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My Enemy Next Door

Page 12

by Nicole London


  “Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

  “Never.”

  He smiles and covers my mouth with more kisses. Then he continues controlling my body with his for what feels like forever.

  When we’re done, we do it again.

  Then again.

  Then every day after that, we do it whenever and wherever we can.

  FOURTEEN

  Courtney: Present Day

  ONE OF MY FAVORITE law professors once told me that the worst thing a lawyer can do is hold a grudge. She said the inability to let go of something in your past would always affect the arguments in your present, and that no lawyer “worth a damn” had enough time in the world to practice and focus on the past at the same time.

  Even though I committed every other lesson that this professor taught to heart, that was the one piece I always ignored. Through my years in law school, whenever I was forced to work on a mock case that involved a dispute between two lovers, I always sided with the one I related to the most. The one who was stupid enough to believe in love and was burned with reality when it was time to face it.

  I was bitter and immature then, still secretly holding contempt for a guy I never mentioned aloud to anyone else. But now, I was starting to see what that law professor meant, and over the past couple weeks, I was certain I’d become a much better lawyer.

  Ever since we had sex after the business trip, Jace and I were spending our overtime hours in each other’s apartments. During the week, he invited me over after work. While he cooked and committed some of his most compelling arguments to memory, I pored over more research and made calls to our clients. On weekends, he knocked on my door with breakfast and we sat in my living room—side by side, working until the sun set.

  Occasionally, he’d look over at me with his stunning blue eyes and I’d find myself in his arms and on my back for an afternoon quickie, but we tried to keep most of our attention on the looming case ahead.

  And in moments like tonight, when I was sitting in his lap as we both read separate documents, I really just wanted to let everything from before go. I didn’t want us to have to sit through a conversation “after the trial” about all the things that’d gone wrong. I wanted us to keep doing this, this thing that still—ten years later, felt so right.

  Uncapping my highlighter, I marked a passage in bright pink. I was in the middle of highlighting another one, when the front door to my apartment opened.

  What the?

  I waited to see if the landlord was making a random appearance, but it was Mila.

  “Good evening, Court,” she said, shutting the door behind her. “Hey, Jace. Again, for like, the umpteenth day in a row.”

  He laughed. “Hello, Mila.”

  “Am I interrupting sex?”

  “Does it look like you’re interrupting sex?” I tossed a pencil at her, laughing. “What do you want? And why do you have a key to my apartment?”

  “I have a key because up until a few months ago, I was your only friend.” She glanced at Jace and playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m here because the cable in my apartment keeps freezing. I need to watch my show tonight since it’s running without commercials on the fashion network.”

  I blinked. “Come again? What show?”

  “The Victoria Secret Fashion Show,” Jace said, standing to his feet. “You were in it this year, correct?”

  “I was.” She smiled. “Me and Court usually watch it together, but I’m giving her a pass this year since she’s working on a case that seems like a pretty big deal.”

  “It is a pretty big deal,” Jace said, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “You can use my apartment to watch your show. I can’t focus if the television is on, so I figure it’s more than fair.”

  “Thank you so much!” She took his keys and walked to the door. Then she whispered to me, “He’s a keeper...Fuck him tonight, for me.”

  “He can hear you just like I can, Mila,” I said.

  “Oh.” She blushed, laughing. “Well, I still mean it.” She left out of my apartment as fast as she came in.

  “Do you have a transcript of the Robinsons’ television interview from 1999?”

  “I do.” I flipped through my binder and handed it to him. “The part you’re looking for is highlighted.”

  “Do we have all the Masons’ medical bills?”

  “In the folder to your left.”

  “Okay, and what about the deposition from the Bryson versus Graham case? Do you have the transcript of that for me?”

  I flipped through the files to my right. Then I flipped through the files to my left.

  Shit... “I left all of last week’s research back at the firm. I knew I was missing something when I left today.”

  “Okay.” He sighed and pulled out his car keys. “We need that, so let’s go back and get it.”

  “No. You stay here and work on your opening statement. You said you wanted to have it perfected by next week.”

  “It’ll only take me twenty minutes to drive you there and back.”

  “I’ve seen you drive when you’re focused on something else.” I shook my head and took the keys from him. “We’ll probably end up in Jersey with you at the wheel. I’ll be right back.” I grabbed my coat and my purse before he could say anything else and I rushed toward the elevator.

  The second I made it to the parking garage, my phone buzzed with a text message from him.

  JACE: Thank you. Be careful.

  I made it to the firm in record time, enjoying the feel of Jace’s Jaguar every mile of the way. When I arrived at my office, I scooped up the file box I needed and noticed there was a pink envelope on my desk.

  Opening it, I made my way downstairs as I read the neat, cursive handwriting:

  Dear Courtney,

  I still fucking love you.

  Jace

  PS—Do you by any chance remember the last lines you wrote in my senior yearbook?

