Текст книги "Reasonable Doubt. Vol. 3"

Автор книги: Whitney Gracia Williams

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She sucked in a breath as I slid my thumb underneath her panties.

“I’ll stop asking questions,” she said. “I’ll watch the play…”

As she turned her face toward the stage, I moved out of my seat and kneeled in front of her.

“Andrew?” She whispered harshly as I spread her thighs apart. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you enjoy the show.”

I didn’t give her a chance to respond. I quickly ripped off her panties, and buried my head in between her legs, running my tongue against her bare pussy—enjoying a taste I’d missed for months. I sucked her clit between my lips, shutting my eyes as it swelled in my mouth.

“Andrew….” She moaned as she squeezed her legs around my neck, grabbing onto my hair and begging me to slow down.

I couldn’t. She tasted too fucking good.

I forced my tongue deeper inside of her, claiming every part, marking what was mine.

Her hips began to rise off the seat, and I pushed them down—punishing her with stronger strokes, slipping my fingers inside of her and commanding her to stay still.

“I can’t…” She thrust her hips up again. “I can’t…”

A loud applause arose from the theater below us, echoing off the walls as the first scene ended.

I sucked her clit harder, darting my tongue against it repeatedly until she couldn’t help but scream my name across the theater.

Shaking, she grabbed my shoulders, gripping me harder than ever as she came into my mouth.

I held her thighs as she continued to shake, as tremor after tremor ran through her body.

As she came back down, I caressed her legs and kissed the inside of her thighs.

Grabbing her ripped panties off the floor, I wiped her clean. Then I stuffed them into my pocket before taking my seat again.

“Is something wrong sir?” An usher stepped into our balcony. “I heard a disturbance.”

“A disturbance?” I looked at Aubrey then back at him. “No, I don’t think there was one here.”

“Are you sure?” he asked concerned. “What about you, Miss? Are you okay?”

“Yes sir.” Aubrey nodded, attempting to look as normal as possible. “I’m more than fine.”

He walked away, and within seconds, she seemingly transformed into the Aubrey I remembered from months ago, the one that was incapable of not asking questions.

Not that I minded, though.

By the first intermission she’d asked all that was possible about the play and leaned against me, whispering, “This is perfect, Andrew…Thank you.” And then she didn’t speak again until the show ended two hours later.

“The lead was amazing,” she said as the curtains closed. “I really felt all of his emotions in that last scene…”

“Me too.” I helped her into her coat. “Do you have a curfew? Any time that I need to get you back home?”

“I’m twenty two years old.”

“I’m well aware.” I rolled my eyes. “I found that out the hard way, thank you. I meant, do you have a few more hours to spend with me or do you have to get up early?”

“Not until the afternoon…”

“Good.” I led her out of the theater and signaled to the town-car driver across the street. “I want to take you somewhere else. Can I?”

“I would love that…”

I helped her into the town car and after I slid inside, she moved into my lap—pressing her lips against mine, whispering thanks once again.

Holding her close, I gave her a brief tour of my past as we drove through the city—grateful that the driver avoided driving by my former firm.

I showed her my favorite restaurants, my favorite places to relax, and a few places I would like to take her to before I left.

“We’ve arrived at the Waldorf Astoria, Mr. Hamilton.” The driver looked at us through the rearview mirror. “Will this be the final stop for the night?”

“Yes,” I said, noticing Aubrey narrowing her eyes at me.

“I thought you said—”

“Relax…” I kissed her forehead. “This is where I’ve been living since I flew here.”

“Oh…”

I took her hand and walked her through the lobby and onto the elevator that led to the roof.

Opening the doors, I noticed everything was set up exactly as I asked: A lone white clothed table sat in front of a dancing fire, soft lights hung in waves across the trellis, and through the falling snow, the words “I’m sorry” twinkled against the building directly across from us.

“This is so beautiful, Andrew…” she said, looking around. “When did you change your mind about dinner?”

“I didn’t.” I pulled out her chair and uncovered the platter of chocolate and vanilla covered strawberries. “It’s dessert.”

“Did you think of all this yourself?”

“I did.” I sat next to her and put my arms around her shoulders.

“You know,” she said, “typically on a date the two people sit across from each other.”

“Did you miss the memo about me making sure that I wouldn’t treat you like any other date?”

“Not at all.” Her mouth was on mine within seconds and my hands found their way into her hair.

Pulling her forward, I bit her lips and looked into her eyes.

She was silently telling me to take things further, rubbing her hand against my cock.

