by Len Webster
I was so angry with you for making me feel that.
I was so angry with Noel for loving another woman while he was with me.
I hated Clara for marrying the man I loved.
And I hated myself for not having the courage to face you the most.
I shouldn’t have made you go all those months without hearing from me. I just needed to start new. Without knowing that my boyfriend married another only months after I broke up with him. I needed to be away from him and people who knew what happened. I needed to be away so I could hate without hurting his marriage.
I needed to be away from you the most, Max.
I needed time to think of what one kiss meant.
One kiss.
That was it.
It was just one kiss.
And you and I both knew it wasn’t enough.
But I was Noel’s.
He might not have been mine, but I was his.
And for a brief minute under that tree, I was yours.
Completely yours.
And now, I have to face the fact that I have to work in the same building as the man who fell out of love with me.
A married man.
I still want him.
I still love him.
I still desire to have him leave her for me.
To return to me.
But I only have these feelings because of my pride.
I was made a fool.
And what was worse was that I blamed you.
You, Max.
Innocent, sweet, loving you.
You did nothing but care for me.
And I’m so sorry I wasted that.
So here I am, writing you this confusing email because hearing that I might see you again made me feel all those emotions I felt under that tree.
I want to see you.
I want the chance to have everything you offered me.
I’m so sorry, Max.
Please forgive me for being so selfish.
I let my pride cost me you.
Give me a chance to redeem myself.
Yours,
Andrea.
That was it.
All the words he had ever wanted to hear from her.
And that small piece of him that still cared for her burst within him and took his heart with its explosion.
The pain and misery opened his wounds.
The same wounds Josie had soothed and healed.
Andrea helped destroy him.
Josie healed him and made him her equal.
There was a difference between the two.
Andrea might claim a piece of him.
But Josie owned not only his heart but also his mind.
She gave him a brighter outlook on life where he was deserving.
Where he could be her hero and not the villain.
Being Josie’s hero meant finding a way to forget Andrea Wallace.
And Max knew to forget her was never to reply to her.
After all, ignorance is bliss.
At nine a.m., Max was sitting in the first row behind his father and his client in the Supreme court. In Gordon Sheridan’s opening statement, he had labelled Andrew Walsh a loving husband who loved his wife more than money or possession. He went on to tell the jury that Andrew was a man who dedicated his life to his wife’s happiness and couldn’t be held responsible for his wife’s death. Gordon went on to say that Andrew missed his wife and buried an empty coffin and couldn’t be tried for murder if one didn’t even occur. At the end of his opening statement, Max’s father stated that the truth would be revealed in court. That Andrew Walsh had been framed, and his wife was still alive.
After eleven a.m., a short recess was called after the prosecution had finished questioning the medical examiner. The ME who testified stated the amount of blood found on the kitchen floor was sufficient blood loss to be considered a homicide, and that nothing in the blood tested proved that any tampering had occurred.
“It’s not looking good, Gordon,” Andrew stated, fear and anxiety written on his face as he and Gordon turned to face Max.
Max got up from the row and nodded at his father. “You did well,” Max said.
“He did?” Andrew asked, sceptical.
“Mr Walsh, I can assure you that you have the best defence lawyer in the country. My father knows exactly what to do when he cross examines the ME. It’s only the first day of your trial.”
Andrew nodded, but the concern in his eyes hadn’t faded. “Will you still be here after the recess? Could really use a friend, Max.”
“I just have to step out to make a phone call.” Max had nodded at them both before he made his way down the aisle and then towards the court doors.
He needed fresh air. How his father was able to sit in a courtroom with stale air was beyond him. Max was glad he hadn’t followed in his father’s footsteps and pursued a career in criminal law.
Once Max had made it through the arched doors and exited the Supreme courthouse, he went down the short steps until he stepped onto the footpath of William Street. He took a deep breath. The fresh air worked wonders for his lungs and his mild headache.
Reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out his phone to find several missed calls and text messages. He unlocked it to find a few from a number he didn’t recognise, some from Julian, one from Noel, and even a text message from Alex.
But no call or text message from Josie.
It was Monday.
He had hoped that three days would be long enough for her to think about them being together.
What if giving her space was all the time she needed to realise we shouldn’t be together?
