?"
Reid stopped breathing for a moment.
Julian didn't look at Maya. He looked at Reid and he smiled.
"I didn't want to say this," he said.
"Mr. Cross," the prosecutor said. “You’re under oath.”
"She made it clear that she was—" Julian paused. "Interested. In me. On more than one occasion. She was very clear about wanting something outside of her marriage.” He held Reid’s gaze. "I knew how much Reid loved her. I didn't want to be the one to tell him that his wife was a—“
"That's enough," her lawyer interjected sharply.
Reid was aware of several things simultaneously. Sullivan’s hand on his arm, pulling him back, the fact that he was half out of his seat anyway. The defense lawyer leaning toward Maya, speaking quietly. The recording device on the table, its small red light steady.
He was aware of Maya.
He could see her face in profile, the careful set of her mouth.
She was the most extraordinary person he had ever known and she was sitting in a sterile deposition room being lied about by a man who had sat at their kitchen table and smiled at her face.
A man he had brought into their lives.
Julian's voice continued but Reid wasn’t even listening.
Because Reid knew his wife.
He knew her the way he knew his own breathing. He knew her notebooks and her favorite sweaters. He knew her dedication, her work. He knew her heart and he knew her soul.
Julian was still spewing his lies. “She was emotional. Needy. Looking for validation wherever she could get it.”
"My client denies this categorically," her lawyer said.
“Well,” Julian snorted. "Of course she does."
Reid looked at his wife.
She sat, back straight, eyes fixed on a point somewhere above the prosecutor's head.
He wanted to cross the room and sit beside her and take her hand in his. He wanted to shield her from this indignity. He wanted to show the room that he trusted her and loved her and believed her. He wanted to show her that.
Julian caught his eye, satisfaction on his face. Reid looked back at his wife.
She was so composed. So wonderful. She was holding herself together in front of these people.
This was Reid’s fault, too. He had done this to her.
Every moment of pain, every embarrassment, every humiliation.
He owed her a debt he couldn't calculate.
He would be paying it every day for the rest of his life.
Starting the moment this deposition ended and he could get Julian Cross alone in a room.