“Stop touching me, Aubrey,” I whispered, warning her. “I’m not going to be able to be a gentleman anymore if you don’t stop…” I stood up and walked to the door, giving myself some space. “I’m trying to prove to you that I can get through a date without fucking you…”

She followed me, smiling. “I’m pretty sure you already failed at that…” She threaded her fingers through my hair and hastily unbuttoned my shirt.

I wedged my knee between her legs and slid a hand across her thighs, sighing as I felt how wet she was.

“Aubrey…” I groaned as she reached into my pocket and pulled out a condom. “I can wait…”

“I can’t.” She freed my cock from my pants and rolled the condom onto me without letting my lips go.

I secured my arms around her waist and lifting her up, carrying her over to the rooftop’s railing. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your pussy.” I kissed her lips. “And your mouth.”

“Is that all you miss?” Her hands went around my neck.

“If it was, then we wouldn’t be here right now.” I slowly slid inside of her, filling her inch by inch, staring into her eyes as I remembered just how good she fucking felt.

Without saying another word, I slid my hands down to her sides and moved her up and down—groaning as her pussy gripped me tighter and tighter with every stroke.

Her lips found their way to mine, and neither of us let go—grinding into each other as a second light snow fell over us.

Her nails dug into my back as she came close to coming, her teeth trapped my bottom lip to prevent herself from screaming out.

“Don’t let go yet, Aubrey…” My cock was throbbing inside of her. “Wait…”

She shook her head, fighting it, but she held on for a few more seconds—looking into my eyes.

“I missed you so much,” I whispered. “So fucking much…”

Falling forward into my chest, she came with me—biting my skin as her legs went limp around my waist.

Both of us were breathing heavily, staring at each other as we once did months ago, and we remained entwined.

I kissed her lips, repeating how much I missed her, and she smiled—softly telling me to pull out of her.

“Would you like to stay the night?” I asked, picking up my jacket and holding it out for her. “You can tell me more about that case you’re so intrigued with lately.”

“The Henderson & Hart one?” she asked. “You really haven’t heard anything about it?”

“No, but if you spend the night we can google it together.”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was suddenly flat. “I need to go.” She adjusted her dress and walked over to the table, picking up her purse. ‘

“Is something wrong?”

She didn’t answer. She pulled out her phone to check the time and sighed.

“Aubrey, what are you doing?”

“Forcing myself to see that you’re still the same and you’ll never change.” She looked hurt. “Your idea of the truth is, and will always be, duplicitous. That’s all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Thank you for a wonderful night…I’ll always remember this and cherish it, just so you know.”

“I’m really starting to wonder if you are, indeed, bipolar…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that your name was Liam Henderson tonight?” She shook her head, and I inhaled a sharp breath.

“I gave you every opportunity to,” she said, looking hurt. “I practically begged you to tell me, but you opened up about everything except for that.”

I hesitated. “I was going to tell you everything later tonight, in bed.”

“Sure you were.” She scoffed. “Is there any reason why you didn’t even tell me this when I said you were once my favorite lawyer in my interview?”

“Once?”

She nodded. “Yes. Once. The essays I used to read by Liam all stressed complete and utter honesty. I guess that all changed once he became Andrew.”

“Aubrey, don’t…” I stepped forward and she took a step back. “I was honestly going to ask you to come to the final hearing.”

“Can I use your town car to get home or do I need to call a cab?”

“Stop this. Now.”

“Cab it is.” She shrugged. “I wish you the best of luck with your testimony. And I hope you treat the next girl you find nicely from the beginning so she won’t have to love and leave you alone in the end.”

“Give me a chance to talk, Aubrey…”

“We have nothing more to discuss.” She opened the door. “ Pleasedo not follow me, Andrew. You can’t trust me and I can’t trust you, so I don’t want anything to do with this anymore and I need you to finally respect that.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she spoke first.

“Goodbye Andrew, Liam,” she said, “whatever the hell your name is.”

“Aubrey…”

The door slammed shut and I knew it was pointless to go after her in that moment.

She was gone.

Swear (v.):

To declare under oath that one will tell the truth.

Andrew

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?” The judge said to me a few mornings later.

I said nothing, the sudden departure of Aubrey still fresh on my mind.

“Mr. Hamilton, I asked you a question.” The judge chided.

“I apologize,” I said. “I do swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God.”

“We may proceed.”

The defense lawyer stood up and cleared his throat. “Mr. Hamilton, your legal name was formerly Liam Henderson, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Could you please tell the court how you know my client, Kevin Hart?”