That they should just be friends.
Friends.
The one word he hated when it came to Josephine Faulkner.
They might have started out as friends, but he wanted more.
Desperately wanted more.
The small recess would end soon, and Max would have to go through security once more before returning to the courtroom. So he would have to reply to his best friends once his day in court had ended. Being supportive of his father had cost him an entire day’s worth of his own work, but the opening day was the most important day of the trial.
Max opened the mail app on his phone and swiped his thumb down to refresh it. Several new emails appeared, and he was shocked to find another message from Andrea.
Curious, he opened it, choosing to read hers rather than the others sent to him since he entered the courtroom.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: The apology that is almost a year too late.
Max,
I deserve no reply from you.
Last night, I reread your emails.
I read your pain, and I am so sorry I hurt you.
You chose me.
And it took me a long time to realise just how special that declaration was.
You chose me.
He chose her.
I chose you too late and went to Orlando instead of telling you that.
I was scared another man would hurt me.
You made a lot of promises.
I believed them.
But I also believed Noel when he said he loved me.
I now know that I made the mistake of comparing you to him.
Because I get why he fell in love with Clara.
I get why he made her his wife.
She understands him.
I saw the wedding pictures, and seeing them as bride and groom was all I needed to see.
I’m choosing you, Max.
It’s been over a year since you last kissed me.
It’s been over a year since I last saw you.
Please come to Boston.
Please let me explain myself in person.
I treated you wrong when all you did was try to treat me right.
I’m sorry, Max.
Yours,
Andrea.
&nb
sp; Just as he exited her message, he received another. And to his disappointment, it was from Andrea and not Josie.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I made such a terrible mistake.
I did.
And I have so much regret.
Please write me back.
Yours,
Andrea.
Regret was such a powerful word.
And Andrea was a powerful woman.
He had been attracted to her strength and ambitions. He had been attracted to her need to prove herself. They shared many traits.
Regret being one of them.
And right now, as he stood outside the Supreme Court of Victoria, he had one.
He regretted the fact he was tempted to reply and tell her all the lies that had been truths many months ago.
That he still wanted her.
“Don’t you think drinks are a bit pre-emptive?” Max asked with a hint of humour in his tone.
His father chuckled. “It was a good day in court.”
Max nodded. For him, it would be his last until the final day of court. His father had a whole team who would be there for support if he needed it. Max had made sure his findings were all catalogued and in order for his father. The emails were already submitted into evidence and were available for the prosecution. But so far, they hadn’t put it together that the contract for hire was carefully imbedded in the wife’s emails. Unfortunately for his father, the cyber experts hadn’t been able to locate exactly where the receiver of those emails was. The IP addresses bounced through several different countries, and it was taking some time to pinpoint the exact location. Whoever the wife had hired was a professional.
“There are many days in court left,” Max tried to reason.
“So you won’t be joining us? The others are already on their way there.”
Max shook his head. “I have a lot of work to catch up on. A few redrafts I need to look at.”
“Don’t stay too late, all right?” It surprised Max that his father seemed to care about how long he spent at the office. It used to be that Max never spent enough time, but now it seemed the opposite.
“I won’t,” he promised.
His father set his hand on Max’s shoulder and then squeezed it. “The past few weeks, I’ve never been more proud to call you my son. You’ve really come into your own.”
And before Max could even respond to his father’s rare compliment, his father spun around and made his way towards the waiting black BMW. One of the perks of being the state’s most sought-after lawyer was being able to afford a car service. However, Max enjoyed driving his Porsche. It was one of the only luxuries he had ever indulged in.
His father was proud of him.
Proud of the lawyer he was.
For the first time, Max felt as if he were worthy of being proud of.
His life had changed since he sat across from Josephine Faulkner that night her father had stood her up for dinner. It was at the same restaurant Max had taken her to on Thursday night. The same restaurant where his ex-whatever-she-was begged him not to love Josie. And the same restaurant they had left and ended up sharing their first kiss and confessions.
He had hoped Monday was enough time for her to decide.
But as Max pulled his phone out from his jacket pocket with one hand and tightened his grip on his briefcase handle with the other, he realised that it wasn’t enough time.
It was already after four p.m.
Monday was almost finished.
