41. Reid
Reid
As a lawyer, nothing is as distracting as a good case. A case that I know I can win without batting an eye. A case where the opposing party is unprepared and also entirely in the wrong. And this is not just my opinion. The stats are more than there.
One, my client is a cheater. That detail alone will almost always be a landslide in a courtroom.
Unless there was abuse involved (there wasn’t) or neglect of some type (also no), infidelity is the fastest track to losing everything you want in a courtroom.
And lucky for me, my client has been done dirty.
Speaking of that, I haven’t heard from Quinn.
I’m kind of surprised, if I’m being honest. I sort of expected her to blow my phone up after I walked out of the coffee shop that day.
Or at the very least, send a text asking if we could talk again.
If I’m being perfectly honest, the lack of attempts to make amends is a little upsetting.
But I guess that just means I was right about her.
Still, I’m not a complete monster. And I do feel kind of bad that all of the funding I was providing has been withdrawn.
Other people‘s marriages are not my affair, no pun intended. Actually, if you think about it, literally, people’s divorces are my affair.
Which are the complete opposites. And yet I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel some guilt about pulling the plug on the money flow.
I know just how detrimental consistent funding is to a nonprofit.
Especially with all the stunts the government seems to be making.
Still, I have to remind myself that it’s not my problem. It’s not my problem because I am done with all of that. Hands washed, dried, and out the door.
Speaking of doors, there is a sudden knock on mine and a moment later, my secretary walks in.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Remington,” she says softly. “But there are some clients here to see you. Or, uh, old clients, I suppose.”
Old clients…
Considering the number of cases that I haven’t lost, I’m not too worried about what old clients might want from me.
Still, the distraction isn’t exactly welcome.
Like I said, nothing is better than an infidelity case to keep my hands and my mind busy.
It helps enough that I can forget about other things my mind could be on. Not to mention my hands…
“Send them in,” I tell her, and she nods before turning around and opening the door.
But when the Overholts walk in, I regret my decision almost immediately.
“Sorry to bother you,” Michael says, though nothing in his tone implies that he is regretful whatsoever. He is, dare I say, chipper if nothing else, and it only furthers my regret. “Ashley and I were just hoping that we could have a word with you.”
“Well, considering both of you are here at the same time, I doubt that it means you have reconsidered the divorce, but I suppose I can spare five minutes.”
They both laugh, despite the fact that I wasn’t really trying to make a joke. I’m actually not in the mood to joke at all right now. Especially not with these two.
“We don’t want to take up much of your time,” Ashley says as they take a seat in front of me.
Good.
“But we just wanted to thank you,” she says, and my eyes slice up to meet her.
“Thank me?” I ask. Because honestly, what the fuck?
“Yes,” Michael says, taking his wife’s hand. “For suggesting that we go to therapy.”
My lips slant downward. “You do know that I only recommended it as a means to an end, right?”
“Yes,” they both nod. “And even if this wasn’t your projected outcome,” Michael goes on. “We are still grateful. Because at the end of the day, you saved our marriage.”
Fuck my life.
I pinch my lips together with a curt nod. “That’s…great,” I lie. “I’m happy for you.” Also, a lie. Also, my secretary has been fired.
Not really. But what the hell.
“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Michael asks, and I swear I don’t even know this man.
Not that long ago he was dressed to the nines, in my office on a rage-fueled mission.
And now he’s a puddle of smiles and feelings and multiple other things that have me wanting to throw up in my mouth a little.
“Almost like fate, if you think about it.”
I don’t want to think about it. And I definitely don’t want to ask what he means by that. But I’m under the impression that if I don’t let them say what they came here to say, I’m not going to be able to make them leave without being very, very rude.
“What’s ironic?” I ask through nearly gritted teeth.
“You don’t believe in love,” he says. “You making a living ruining people’s marriages all because of how much you don’t believe in it. And yet, you saved ours.”
“You’re the entire reason we are together,” Ashley agrees, and my stomach sours.
Though it’s not entirely because all this mushy shit is getting under my skin.
But because it’s making me think about everything else that’s happened in the last couple of months.
It’s making me think about her. And that is enough to shove my heart up into my throat. A place it has no business being.