“We were once partners at Henderson & Hart.”

“Partners andbest friends, correct?”

I looked over at an expressionless Kevin. He was dressed in a grey suit, still incapable of wearing a matching tie.

“Yes,” I said to the lawyer. “Once upon a time.”

“Is it true that you got into an altercation with him at a bar six and a half years ago?”

“Define altercation.”

He picked up a sheet of paper. “Did you walk into a bar and punch him? Leaving him with a broken jaw and a fractured ribcage?”

“He was fucking my wife.”

The jurors gasped and the judge banged his gavel.

“ Mr. Hamilton…” The judge spoke sternly. “That type of language is not allowed in my courtroom. Please answer the question.”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I did injure Mr. Hart… Severely.”

“Similarly to how you injured your own wife?”

“ Objection!” The prosecutor stood up. “Relevance, Your Honor?”

“Sustained.”

“Fine.” The defense lawyer held up his hands in surrender. “Is it true that you blame Mr. Hart for the downfall of your former firm?”

“Clearly the Department of Justice does since he’s the one on trial today.”

“ Mr. Hamilton…”

“Yes.” I clenched my jaw. “Yes, I blame him for the demise of our former firm.”

“Is it true that you also blame him for the unfortunate death of your daughter?”

“ Your Honor!” The prosecutor shot me a look of sympathy. “Relevance?”

“Overruled…Answer the question, Mr. Hamilton.”

I looked away from Kevin and balled my fists. “Yes.”

“Your daughter died amidst the weeks leading up to the complete collapse of your firm, and within those weeks you managed to severely beat your partner, batter your wife—”

“I didn’t batter my fucking wife. She made that shit up. Have you done any fucking research?”

The judge banged his gavel, but I continued talking.

“I’m not sure what low level community college was dumb enough to issue you a law degree, but the case between me and my wife was thrown out years ago because she lied about numerous things to a grand jury. And seeing as though she was sent to prison and I was cleared of all charges, you can accept that as a fucking fact. So, before you ask me another bullshit question and try to damage my character, remember that yourclient’s livelihood is at stake during this trial. Not mine.”

The judge let out a deep sigh, but he didn’t say anything further. He just motioned for the defense to continue.

“During your partnership, is it true that your wife was in charge of all the firm’s monetary dealings?”

“Ex-wife. And yes.”

“And you never thought to double check where she was allocating most of the funds?”

“I had a degree in law, not accounting.”

“So, you never thought it was slightly suspicious that your new firm was bringing in seven figures monthly?”

“No.” I sighed, thinking back to those days, those clients. Everyone we dealt with had far more than I would earn in my lifetime and I thought nothing about the monthly profits Ava reported; I trusted her.

“Is it fair to say that the demise of your firm could be due to your wife’s handling of funding?”

I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

“Interesting.” He picked up a sheet of paper and asked the judge if he could approach me. “Could you read this to the court please?”

“I’d rather not,” I said.

“You’d rather not?” He laughed. “Mr. Hamilton, as a lawyer yourself, surely you know that you will be held in contempt for refusing to read requested evidence.”

“Read it, Mr. Hamilton.” The judge demanded.

“You’re a fucking liar, Ava.” I read my old words. “You’ve fucked so many people behind my back that I’ve lost count. As far as I’m concerned, you deserve to rot behind bars. Maybe then your overworked pussy will get a much needed break.”

A juror covered her mouth in shock, but I continued reading.

“Thank you for telling me that my cock was never up to par, that after all those years of marriage you were never satisfied…Since you and Kevin have not only managed to take away my firm, but have also ruined the one thing that made my life worth living, accept this letter as a goodbye.” I looked up at the defense.

“Could you also read what you wrote after the PS?”

I rolled my eyes. “Since you’ll only be around women for the next fifteen years, I suggest you give pussy a try. The taste is quite impeccable.”

“Objection, your honor.” The prosecutor stood up. “I don’t see how this document is relevant to the case. The defense also failed to produce that letter during discovery. I move to strike.”

“Sustained. Consider it stricken.” The judge looked at his watch and then stood up. “Let’s adjourn for lunch. Testimony will continue this afternoon.”

As the jury and the courtroom attendees filed out, I sat still. I had nowhere to go.

“I didn’t know he was going to bring up your daughter. I’m so sorry…” The prosecutor offered me a small smile. “I’ll redirect once he gets done…Your partner is definitely going down, he’s just trying to discredit your character a bit, to make him look a little more sympathetic to the jury.”

