Chapter 01 #2
“I perfectly recall everything we’ve discussed, Mr. Zucker. Ten more minutes of it won’t change anything.”
“Then allow us some time to prepare Miss Walker for—”
“She’s clever enough to counter whatever the prosecution will throw at her. Leave.”
A little disoriented, I watch as both lawyers comply.
I don’t feel clever enough. On the contrary, I feel like I’ll mess this up somehow.
Just as I consider calling them back, the door closes.
That’s when Lex finally turns around. The weariness on his handsome features nearly brings tears to my eyes.
The nightmare he’s been through is evident, and I’d do anything to take some of it off his shoulders.
We don’t speak for a moment, and I can’t help but notice his gaze evades mine, looking at anything but me. I’ve been desperate to see him for nine torturous days, and now that I am, I have no idea what to do or say … Asking how he’s doing seems so weak when I can’t do anything to help him.
He makes the first move, coming around the table to stand in front of me, still avoiding my eyes.
His body language is stiff and uneasy, his face closed off—even to me.
His lawyers didn’t ask me for a suit, so I guess this one’s brand new, perfectly tailored to his strong body.
Same for his glasses, which are almost identical to his usual ones.
He’s the epitome of rigorous professionalism, and I hope it’ll be enough to convince the judge of his strong moral fiber.
“I’m sorry,” he eventually says, breaking the silence.
“For what?”
“For dragging you into this whole mess.”
“I knew what I was getting into, Lex. You warned me.”
“I bet you wish you’d walked away that day, don’t you?” he asks with cynicism. Behind his facade, I see the pain, the anguish that his words might hold some truth.
“No,” I assert. “I’d rather be in this mess with you than at peace with anyone else.”
At last, his mesmerizing gray eyes meet mine, brows twisted in what must be doubt. “You deserve better, Andrea.”
“So do you. You deserve a medal for all you did, not a trial. And that’s why I’ll be right by your side the whole time, fighting for your freedom, fighting for the life we’re owed.”
His earlier insecurities return, and he looks away from my determined stare again. “It doesn’t look good for me. I think … I think you should get out of this while you still can.”
It’s my turn to doubt. “They haven’t found your Nammota room,” I counter. “Everything remains untouched, down to the last hard drive.”
He shakes his head, somehow disagreeing. “We had a meeting with the prosecution yesterday. They laid out some of the evidence they have against me, and it’s bad, Andrea.”
“How can it be bad? There’s never been anything before, not even crumbs.”
“They found a whole trail of it. Enough to get me arrested. Enough to go to trial. My counselors agree there’s a fifty-fifty chance we’ll lose.”
Oh, no … Those odds are bad. So much worse than I thought. Dread fills me as I let Lex’s words sink in. I’m sure those numbers are exaggerated. There’s no way two top-dog lawyers can’t get him out of this mess unscathed.
Gathering the little optimism left in me, I say, “It’s probably just a—”
“They offered a plea bargain,” he cuts me off.
I frown at that. “Isn’t it early for this?”
“They want to expedite the trial before it gets even more out of hand with the press.”
“Then it’s in their interest, not yours,” I counter.
“It isn’t, Andrea. It actually is a great deal.”
“What is it?”
“I have to plead guilty to one count of gathering classified information related to national defense.”
“In exchange for …?” I ask with apprehension.
“The statutory maximum sentence for that charge.”
“Which is?”
“Given my clean record, two hundred and ten months.”
I blink. “That’s—”
“Seventeen and a half years. With good behavior, I’d only serve ten of them in prison, then a few on supervised release.”
Shit. If that’s a “great” deal, what the fuck kind of sentence could he get if he loses the trial? “And the alternative?” I try.
“If we go to trial and lose, I’ll spend the rest of my life in prison.”
The taste of bile gathers in the back of my mouth, the idea so horrible it makes me sick. Jesus fucking Christ … Even if he takes the deal, what will be left of him in ten years? Lex can’t go to prison. He wouldn’t survive it. It will kill who he is at his core, annihilate him, scar him for life …
He can’t take the deal. He has to fight this. Ten years … an entire decade stolen from him … He can’t take the deal. Doesn’t he see there’s a third option there, one where he gets acquitted and everything’s back to being perfect?
