by Emily Duvall
“Your Honor, permission to approach the bench,” Caleb orders, already on his feet.
“Permission granted,” Judge Rice says. “Counselors.”
Everything takes a big pause.
Caleb stalks over to the judge giving me one side-eyed glance. The lawyers gather around the judge and they speak. Caleb’s jaw is rigid. His voice is strained. He speaks low and fast. The judge whispers furiously in response. The whispering is too hushed to pick up on what they’re discussing. They nod their heads and Caleb goes to the defense table without looking back.
Dana approaches me, positioning herself in front of the witness stand.
I thought I was at the end of my questioning.
I was so wrong.
She picks up right where she left off with Caleb heading back to the table. “You go jogging with Mr. Allan.”
“I do,” I say honestly.
I look to Libby, but I can’t make out her expression.
Rosenthal continues, “Have you slept with Mr. Allan?”
“Objection!” Caleb is outraged, his face is red. I’ve never seen him so angry. “Your Honor!”
“Ms. Cole,” Rosenthal persists, like a viper, “I’ll ask again. Have you had sex with Mr. Allan?”
Judge Rice is leaning in my direction, his face is full of anger. “Answer the question, Ms. Cole.”
“What does this have to do with the case?” I plead, gripping the chair and watching Dana. “I’m on Beth’s side. I came to you with my account of what happened.” I’m afraid the pounding of my heart against my chest is loud enough for everyone to hear. People are staring. They’re speaking to one another. Where are my parents in the audience? I can’t see them. Where is Libby? Where is she?
“Answer the question,” Judge Rice orders.
“Yes or no.” Rosenthal’s in my face and her eyes are red and wide. Dark pupils stare back at me and I swear she’s breathing hard. “Did you have sex with Mr. Allan?”
“That question is personal.”
Judge Rice pounds his gavel to stop the chatter from the spectators. “Ms. Cole, I’ll give you one more chance.”
“Yes,” I say, meeting Rosenthal’s gaze. “Four times.”
A bomb might as well have been set off. People are talking. The noise level is off-the-charts. Libby’s running down the aisle, but the bailiff stops her, ordering her to turn around. Mr. Pierce is shouting at Caleb. Caleb looks at me. I cringe.
I’m frightened by the look on his face.
The mallet in Judge Rice’s hand comes down hard. I jump out of my chair and clench my arms against my chest. I put my hands over my ears. “Stop it!” I yell.
The mallet, again and again. Rosenthal’s voice is sure as she says something about having Caleb removed from the case.
I want to wake up and be somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
I sneak a look at Caleb. There’s no comfort. No friendship. No trace of anything ever existing between us. There’s an element of coldness in his expression that chills my skin. My face is flushed, and my hands shake. Everything else is a blur with the judge ordering for a recess and the jury ushered out, until the bailiff is at my side. “It’s over,” he said. “You can step down.”
Chapter 26
Caleb
I’m drunk and alone in my house with a bottle of vodka near empty. Someone’s knocking on the door—a door I won’t answer. I can’t. Whoever’s pounding their fist is annoying as hell. “Go away,” I mumble, and stand too fast, causing my knees to buckle and I twist to catch my fall with my face on the armrest. “Shit,” I say at the sting of pain to my nose.
That moment in court is what I see as I make my way to the door. I see Maren’s face. I see her expression. A sheet of horror over her delicate features like a mask. “It’s personal,” she had used my phrase to answer Rosenthal’s questions. I’d like to get up in Rosenthal’s closet and pull a few of her secrets out and see how well she holds up in court. This wasn’t about Beth or Paul or the trial. She could have won the case and she didn’t. This was personal. She had to tear me down first. I should have seen her coming. It wasn’t until she was bulldozing Maren that I realized her strategy.
I fling open the door to find my ex-boss standing there in her matching crème pantsuit and pearls. She looks like a vanilla ice cream cone. “You’ve been drinking,” Julie says with disdain and enters, pulling off her oversized sunglasses.
“You’ve always been observant,” I call over my shoulder, leaving her to follow.
“Caleb, don’t walk away. Turn around. Face me.”
I comply with heavy shoulders. “What do you want?”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to the firm’s reputation? To me? To your career? What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” I shout. “Okay?”
“Your misconduct was appalling. You’re the last person I would think would cross the line. I’m disappointed in you and what your future would have been at Hockley and Lyon. I’ve been a champion for your work since you began. I hand-picked you out of thousands of applicants. I thought I saw something special in you.”
“I never asked for any favors.”
“You went along with the perks. You wanted the promotions. You liked the money. Now you’ve turned your career into a shit-show.”
“If you’re going to fire me, get on with it.”
Her mouth gapes open in offense. “You should be down on your knees begging for your job. But yes, you’re no longer an employee at the firm. Your office has been cleared out. A rep from company security will drop your belongings here by Friday.”
“There’s nothing from my office that I need. Trash whatever you want.”
“You understand you’ll be investigated by the American Bar Association.”
“I’m aware.”
“How could you have not seen what Dana was doing?” Her rage quiets for a moment.
“I didn’t until it was too late.”