“You are aware that I’m a lawyer as well, right?” I stepped off the stand. “I know exactly what he’s trying to do.”

I stepped out of the court and outside into a heavy snowfall, looking up at the sky. I considered leaving the courthouse and risking contempt, but a part of me wanted to help seal the deal on Kevin’s fate.

It’d been a long time coming—all the lies, the betrayal, the pain, and he deserved whatever he was going to get.

Someone tapped my shoulder from behind.

“You got a minute?” A familiar voice asked. Kevin.

“I don’t.”

“I figured…” He sighed. “Whatever happens at the end of this trial—”

“Did you not hear what I said?” I spun around to face him, taken aback by how haggard he looked up close. Time hadn’t been good to him at all.

“I’m sorry for everything me and Ava put you through,” he said with a genuine look in his eyes. “The money and clients were coming in so fast and we were all so young…”

“Young?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Young and dumb, you know? It was—”

“Dumb as fuck.” I clenched my jaw. “But it was more than stupidity, Kevin. It was greed. And when the newspapers started to put the pieces together, when the clients started demanding answers, you both turned on me. You blamed me…You filed for custody of Emma, knowing damn well you didn’t really want her. You just wanted to hurt me since you were her biological father.”

“Liam…”

“And you did.” I could honestly admit that once and for all. “You really fucking did…”

“If I could take it back—”

“You can’t.” I cut him off. “But you can tell me one thing…”

“What is it?”

“The night you ruined my life…Well, not the first night, the night that came months later, were you drinking?”

“What does it matter now?”

“Were you fucking drinking that night?” I glared at him and he sighed, looking down at the ground.

“Yes…”

“Thank you for finally being honest.” I scoffed. “I’ll sleep even easier at night knowing that you’ll be joining Ava behind bars after this week.”

“Ava’s back in prison?” He looked hurt, disappointed.

“Nine more years.” I smiled, but it quickly faded. “Six more than what Emma got.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. My heart was clenching at the thought of losing Emma again, at imagining all the pain she must’ve felt on her last day, so I shut my eyes—trying to block another dark memory from passing by.

Reasonable Doubt (n.):

Not being sure of a criminal defendant's guilt to a moral certainty.

Six years ago…

Liam Henderson

Living in New York never felt ordinary. Every day there was something new to discover, something I’d never seen before.

Even though I was still running on the fumes of winning one of the biggest, yet non-reported cases in the state, I was still trying to find myself—personally and professionally. I was realizing that national popularity would always elude me, but as long as I was under-rated and not over-rated, I was perfectly fine with that.

I dropped a book of essays on my coffee table once I heard a loud knock at the door. It was a familiar loud and annoying one that my best friend Kevin always used.

“You know, you can’t keep coming over in the middle of the—” I stopped talking when I realized it wasn’t Kevin. It was a woman and a man, dressed in grey suits.

“Are you Liam Andrew Henderson?” The woman asked.

“Who’s asking?”

“Are you Liam Andrew Henderson?” The man spoke sternly.

“Depends on who wants to know.”

They both blinked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m Liam Henderson.”

“You’ve been served.” The woman thrust a thick blue envelope into my hand, the tenth time this had happened to me this week.

“Is this some type of joke? Is the New York Timestrying to get a rise out of me again?”

They exchanged glances, confused.

“I was just doing my job,” I said. “If they want to continue their pettiness by refusing to print my picture for the rest of their paper’s life, that’s fine. I’m okay with that, really. But serving me papers as a prank every day for a week and a half—”

“The SEC doesn’t do pranks,” the woman said, before they both walked away.

I shut my door and immediately called Kevin.

“This better be an emergency,” he answered. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Has our firm pissed anyone off lately?”

“Of course we have. Why?”

“I just got served papers by the SEC, again.”

“Have you actually opened any of the other ones?” he asked.

“Two of them,” I walked over to my coffee table and pulled out a drawer. “Something about a client named Ferguson who claims we haven’t been putting his money in escrow? He’s suing us for five million and supposedly contacting our other clients. Do we even have a client named Ferguson?”

“We have three clients named Ferguson.”

“Have we pissed any of them off?”

“Not to my knowledge.” He sounded concerned. “I’m pretty sure they would’ve contacted us first before filing the charges, don’t you think? Are you sure it’s not The New York Timesplaying a mean joke on you? This is like the tenth letter you’ve received.”

“That’s the first thing I asked tonight. They said it’s not them.”

We were both silent for several seconds.

“It’s them.” We laughed in unison.