  PSS—We can discuss our past until we’re blue in the face “after the trial,” but I just want you to know I’ll fucking love you no matter what

  I READ OVER HIS WORDS repeatedly as I walked out of the firm, laughing at his bluntness. I felt like we were on the same page when it came to wanting things to stay how they were now, and I felt like I was floating. My stilettos felt as if they were carrying me on air, and then I suddenly stopped mid-thought.

  What the hell?

  My box slipped from my hands and hit the ice first, and then my back made a sickening splat noise as it hit the railing.

  I wasn’t floating.

  I was falling.

  Literally.

  FIFTEEN

  Courtney: Present Day

  A few weeks later...

  THIS WAS not how I pictured making my debut in my first huge case. I was supposed to be standing right next to Jace in the cover photo of Legal Affairs Magazine, under the headline that read, “Walton & Associates Takes Bryson Power & Water to Court: Historic Class Action Lawsuit.” I was supposed to be on television, answering reporters’ questions every few days like he was—letting them know we were definitely going to win this for our clients. And as uninspiring as it sounded, I would’ve given anything to be joining our team in one of the cramped hotel rooms, in the small county, where the trial was taking place.

  Instead, I was sitting in my bed—surrounded by pillows, “Get Well Soon” cards, and an array of colorful plastic scratchers to use whenever I needed to reach my left leg. My fall on the ice that night had been brutal, and I’d stayed in the hospital for two weeks while doctors stabilized the numerous compound fractures in my leg. They kept saying I was “lucky” that my back was only severely bruised with contusions, but once Mr. Walton removed me from the case for recovery, I failed to see where any “luck” was.

  The only highlight about my condition was that Jace called me every few hours with updates, and he’d personally hired someone to make food for me every day while he was away. He blamed himself for my injury and vowed to
make it up to me, even though I told him every day that he didn’t have to.

  Then again, Mr. Walton was super impressed with my work and he’d given me plenty of files to look over for my next case. He’d also gifted me with a deluxe wheelchair, but I still needed help getting into it.

  Grabbing a pink scratcher, I slid it down my cast and began to scratch. Then I hit play on the last unmarked DVD I’d placed in the player.

  I opened my notebook, prepared to take down the quotes from a witness that stood out most, but the person on my television wasn’t a witness at all. It was Jace.

  He smiled and adjusted the camera, looking directly at me.

  “Courtney,” he said. “I know you have a talent for finding the truth buried under years of deposition tapes, so I’m hoping you’ll find this one this week while you’re at home.” He paused and smiled, looking sexier than ever in a navy-blue suit. “I’m sure we have a lot to discuss about where we went wrong ten years ago after the trial, but for the record, I like how the past few weeks have gone between us. I feel like we still have a lot to learn about each other, but I’m more than willing to work on picking up from here when it’s all said and done. And by here, I don’t mean friendship because I won’t be able to be “just friends” with you. Ever. It’s all or nothing, and I’m not going to accept nothing.”

  I hit pause on the tape and grabbed a bottle of water from my nightstand.

  All or nothing, and I’m not going to accept nothing...

  I hit play.

  “Nonetheless, looking back, I wish we’d just talked because I think we could’ve sorted this out long before this point. But because I know you, and I know you won’t be able to truly let go until you know both sides, here is exactly what I remember and why I felt like it was you who left me...”

  I hit pause again and leaned back against my pillows. I wasn’t ready to watch the rest of this right now.

  Something told me his version was going to be a lot different from my version, and I needed to make sure I was fully rested before I combed through every detail of his story.

  E.N.E.M.Y.

  M is for MALICE

  (It also stands for mistake, which is unfortunately what my relationship with Jace Kennedy was all along.)

  Courtney: Back Then

  “DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE that, Courtney,” Jace says, hugging me. “It’s just college, not the end of the world.”

  “Okay.” I try to smile, but I can’t do it. I’m currently standing in his dorm room at Central University—a college that’s six hours away from Blue Harbor. I’ve made the trip with him in his truck, but I’ll be taking the trip back home with his mother.

  His senior year flew by in a total blur, and the moments we shared together—late nights in his pickup truck, laughter around the lake, kisses around school bonfires, all seem so distant now. It’s as if I didn’t commit the details to memory well enough to hold onto them for the long term.

  He’s given me his senior yearbook so I can write the long inscription I never got around to writing this summer, but we both know that it’s more than that. It’s a tangible thing for him to come home for, a reason he can come knock on my door should we break up between now and his holiday break.

  “I told you that I’ll still call you every night,” he says, kissing my forehead. “And I’m going to come home to see you every four weeks.”

  “That’s once a month.”

  “That’s why I said four weeks. Once a month sounds unbearable.”

  “Don’t leave me while you’re here, Jace.”

  “What?” He holds me tighter. “What do you mean?”