“That’s…” I nod, but no more words come out to finish that statement. I am, I hate to say it, speechless. And that is a first.
“Are you alright?” Ashley asks.
“Yeah, you look a little green around the gills,” Michael says.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I nod, swallowing the bile that has apparently formed in my throat. “Just not feeling great today,” I say, and it’s not a lie.
“Well, we will leave you to your work,” Michael says. “We just wanted to stop in and say thank you.”
“Yes,” Ashley nods as they stand. “Thank you.”
Both of them insist on shaking my hand, and I swear it’s the most awkward meeting I have ever had in my life. So much so that I find myself needing to get the hell out of the office.
When I leave, I take a deep breath. And yet, even when I am in my car, driving away from the building, I still can’t seem to fill my lungs. Everything around me feels tight and suffocating, and I yank at my tie to loosen it.
But no matter how I try to refocus, I just keep hearing their words in my head.
“You saved our marriage…”
It’s not that I am against their marriage working out.
Not anymore, anyways. More power to them.
It’s the idea that something I said or did brought two people together.
It’s the idea that dropping walls and loosening fists and giving someone the benefit of the doubt could lead to love.
It’s almost too much for me to think about.
And yet, I feel like I need someone to talk to about it.
So I do something crazy.
* * *
“I’ll be right with you,” Allegra says from inside her office after she hears the front door chime.
Her practice is exactly what I was expecting–a small house turned into an office.
There’s even a cute front porch. The front room is set up as a waiting room; there’s a marked bathroom, and the bedrooms are all labeled for three different therapists.
Hers is at the forefront, probably because it’s her practice.
It’s homey, warm, inviting, and very Allegra.
“Sorry about that, I was just…” she stops and her smile falters slightly as she comes out of her office and looks at me. “Oh. Reid. Or…is it August?” she asks.
“My friends call me Reid. It’s up to you,” I tell her, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Reid it is then,” she says with all the warmth of a therapist and none of the resentment of a woman whose best friend I’ve scorned. “You want to come in?” she asks.
“In…your office?” I ask.
“Or we can sit out here. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” she smiles. Honestly, I’m not comfortable with any of this. And yet…I’m here.
“Your office is fine,” I answer, not wanting to make it weird. Although I am pretty sure I have more than accomplished that already.
“Sorry,” I say as I take a seat in a chair that, based on positioning, is usually the chair she sits in.
I don’t know why, but I don’t want to sit on the couch.
Where patients sit. Allegra doesn’t seem to mind and sits in the middle of the couch, crossing her legs and tilting her head.
Then she waits. “I don’t know why I’m here,” I say.
“That’s alright,” she says. “Is anything directly wrong? Anyone hurt or in danger?”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” I tell her.
“That’s good,” she says.
And it is. Except that it means I am going to have to come up with another reason for sitting here.
“The Overholt’s came back into my office today,” I blurt out.
“Those are the clients you shared with Quinn?” she asks, and I half expect her to start writing this down. But she doesn’t. She’s treating this like a normal conversation. I think that makes it easier somehow.
“Yes,” I answer, and my throat is suddenly feeling like the Sahara. On cue, she reaches into a small fridge and pulls out a water bottle and hands it to me. “Thanks,” I tell her, taking a sip.
“And how are they doing?” She asks after a moment.
“Good,” I breathe out. “Great, really. They…they came into my office today to thank me. For saving their marriage.”
“Wow,” she says with an impressed smile.
“Yeah. Wow,” I echo.
“I bet you weren’t expecting that,”
“No,” I shake my head. Then my eyes flash up to hers. “I’m sure you know this, but I’m not exactly known for saving marriages.”
“There’s talk that implies otherwise,” she chuckles.
“But despite what people think, I don’t get off on watching people’s marriages fail.
People rush into marriage. They make mistakes, both with their hearts and their finances, among other things.
People are rash all because of some notion that they can live happily ever after, and when things come crashing down, it causes a lot of pain.
And a mess. I help people clean that mess up. ”
“That’s no easy task,” she tells me.
“No, it’s not,” I say, easing back into the couch. “Marriage has the potential to destroy people.”
“As does anything that requires the whole of the human heart,” she says. “You sound very passionate about what you do.”