Before I can express that, he crushes my heart by saying, “I’m taking the deal, Andrea.”
The world crumbles around me, like it did nine days ago. Helpless, I stand there, unable to form coherent thoughts, my heart shattering into a thousand tiny shards. Once he takes the deal, he’ll go to prison for ten years. There’s no turning back after that.
This isn’t happening. I won’t let it.
“No, you’re not,” I stubbornly counter, too shocked to think of anything else to say.
“Andrea, my decision is final. I’m not risking life in prison.”
“But you could also get no prison at all. Lex, you can’t lose hope.”
“I can do ten years. I’ll still have half of my life to live when I get out. But if we lose the trial, they might as well give me the death sentence.”
“Don’t say that. I’m sure you can win. Your attorneys can win. You’re acting like there are only two options, dismissing the third one entirely.”
“I would rather pick the sure outcome than gamble on one I have no control over.”
“But there must be another possibility. There’s no way they’ll find you guilty. They don’t have enough evidence.”
“I am guilty—of what they accuse me of and of things they don’t even know about. If they get one piece of incriminating evidence, I’m done. I can’t take that risk.”
Tears gather at my chin, which is how I realize I’m crying.
Fuck, my makeup … I don’t know what to say to make him change his mind.
He seems so sure of it, I doubt I even can.
So I say the next best thing I can think of, hoping it’ll shake him out of it.
“What of us, Lex? Aren’t you willing to fight for us?
Are you expecting me to wait for you for ten years? ”
“No.”
The gravity of his tone and the terrible meaning behind the single syllable make my knees so weak that I grab the back of a chair to keep my balance.
He didn’t even hesitate. My attempt at emotional manipulation not only failed, it also proved he already thought it through, already calculated and accepted the end of us.
“What do you mean?” I ask, hoping this is a misunderstanding.
“Because my fate is sealed for the next ten years, it doesn’t mean yours has to be. I don’t have a choice, but you do. When I’m away, I want you to live your life, to move on with someone who truly deserves you.”
His detached words knock the air out of my lungs as efficiently as if he’d punched me in the chest. So, after everything, this is it?
This is the way we end?
Anger isn’t the emotion I expected to take over, but I can’t control it. “You won’t fight for us?” I accuse, glaring at him.
“I understand you feel betrayed, but trust me, Andrea, this is the best solution. You’ll see it with time.” He’s being pragmatic, controlled. He’s all brain and no heart right now, like his walls went all the way up again.
“I don’t think I ever will, Lex. You’re giving up on us. You’re not even trying to fight. I thought you loved me? I thought you’d do anything for me?” I’m fucking shameless, ready to do or say anything it takes to change his mind.
Ten years is too much. Lex can’t spend that long imprisoned—especially when the alternative might be no time at all.
He takes two steps toward me, his expression firm and authoritative. “I’m not dragging you through hell with me.”
“I’ll be in hell, regardless! But if I have a choice, I’d rather be in it with you.”
“And it’s killing me!” he roars, his control breaking at last. “I’d do anything to protect you, and there you are, ready to dive headfirst into this. I won’t let it happen.”
“Try stopping me, you asshole.”
He blows air through his nose, so angry at me that I see the man he was when we first met—before we fell in love. “You’re infuriating,” he mutters.
“Pot, meet kettle.”
We stare at one another, my frown deep, his nostrils flaring.
“I’m doing this for you,” he frustratedly explains.
“I’m doing this so you don’t commit perjury when they ask you to testify—because I know you will.
I’m doing this because when I take the deal, it all ends.
You won’t be put on the stand, won’t lie for me, won’t be dragged any further into this shit show. ”
“So, you’re making my own decisions for me again? Taking my choice away? Haven’t you learned anything, Alexander?”
“It’s also my decision to make. My life is on the line. I’m in charge of this.”
“And I can accept that. But don’t you dare pretend this is for me! Don’t you know by now that I would do anything for you?”
The reminder seems to get the best of his temper, and the harshness in his eyes softens, transforming into a plea instead. “You will move on eventually,” he explains calmly, “and I will become a thing of the past, a distant memory. That’s when you’ll see what I’m doing is the right thing.”
“I’ll never get over you. Could you get over me?”