  “Like, leave me,” I say. “Physically you’ll be gone, but I’ll still need you to be there for me emotionally. And I’ll still need you to act like you’re my best friend...Also, you can’t date anyone else. That counts as leaving me, too.”

  “Okay.” He lets me go and walks over to his door shutting it. “The rules are the same for you then. Especially that last part. No dating other guys while I’m gone.”

  “No guy at Blue Harbor has approached me since I started dating you.”

  “Good.” He kisses me and pulls me onto the bed. “Then let’s keep it that way. Let’s also stop acting like this is some type of funeral.”

  “By having sex on your dorm bed?”

  His kisses answer my question.

  E.N.E.M.Y.

  M is for MALICE, AGAIN

  (It also stands for mistake, which is unfortunately what my relationship with Jace Kennedy was all along.)

  Courtney: Back Then

  Two weeks later

  JACE KEEPS HIS PROMISE to call me every night, but the conversations don’t last like they once did. I tell myself that this is normal, that he’s just adjusting to his new life in college and things will go back to normal soon. To show that I’m not upset about the new change in our relationship, I tell him that we should consider emailing each other. That way there’s no excuse not to keep up with each other every day.

  Still, without him being in Blue Harbor, I realize just how much time we used to spend together. I eat lunch alone at school, I have no one to hang out with afterward, and on weekends, I’ve tried forcing myself to hang out with my debate teammates, but they don’t share my sense of humor like he does.

  I’ve never felt so utterly alone, and despite all the amazing things I once looked forward to doing when I finally became a high school senior, they all seem pointless without him being here to share it with me.

  I decide not to burden him with how I’m really feeling—promising myself I’ll tell him the truth when he finally comes home to see me.

  If he ever comes home to see me...

  SUBJECT: TWO MORE WEEKS!

  Hey Jace,

  I’m so happy you’re in college and pursuing acting. (I’m sure you’re wowing everyone already). I miss you like crazy. Tell me everything you’ve been up to this week.

  Miss you and love you,

  —Court

  PS—Can’t wait to see you in TWO WEEKS!

  SUBJECT: RE: TWO MORE Weeks!

  Hey Court,

  I like this email idea. I tried calling you earlier, but I couldn’t get a good signal in the dining hall.

  My acting classes are not what I thought they would be. I’ll have to tell you about it over the phone.

  Anyway, I miss you more. I’ll try to call you this weekend to catch you up on everything.

  —Jace

  PS—Don’t hate me, but I may not be able to come home in two weeks. Let’s aim for four weeks from now instead? I’ll make it up to you I promise.

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: TWO More Weeks!

  I definitely want to hear more about your acting classes. (My AP English class is nothing like I thought it would be either, so I can totally relate.)

  I understand the change. I’ll change your homecoming date on my calendar, and I’m anxiously awaiting to see how you’ll make this up to me. **wink wink**

  PS—I really miss hearing your voice on the phone at night. (I called you three times this week...Is the reception really that bad on your campus?)

  SUBJECT: I’M THE NEW captain!

  Hey Jace!

  You’re officially talking to the new captain of the Debate team! (It was actually a unanimous vote). I’m totally excited, but this means I’ll have to put in an extra hour or two of prep every day. My parents are taking me out tonight to celebrate.

  How are classes going? You still haven’t told me, but hopefully you’re more adjusted to your course load now. Did you forget to call me this weekend like you said? I don’t have a missed call.

  —Court

  SUBJECT: RE: I’M THE new captain!

  Hey Court,

  Sorry it took me so long to get back to you.

  Congrats on being the new captain. You deserve it.

  Talk soon.

  Love you,

  —Jace

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: I’M the new captain!

  Ja
ce,

  Is that seriously all you have to say about me being captain?

  I deserve it????

  Court

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: I’m the new captain!

  Of course not. I’m sending you something in the mail this week to congratulate you as well.

  You do deserve it.

  Jace

  SUBJECT: PHONE CALLS

  Hey...You didn’t call me at all this week, and you haven’t responded to my last three emails. Are you okay?

  PS—I got the gift you sent me in the mail this week. Thank you so much.

  PSS—As much as I love the things you send me in the mail, I really love just talking to you...Please call me.

  SUBJECT: HAPPY MONDAY!

  Hey. Just adding this email to the other thread I’ve been sending you.

  I have a new part-time job on Sundays at Paper & Spine... It helps me fill my time since you’re not here.

  I’m attaching some pictures I’ve taken this year.

  PS—Today I sat down to write my long letter at the back of your yearbook, but it was starting to feel weird because we’re not in the same place we were when you left. At least it feels like it...

  PSS—Call me...I guess.

  SUBJECT: RE: HAPPY Monday

  Hey Court,

  I’m sorry I haven’t been calling and emailing you as much as I should. I promise I’m going to try and do better. I’ve been thinking...Would you like to come up to campus to see me since I keep pushing my visit home back? I’ll buy your train ticket.

 

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