“I am,” I agree. Then I look at her again, studying her. She’s not an easy person to read. But I don’t think it’s because she’s hiding anything. I think it’s the opposite. She has nothing to hide. She is very resolved in what she thinks and feels.
It’s refreshing.
“I don’t know what to think,” I tell her. “About what happened with Quinn. I doubt I need to recap our conversation at the coffee shop.”
“Only if you want to,” she offers. “But I know the details. If you want to keep this short.”
“Yeah,” I nod, scratching my chin. “It all just came as a surprise to me, you know? Finding out that Ashley Overholt was her client. Realizing that Grant Bowen is Quinn’s father.
It lined up, you know? Like a big kick in the teeth.
Except…” I trail off, but she doesn’t press.
She waits. “Except that…it doesn’t line up. ”
“And why is that?” she asks, even though we both know the answer.
“Because it’s not who she is,” I say, and Allegra smiles and nods.
“No. It really isn’t,” she says. “Quinn is all heart. And while that doesn’t mean she can’t be spicy,” she says, and I snort.
“She doesn’t have a conniving bone in her body.
I say that as a therapist and her best friend.
But I also understand where you are coming from.
How that information was blinding. And I know too that after being hurt by someone, it’s very easy to jump to conclusions about new people.
Especially when your heart is fully involved. ”
“My ex,” I start in, and while I can’t believe I am going here, for the first time maybe ever, I actually feel like it’s okay to go here. “Was very good at pulling one over on me.” I click my tongue before going on. “Have you ever watched the movie (500) Days of Summer?”
“I have,” she smiles.
“Lauren loved that movie. But unlike everyone else, she sided with Summer. Most people think Tom was in the right. That he was in love and she led him on and all that. But Lauren always defended her. She said that all the signs were there that the relationship wasn’t right for Summer, but no one, especially Tom, could see that. ”
“Do you think Lauren was trying to tell you something?” Allegra asks, and the question feels like a cannonball to the chest. Because I never really thought about that before.
“Maybe…” I answer hollowly. “Maybe she wasn’t trying to break my heart. It just wasn’t right for her and I…couldn’t see that.”
I think about that for a long, painful moment. And then I look up at her again.
“Does that mean the breakup was my fault?” I ask.
“No,” Allegra shakes her head. “Honestly, a good number of breakups are nobody’s fault. The couple just wasn’t right for each other. That doesn’t always lessen the pain, though.”
No, it does not.
But more than I feel pain for my past, I feel an even harder ache for now. For what happened with Quinn.
“Do you think I’ve lost her?” I ask, and I know Allegra knows I mean Quinn.
“Friend, not therapist?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“I think you broke her heart, Reid,” she says, and that’s cannonball number two. “I think she was in love with you and is in love with you and is devastated by your accusations.”
“Yeah,” I say again.
“But I also think there’s hope,” she adds, and my eyes flash up to hers.
“How do you figure?” I ask.
She waits. Then her tongue clicks, and I think we are transitioning back into therapist mode. “Why did things work out with the Overholt’s?”
“Because they went to therapy,” I state.
“No. Therapy was a tool. But in the end, what really made it work?” she asks.
“They both wanted it,” I say, and she nods slowly.
“Exactly. Friend to friend, off the record, she still loves you. She still wants you. And that you’re here tells me you feel the same.”
“So there’s hope,” I state, standing up.
“Well, hang on there, cowboy,” Allegra holds up a hand.
“Sit back down,” she says, and I do. “Just because you both still want each other doesn’t change the damage done.
I think that if you put in effort, go to her humbly and talk to her, things could work out.
But I also think that the gesture you make is going to have to be pretty grand.
And honestly, as her friend, I am going to tell you it damn well better be. She deserves it.”
“I know,” I nod. “She deserves the world.”
“She does,” Allegra agrees, and I stand up again. This time she does, too. Then she offers one last warm smile. “You’re still invited to the renewal,” she says.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “But I’m not so sure Quinn would appreciate that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” she shrugs. “Guess it depends on just how grand that gesture is…”
And with that, the wheels in my head start to turn.
I don’t think I need to convince Quinn that I am wrong. She’s well aware, if I had to guess. But I need to convince her that I know I was wrong. And that will be no small feat.