“She orchestrated that entire scene. The judge wouldn’t push back the court date with Maren’s evidence and she took matters into her own hands. Now Pierce will be slapped with a new set of charges, including attempted murder. She used you and her witness. Even after all that, I give her credit. And what did you have to throw back at her? Nothing. Honestly, Caleb. Sleeping with a witness? You’ve lost your touch.” Her eyes sweep over the house and at me one final time. She puts her sunglasses back on. “I would say good luck, but I hope you fail. You deserve whatever comes from this.”
I go to the doorway and stay there, watching Julie get in her Range Rover and back out of the driveway. I could call Sara and yell at her. She went back on our deal. I could have had my job this morning. Julie would never have come and fired me. The SUV disappears around the fence. She goes with the next forty years of my life and my opportunities become someone else’s. They are Sara’s or Jane’s. Losing my job isn’t something I ever saw coming. This wasn’t the design for my life. Last week I had everything. Now, empty bottles of alcohol and a bad attitude are hanging around like leftovers even I don’t want to eat.
I’m man enough to know that this is my fault.
The day continues with drinking and ignoring calls from reporters and messages from colleagues. Jane sends a kind email, as does my personal assistant and a few other employees. None of the partners reach out. Not surprising, as they sent Julie to speak to me ‘from the group.’ There’s a voicemail from a woman in human resources and I don’t bother to check the rest. I take up my position on the couch, legs stretched out with the remote on my abs and I close my eyes.
The moon is out when I wake up with a massive headache and the need to piss. Painkillers help with the first and I use the restroom and shrug out of my suit that I haven’t changed out of in two days. I’m back in bed and awake, waiting for the throbbing to stop beating on my skull. My arm falls over my eyes and I sink into sleep.
“You stink,” the maddened voice says.
The f-word flies out of my mouth. My arm flies to my forehead to block out the intrusion. “Go away.”
“Get up.”
Sunlight obliterates my bedroom. How did I get here? I thought I had passed out on the couch. Just for kicks, I raise my head and see the voice attached to this face. Libby’s standing at the foot of my bed and staring at me like a lawyer and a mother which is a dangerous combination. There’s nothing about me she’ll tolerate. I can see it in her eyes. “How did you get inside?” I say like a prick.
“Your front door was unlocked.”
Julie leaving in a burning path of red-hot anger comes to mind, her own personal brand of lava. “Guess I forgot. What do you want?”
“I thought we could talk. I brought coffee and egg sandwiches.”
“There’s nothing left to say.” My stomach’s response is an extra loud growl.
“Get over yourself, Caleb. Get in the shower and meet me downstairs.”
“Any chance you’ll leave me alone?”
“None.”
The prospect of coffee and breakfast motivate me. I rip off the covers and get to my feet.
Libby shields her eyes and rushes out of the bedroom. “Ugh, spare me.”
I look down, at least I’m wearing boxer briefs.
A hot shower and a round of vomiting helps. I go to the good-old standby of athletic shirt and shorts. My hair is wet and combed as I meet her in the kitchen. She’s made herself comfortable at the counter with her orange juice open and her sandwich unwrapped. The scent of grease causes my mouth to water. I haven’t eaten since the trial and I inhale the meal. “Julie fired me,” I say between breaths.
“I think the entire courtroom saw that coming.”
I ignore her attempt at humor. “How’s your sister?”
“Your one and only?” she answers with a dry tone. “She wants nothing to do with you, which I’m sure you already know.”
A knot widens in my stomach. “She has every right.”
“This one time in high school—
“Let me guess, class nerd who slept with the quarterback.”
“This is about Maren. Shut-up and listen. I found out my boyfriend—not the quarterback—had cheated on me with my best friend.”
“Ouch.”
“When I found out, I was upset for weeks. My emotions were a mess and I didn’t think Maren understood. Not once did she ask how I was doing, and I remember feeling so hateful towards her that she didn’t get what I was going through, that she couldn’t buy me ice cream and watch bad dramas on television and gossip about every aspect of how things went down. I wanted her to be someone else. I started coming home and going straight to my room where I closed the door and shut her out. I grieved for the loss of my stupid boyfriend and the kind of sister I would never have. Then one day, I opened the door to find her sitting there with a pack of my favorite Swedish fish gum. The next day, she wrote a note detailing the dismal statistics for how many teenagers end up marrying their high school sweethearts. Another day she color-coordinated a chart about the traits of what a best friend should be and compared it with my friend who had betrayed me. For two weeks she did this. She offered to go with me to get my nails done, even though she wouldn’t go inside because she couldn’t stand the smell. She said she would wait in the car. Every day, she was consistent. She waited outside my door with a gift. She didn’t say anything. She just showed up.” Libby gives me a teary-eyed glance. “After that, I never wanted her to be anyone different. I stayed put all these years by choice, because I wanted to be close to that girl.”
“I wish I could know that girl. Sometimes I feel like our relationship is all about her.”
“It’s not, I promise. And there is nothing like it when she gives an inch. She knows you’re hurting, Caleb. She knows, and she’s hurting, too. Maren might not always say or do the right thing, but right now she’s sitting in her apartment trying to figure out what to do.”
“Did you see the way she looked on the stand?”
