CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Causa Occulta
Are you guys nervous? I wish I were taking care of our husband right now! H.T. I envy you! (@deisebloombastic)
Since I walked out of the studio and left Dante behind, we haven’t spoken. Célie took over the necessary legwork on the case, especially anything that involved contact with Dante.
“Hi. I thought you’d be home by now.” Célie walked into the room. She was there. And whenever she saw him, she had that look—like someone trying to act normal after letting out a thunderous fart. You know? “You can go rest. I’ll take care of these papers.”
She pointed to the records of conversations with Dante. Célie transcribed the conversations so we could make adjustments.
“It’s fine, Célie.” I took the sheet and reread some of his answers. “Looks good.”
“We’re ready to answer the main questions.”
“Good.” I handed the sheet back to her.
“But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you really ready to do this?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “Nothing in our classes, internships, or TA work prepared us to deal with our own feelings about a case. At least not this deeply.”
“How did you get yourself into this mess?” Célie grumbled. She was exhausted too, and probably terrified at the thought of having her name dragged into the biggest legal scandal in years.
“I don’t know. I think I’ll blame Jim.” I laughed halfheartedly. “Célie… I promise you, whatever happens, I’ll protect you and save Torres&Fields. At least 50% of it.”
“And you?” Célie held my hand. “Who’s going to save you?”
My phone rang and my father’s name appeared on the screen.
“This isn’t a good sign.” Célie stood up. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
I took a deep breath and swiped the screen.
“Helena.” My father’s voice was heavy on the phone. It had been weeks since we’d spoken. The last weekend I was at their house, my father left as soon as I arrived. My mother was furious. I heard her call him and make him come back.
We ate dinner in dead silence.
“Is Mom okay?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
“How’s work?” my father asked, his tone strange.
I settled into my chair.
“Fine. I’m at the office.”
“Good.”
“Why did you call, Dad?”
“I think we should talk in person.”
“Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“It will be,” he said, as mysterious as he was irritating.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’m at your place.”
My chest went cold. I had no idea what my father wanted, but I knew it was big—and probably messy—or he wouldn’t have come to my place. That wasn’t his style.
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
The drive home felt endless. When I parked, I saw my father sitting in his BYD. I got out and walked over, expecting him to get out too, but he motioned for me to get in.
“Dad, you’re being really weird.”
I got in and buckled up. My father pulled away, heading toward the main highway.
“How’s the case going?” he asked without even looking at me.
“I already told you, it’s fine.”
“Are you going to keep leading the defense?”
His question set off every alarm in my head, and I shrank back in my seat.
“Why are you asking?”
My father finally looked at me.
“Will said Dr. Fields is the one running it.” His words were straightforward enough, but they didn’t match his attitude.
“I keep forgetting the prosecutor is your loyal sidekick,” I grumbled.
“Stop acting like a child,” he snapped.
“I am working on the case. We just split up the work like any good team would.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Hmm.”
He wasn’t telling me everything.
“Okay. I was trying to act like a normal daughter out for a drive with her dad, but I know that’s not what this is. So just ask what you want to know and take me home.”
“You went up against everyone for this case. And now you're just backing down?”
“Did Will ask you to question me?”
“It's your father who's asking.”
“My father hasn't been the least bit interested in my work for the past few months.”
My father stopped the car suddenly, forcing me to brace myself against the dashboard.
“Damn it, Lee. I'm trying to help you.”
“I'm not asking for your help.”
“Quinn has a theory,” he finally said. “He thinks your client might be using you.”
“What?”
“Quinn found out that you two spent some time together… when he was being booked.”
“So what? I was just helping him deal with those idiot cops. They were tearing him apart,” I lied.
“Will has sources claiming that Dante Marino was obsessed with the idea of having you as his lawyer.”
“Dad, that's weak grounds to throw out the case.” I noticed from his expression that I was looking at it from the wrong angle. “But he doesn't want to throw out the case, does he? It's me. He wants to turn the tables and use me to destabilize Dante.”
“You know… this case is important to him. For his public career.”
“Of course I know. He'd do anything to satisfy the inflated egos of the rich in this city. Including his own.” I stared at my father. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I trained him and I know he's good. And if he thinks he might have something—”
“He doesn't.”
“I know, but in case he—”
“HE DOESN'T,” I repeated more sharply. “The only thing he'll accomplish with this game is giving me the chance to prove to him, and to you, that I'm not in this job for fun.”
“You don't need to prove anything to me.”
“I know,” I said with a hollow smile. “Not for your sake. But because I know I'm good at my job, and because Quinn may have had the great mentor I dreamed of my whole life, but I learned on my own—and that makes me a damn good lawyer.”
I turned back to face the street.
“Now if you could take me home, I have a trial to prepare for.” I crossed my arms and kept my gaze fixed ahead, even though I could feel my father staring at me.
He made a U-turn and drove in silence to my house. As soon as he stopped, I got out of the car.
“Lee.”
I turned to face him.
“Be careful not to let your heart cloud your judgment.”
“I appreciate your concern for me, but it came too late. As always.”
My father watched me until I went inside, but I didn't look back. I didn't face him because I wasn't ready to see disappointment staring back at me again.
The next morning I arrived at the office early.
Célie and Joseph had gone to the courthouse, and I had the morning almost to myself.
I organized some of our old cases that were on Célie's desk in a futile attempt to make up for her handling everything I couldn't. And even more so, for not judging me—at least not as much as I was judging myself.
A knock at the door pulled me away from organizing. When I opened it, the mail carrier had a stack of correspondence for us. I took it and tipped him.
I set the envelopes on my desk and went back to work on the mess.
“Célie's going to hate my organizational system.”
After finishing, I sat at my desk to separate the bills for payment. Moving the envelopes around, I noticed that one of them wasn't part of the expenses. It was thicker and had the same embossed symbol that was on the Marino payment orders.
I took a deep breath, and as I opened it, my nostrils were flooded with the same scent that had been haunting my sheets. The woody aroma that had seeped into my clothes and my skin.
A folded paper slipped from the envelope, but the metallic clink against the wooden desk captured my attention. It was the necklace. The black rose that had somehow bound my life to Dante's.
I unfolded the paper. His handwriting was the same as in the other letters, but more anxious, more disorganized—as if there were more words than would fit on the page.
Helena.
You know what the problem with time is? It's so volatile it seems immoral.
We never know exactly how much time we have left, but we know it seems to pass much faster when we need it most. At the same time, it drags cruelly when it keeps us from what we long for most.
When you walked into that interrogation room and looked deep into my eyes, I thought I was brave enough to simply look back at you, tell you everything you needed to know, and hope you'd do your job—and maybe still want me too.
But the truth is, right then and there, I condemned myself to cowardice. I couldn't let you go, but I also couldn't break my promise to make you stay.
You didn’t touch the river, Helena. The river ran backward just to touch you.
You’re right that I used you, but not the way you think.
I used you because being with you made me feel like the luckiest bastard in the world.
Because before I met you, there were so many voices in my head, and now they all seem to fall silent just to hear you.
Because kissing you is the closest my body can get to heaven and still come back.
Because I never knew what peace was until you laid your head on my chest. Even knowing the silence was just the calm before the storm that would strike us.
Because no matter how many walls rose between us, physical or not, being in love with you set me free.
And these are the crimes I will never regret.
Because loving you will never be a mistake, Helena.
I couldn’t stop time before. And I can’t speed it up now. But if there were a chance to rewrite it, I would—to save you from me.
P.S.: This rose is yours. It always was. It always will be.