“Sorry for calling at this hour.” I stuffed the envelope into the drawer with all the others. “I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up.

“Daddy?” Emma walked into the living room, wiping her eyes as she walked over to me. “Can I go play?”

“It’s three in the morning, Emma.” I shook my head. “What do you think?”

“I want to go play…” She smiled, giving me that look that made me incapable of saying no.

I smiled back and kissed her forehead, thinking of where we could possibly go out at this hour. Central Park was out of the question, as was any park, really. There was a twenty four hour donut shop nearby that we could walk to or—

I stopped mid thought. Kevin was having a special playroom built for her at the office, a room that was twice the size of his own. He’d said it would prevent me from using “I have to go check on Emma” as an excuse when we worked on demanding cases.

“I know somewhere we can go.” I picked her up and carried her to her room, helping her into her favorite shoes—a pair of red rain boots she wore every day, even when it wasn’t raining. “Okay, go sit on the couch so I can get dressed and then we’ll go okay?”

She rushed out of her room without saying another word. I really needed to find a way to curb her wake-up-at-three-in-the-morning routine ASAP, but a part of me liked it. It was our special time together.

I put on a sweatshirt and sent my wife a quick email.

Subject: Emma.

Taking Emma out to play. Are you still at the coffee shop?

Love you,

Liam

Subject Re: Emma.

What are you going to say when she asks you for a pony?

(Yes, I’m still here…Tax season is going to be the death of me. Want me to bring you a cup back? Want to try a latte?)

I love you more,

Ava

Subject: Re: Re: Emma

Nothing. I’ll just buy the pony.

(No, thank you. You know I really hate coffee.)

Impossible. I love you more than you’ll ever know,

Liam

“I’m ready! I’m ready!” Emma rushed into my room, knocking over a stack of folders. “I’m ready!”

Laughing, I put my phone in my pocket and attempted to stuff the papers back in order—stopping once I saw my signature. Forged.

Confused, I sifted through the other papers-noticing the same thing.

What is this?

“Let’s go, Daddy!” Emma tugged on my pants.

I tucked the folder underneath my arm and clasped her hand. “Your nap today is going to have to last for at least five hours. Do you know that?”

“I don’t like naps.”

“Of course you don’t…” I walked her out of our apartment and to my car. As usual, Ava had slipped a note underneath the windshield wipers.

Dear Husband,

I love you—so very much, and it pains me to see you, someone with as much money and status as you have, driving a car like this. I know you’re modest, and the most expensive suit you own probably costs eighty dollars, but come on! You have to live, Liam!

I’m taking you car shopping next week and I’m not taking no for an answer,

Ava.

PS—Thank you for the roses you sent me yesterday. I got you something special and placed it on your desk at the office.

I smiled and secured Emma into her car seat, giving in when she requested to listen to her favorite song on repeat while riding to the firm.

The sleek design of the building still took people’s breath away when they saw it for the first time. It was the one thing I spared no expense on when constructing; I made sure the translucent gold panels were state of the art, that the law scale statues were properly erected on marble ledges, and that the stone letters above the entrance—“Henderson & Hart” were polished every week.

And, as a giant “fuck you” to the government for burying my first case, the case that should’ve made me a household name and landed me on billboards all over this country, I had the office built right in front of their Social Security Office.

Pulling into the reserved parking spot, I looked in my rearview mirror—seeing that Emma was fast asleep.

Figures…

I stepped out and carried her inside anyway. I was sure she’d wake up soon.

“Good morning, Mr. Henderson.” An intern greeted me as I walked inside.

“Good morning, Laura,” I responded. “Am I in a different time zone today? Why is everyone awake and working right now?”

She blushed. “It’s tax season.”

“I keep hearing that…” I stepped onto the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”

Emma stirred in my arms, murmuring, but only soft snores followed.

When the elevator doors glided open, I walked through the massive “H&H” glass doors headed to Emma’s half-finished playroom. I gently lowered her onto the massive pink bed and tucked her under the covers, whispering “I love you,” before I dimmed the lights.

I took a seat in the corner and pulled out the folder that was under my arm, reading over what seemed like written receipts and accounts of money exchanges. Things I didn’t recall doing.

I pulled out my phone to text Ava, to see if this was just another elaborate joke—something she was prone to pulling, but I heard her voice.

“Fuck!” She yelled.

I jumped up and headed to where the shouting had come from, pausing once I heard a familiar voice.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good…”

“Ahhhh….” Ava was moaning. “Just fuck me…Fuck me harder…”

I completely froze, unable to take another step. I didn’t want to believe another man—Kevin, from the sound of things, was fucking my wife or that she was cheating on me.