“She looked and spoke and acted like she should have. She wasn’t prepared to handle what Rosenthal did to her. I would have done the same. I would have had a meltdown. Rosenthal turned against Maren. She stabbed everyone in the back—you, her team, and the families of her clients. She made this about you, and she risked the case. That kind of recklessness will come back to bite her. I truly believe that.” Libby folds the foil wrapper of her sandwich and grabs her orange juice. “How did Rosenthal find out about the two you anyway?”
“Sara,” I admit begrudgingly. “She’d stopped by my house a few days ago and saw Maren.” I leave out the part about her wearing my clothes. “Why are you here? Why are you telling me this stuff?”
“We’re friends. I came here to check on you.”
“Why didn’t we ever talk like this at the office?”
“Because we were competitors. Besides, you’re a lot more tolerable like this, unemployed at my mercy.” She smiles in a way that reminds me of Maren.
“How can I fix this?” I say, referring to Maren.
Her eyes are apologetic. “You can’t. My family and I need Maren to be in her routine. We think she’ll handle this better without any more upsetting situations.”
I know what’s coming and keep my thoughts to myself.
“We want you to stay away from her. If she sees you, hears from you, she’ll be stressed and right now she’s not coping well. The courtroom scene got to her and she’s got to move forward without setbacks. Any contact from you will devastate her.”
I give her a flippant look. “Is that what she wants?”
“It’s what she needs.” Libby swings her purse over her shoulder. She gives me a stiff hug and a weak smile. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll see myself out.”
I don’t follow her. I let her go. The entire Cole family can disappear from my life. I was much more in control before I let them in. Before I let her dad have a beer in my kitchen or her mom asking me to check on Maren. I was the one who didn’t want to get involved. They kept sticking their necks in my life. I stare at the cups of coffee on the counter and Libby’s breakfast sandwich wrapper. There’s no one else here to fill up the space, and as I stand here, I’m missing something I didn’t know I needed. What I want is for Maren to sit outside my door every day.
Chapter 27
Maren
“Your stomach is huge,” I say to Doctor K.
“Do you think that makes me feel good or bad?” she says, taking a seat and starting our last session before she goes out on maternity leave.
“I’m just commenting that the baby looks ready to come any second.” I don’t feel like explaining my every thought.
“Pregnancy has a way of making everything uncomfortable right towards the end.”
She rests her journal on her belly. I can see her belly button through the thin shirt. “Doctor Randi is going to replace me for the next three months. You’ll meet her at the next group. Do you have any questions about her?”
“No.”
“A lot has happened since we last met. I’m glad you took some time away from sessions to get rest. How’s everything going?”
I haven’t talked much about what happened at the trial or working through my thoughts on Caleb. I fold my hands together and pick at my nails. My eyes stare at the floor and the bits of dust embedded in the grooves of the hardwood.
“Maren?”
Searching for the right words…searching…computing…dang, if emotions were a number I’d be up in the multiple digits with infinite combinations. “I’m overwhelmed.”
“Is one of your thoughts more important than the other?”
“Caleb,” I say quickly, as if I might forget to be mad. I squeeze my eyes close. He’s there. He fills up my heart. Tender, kind, warm with his arms around me and the promise of something great in the next heartbeat. “He was real to me, and yet, I think he knew what he was doing. He slept with me, so I wouldn’t tell the truth. What if I hadn’t gone to Rosen
thal? Would he have put me on the stand like I was on his side? Libby tells me not to jump to conclusions. I don’t know though, the time we spent together felt easy and I’m suspicious there’s a reason for that easiness. Every other date I’ve been on in my life has been work.”
“The two of you did start out as friends. You didn’t become intimate with him right away. Unless he had grand plans to use you, do you think he got caught up in everything too fast?”
Her question is one of many which I have asked myself lately. “Possibly.” I grab a squeeze ball out of her basket and start pumping the soft, resilient material between my fingers. “The thing is, I want his friendship. I got used to seeing his number show up in my phone. I knew the trial was a problem and he did ask me to keep our relationship a secret, but I wasn’t expecting Dana to hit me with those questions. Why did she do that?”
“Maybe she’s the one who used you.”
My gaze travels over to her. “She didn’t live up to her end of the deal, to protect me as her witness.”
Doctor K runs her hand calmly over her belly. “Seems like more than one person in that courtroom broke the rules. Caleb broke his ethics as a lawyer, that’s a big deal.”
I groan. “I know, I know.”
“Do you think he would risk losing his job to be intimate with you if he didn’t feel strongly for you?”
“No. He loves his career too much. I guess—I guess, he wouldn’t have done that for just anyone.”
“You were both aware of the consequences. Did he ever ask you to lie about your testimony?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Did you ever tell him you didn’t want to see him romantically?”
“No. Never. That would be crazy.”
“Maren, what did you and Ms. Rosenthal discuss in your interview to prepare for the trial?”
“We went over the incident in the parking lot.”
“Did she ask about you and Caleb?”
“No. She didn’t even say his name. She only referred to him as ‘the defense’ and grilled me about the details from the night of the accident. She brought him up in court when our relationship had nothing to do with the case.”