42. Chapter 42 #3
“This floor is equipped with different-sized rooms, the biggest of which is located at the end of the hall and can hold a family of four. There are two rooms on the other side with bunk beds for single guests,” he states and shows me what he just explained, along with the communal bathroom.
“I had the builders assign an individual key for each room so the people staying here would feel safe even from the other people living here i.e. females who might be uncomfortable with males etc,” he explains as I follow him to the small box with a red button that’s only high enough for an adult to reach, located next to the door, something I noticed in the other bedroom too.
“This box is equipped with a panic button that alerts staff on every floor if someone is in danger, along with others hidden next to each bed, and there’s a phone that directly links to the reception and the office upstairs,” he adds, using his lawyer tone as he speeds walks me through everything, we then exit the bed bunks room coming back into the hall.
“This floor is designated for women and children, and the one below for men with children. Although the family room on both floors can be used for unisex couples or same sex couples, however you want to do it. We can always try to expand; it would just depend on how many people we get staying here regularly.” Then he turns to us, and we wait while he calls the lift.
“W-who would be staying here?” I ask, letting that be the first thing I’ve said since earlier. I watch his hunky shoulders shrug as he smiles down at me.
“Anyone you wanted, it would be solely for families who come to town, or it could be family or people who are homeless, or I personally would donate it more towards women or families seeking shelter from domestic homes or in need of a place to sleep for the night. It would be better than trying to get into a local shelter, and at least this way they wouldn’t lose their place like they do in places like that, if you’re willing to let them stay until they can find something more permanent,” he suggests, stealing glances at me now and again until the lift arrives.
He steps in, with me just behind him.
“Do you remember when I told you that I offer pro bono services in my spare time?” Oliver asks after a few seconds alone in the lift.
I nod, waiting for him to continue, but the lift opens on the next floor, revealing a similar layout to where Oliver works.
With a set of glass doors that lead us to another reception desk, and cubicles located on each side of the room.
We step inside and walk past the reception desk and down the hall, passing three meeting rooms, all of a similar size.
Coming up to the end of the hall, I strayed to take a peek at the comfy-looking break room, though I’m not sure what kind of office this was.
But I don’t have enough time to look around as Oliver is waiting for me with his hands in his pockets.
He waits for me to catch up and leads me to the end of the hall, opening the door for me, revealing an office a similar size to the one he has at Kaine we gaze at each other for a beat, then Oliver takes a deep breath.
“Not long after Theo came to live with me, a woman showed up at my door. She had been trying to contact me for over a week, but I was a very different man back then, worse than I was before you and I met,” he chuckles when I scrunch my nose in disbelief.
Worse?
How was that even possible?
I didn’t know what Oliver was like before Theo in the picture, and my interpretation of him was born from his surly demeanour I’d learned about through Macy, so maybe I could believe it to be possible.
Trying to hide my smile at the reminder of our assigned nickname for him, I stay quiet and let him continue.
“You may not believe it, but if you want proof, the next time she’s in town, I’ll arrange for you two to meet.” he pauses to smirk.
“Anyway, she showed up with her son, who is a similar age to Theo. She had apparently been waiting outside our house for the whole day and risked losing her spot in the local shelter for a chance to find legal aid,” he recites, rubbing his chin, reliving that day.
My heart doesn’t miss the way he said ‘our house’, but I put it aside for now.
“Despite every bone telling me not to, I went against my gut, I invited her in, and while her son slept in your room, she apologised for stalking me and explained that she needed my help. Even though I had only heard through the grapevine about similar cases to hers before, the only knowledge I knew about domestic abuse cases was from Law School.”
“Her now ex-husband was not only abusing her physically and mentally, but he had tricked her out of her fortune. Kicked her and his son out, leaving them homeless,” he explains, rising from his seat to walk over to the desk.
“To this day, I’m not sure what it was that made me agree to take on her case.
I had never taken any pro bono case before, especially after being harassed in similar ways in the past. Whether it was my ‘mother issues’ or not knowing my birth father, I wanted to help her, so I took on her case.
I allowed her to live with me while Nigel and I studied every book, article, TED talk and law we could about domestic violence.
Anything that would help give us the upper hand to win her case.
” he pauses, pulling something out of the drawer.
I can’t see what he tucks behind his back, and he walks back over to me.
“There were obvious setbacks; I was out of my element, but after looking that smug son of bitch in the eye, I told myself I wouldn’t lose this case - no matter what.
Though it was really hard to live with a brother who wouldn’t let me in and a woman and child I barely knew,” he continues, tucking what he took from the drawer behind his back as he sat down again.
“I worked hard, I compromised, and I even worked with people I couldn’t stand because I knew it was the only way to win the case,” he points out, offering me a small smile.
“Which we did. Sandy earned back every penny, while making sure to sue her ex-husband for everything he had, and I’m very proud to say the bastard is rotting the rest of his life away in prison, where he belongs. ”
This time, I smile at him.
“The reason I’m finally telling you this story is that I finally understand the parallel of letting you into my life.
From the moment the jury declared that fucker guilty, I learned two things.
First, I was done sitting on the sidelines, and I wanted to continue helping women like Sandy.
Women who needed help getting back what was theirs, as my respect for your species runs as deep, along with the respect I have for my own mother, who, despite her many mistakes, has never stopped striving for what she deserves.
” Oliver’s shoulder stiffen, though I do sense much less tension at the mention of his mother.
There was no longer that lingering gaze of resentment in his eyes. I give him a second to gather his words, scooting closer to him, aiming to rest my hand on his knee, but he grabs it, giving it a gentle squeeze.