I couldn’t believe it. I trusted her way too much.

But, as she screamed a few more times—the same screams she yelled when having sex with me, I knew it was true.

“Is this how you always conduct business, Mrs. Henderson?” Kevin asked, laughter in his voice.

“Are you seriously going to call me that after we just fucked?” She groaned. “Can we actually get back to work now? That’s the third interruption tonight and I’d actually like to get something done.”

“Fine, fine…”

Papers shuffled, windows opened, but I remained frozen—still in disbelief. It wasn’t until I peered through the slit of the door that my brain actually began to process what was happening.

“What are we going to do about this Ferguson shit?” Kevin asked.

“Ferguson shit? That’s what we’re calling it?”

“Oh, right. Here’s a better name for it: Five to ten years for me. Fifteen years for you.”

“I was thinking twenty.”

“ Twenty?” He slammed the table. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Twenty years? Are you suggesting that we just turn ourselves in?”

“No…” she said. “Just Liam.”

“What?” He sounded appalled. “Are you joking right now?”

“Do you hear me laughing?”

Silence.

“Ava, look…” He sighed. “Liam is like a brother to me—”

“Says the man who’s currently fucking his wife…Some brother you are.”

“This is a mistake.”

“A mistake would be one time,” she said, lighting a cigarette. “Once a day for the past few years isn’t necessarily the same thing. Sorry.”

My heart sank.

“It was a mistake, Ava.” He looked conflicted. “Tonight was going to be the last time anyway. I can’t keep doing this to him.”

“I don’t want to stop.” She walked over to the window and sighed. “I can’t…”

“What?”

“He doesn’t give me what I need anymore…”

“You’ll have to find a way that he can. Now actually might be a good time to start, seeing as though he might have to be your lawyer.”

She turned around in tears. “Is this really the last time?”

“The first time should’ve been the last time.” He walked over and massaged her shoulders. “You were only using me…You tend to forget that.”

“I wasn’t—” She choked back a sob. “I wasn’t using you…”

“Yes you were.” He kissed her lips. “And that’s okay. I sympathized.”

“Did you think I was a horrible person?

“No.”

“You promise?”

He nodded, cupping her face in his hands. “He couldn’t give you a baby and you wanted one…Naturally…That’s completely understandable.”

I held back a gasp.

“He doesn’t fuck me like you do...” she whispered.

“Stop it, Ava.” He kissed her cheek. “Stop it.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore.

I couldn’t take it.

As the two of them kissed and held each other—completely immersing themselves in their own world, I forced myself to walk away.

I hit the lights in my office and noticed a bright blue box on my desk. It read, “To: the love of my life. From: Your first and only love.”

My heart ached again as I tore the wrapping and looked inside: A new set of cufflinks, a set that probably cost more than all of my suits combined. My initials were engraved in them, and she’d enclosed a quote from my favorite authors:

“Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of life much so. Aim above morality.”

-Henry David Thoreau

I sighed. She’d left out the last part of the quote, the “Be not simply good; be good for something.”

I pulled out my phone and sent her an email:

Subject: Coffee.

I think I will try some coffee…Are you still at the coffee shop?

–Liam

Subject: Re: Coffee.

Yes. I think I’ll be here all night.

What kind would you like?

–Ava.

Subject: Re: Re: Coffee.

Whatever you think is best for a first timer…

Have you talked to Kevin today?

–Ava

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Coffee.

Not at all. He’s been weirder than usual lately. (We really need to find him a girlfriend…) Have you?

–Ava.

I didn’t answer.

I left my office and walked over to Emma’s playroom, looking at her as she slept peacefully. I wanted to make her wake up, make her look at me, so I could study her features and pick them apart, so I could see for myself that she was indeed Kevin’s, but I couldn’t.

She was mine, biological father or not.

I carried her out of the firm and rushed home. As soon as I set her down, I flipped over the coffee table and opened the envelope I’d filed away hours earlier.

It was a standard summons, a demand to appear in court, but the charges listed didn’t end on one page. They didn’t even end on two.

It was a ten page manifesto, a laundry list of bullshit that I would never attempt: bribery, racketeering, tax fraud, mail fraud, wire fraud—every fucking fraud.

What the hell is this?

I pored over the documents for hours, my mind racing a mile a minute. Still, I couldn’t completely process everything—my mind was still thinking about Kevin and Ava.