Her time to think would rollover to Tuesday, and Max was terrified that it would continue for days to come. If not weeks. And that frightened him. He hadn’t seen her for fifteen days before their rain check dinner, and he was already missing her. Any more days and he’d do something drastic.
Like demand an answer.
Max walked into Gordon Sheridan Lawyers to find Ruby, the receptionist, behind the desk with a smile on her face.
“Good afternoon, Mr Sheridan,” she greeted as he walked past her and headed towards the elevators.
“Afternoon, Ruby,” he had said before he stopped in front of the elevator. Max reached forward and pressed the up button.
When the elevator opened, he stepped inside and pressed his floor’s button. Once the doors closed, he unlocked his phone and brought up Josie’s contact. His thumb hovered over the call icon as the steel box ascended. He wanted to talk to her.
He wanted feelings shared and expressed.
He wanted mutual love with her.
She might only like him, but he hoped someday that like turned into so much more than just love.
The ding of the elevator reaching his floor had him glancing up from his phone. He stepped off the elevator and headed towards his office. On his way, he walked past several of the junior lawyers and interns. They had all addressed him as Mr Sheridan, and he nodded and said hello. Max would have to ask HR for their files to find out their names and their background. He would make an effort to get to know them and give them the chance at forming a work connection. So that if they ever needed help, they could approach him without any fear of repercussion.
When Max reached his office, he pulled his set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed the glass door open and stepped inside his office. Max approached his desk and noticed a pink box on it. He stepped around the desk, set his briefcase on the floor, and slipped his phone into his dress pants pocket.
The pink box had a white ribbon wrapped around it with a bow on top. Curious, he pulled his office chair out and then lowered himself down to sit on it. Max squinted at the box as he set his hands on it and pulled it closer. Taking in the box, he saw no indicator of who it could be from. Max was used to gifts from his clients. Some he would send back because they were too grand, and others he had donated. But he had no idea which of his clients would send him a pink box.
Max reached up and grasped one of the ribbon ends. He pulled on it until the bow untied and Max could pull the white ribbon away from the box. Then he grasped the lid and lifted it up.
He let out a light laugh at the sight of four cupcakes.
Max knew these rare cupcakes.
They were his favourite from the Little Bakery on Little Collins Street.
His heart clenched at the sight of them. Only one person knew his favourite cupcake.
Josephine.
She had a box of banana and Walnut Whip cupcakes delivered to him. As he lifted the lid a little higher, he noticed something stuck on the inside of the lid.
It was an envelope.
Max pulled it off and let the lid rest against his desk. Then he picked up the box and set it away from him. He took in the small, rectangular white envelope to find his name beautifully written across it. He flipped it over, ripped the envelope open, and pulled out its contents.
His brows furrowed the moment he saw that it was Josie’s business cards.
Why would she send me her business cards?
He stared at the stack of cards.
Then it hit him.
She had written on the back of her card and had left it with the receptionist downstairs when he was out of his office, and she had come to visit him.
Max separated the cards and flipped over the first card to see that she had left him a message. It read:
I’m right for you, Max.
Then he flipped over another.
And you’re right for me.
He set the two cards down on his desk and flipped over the last card.
I’m waiting for you to make this right between us.
I’m ready when you are.
I like you, Max, the way I know you like me back.
Josie.
His love and her words hit him straight in his chest. It was a collision like no other. This was what he had always wanted. Someone to care for him. Like him and miss him.
Someone who understood him personally and professionally, and ever
ything between.
Someone right from him.
Someone like Josephine Faulkner.
And her three business cards were the encouragement he needed to swipe the cards off his desk and leap out of his chair.
Because he knew without hesitation or doubt.
I’m ready.
“No,” Josie breathed as she stared at the name of the sender of the email that had just landed in her inbox.
Johanna.
She was stunned.
She was the last person Josie had ever expected to get in touch with her. She owed Johanna nothing and had never heard from her. But after fourteen years of silence, Josie was curious to see what her father’s wife had to say.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Hello, Josie.
Dear Josie,
I hope this email gets to your correct email address. I asked your father’s assistant for a means to contact you. I thought a phone call might be uncomfortable for you.
I know I’m the last person you want emailing you, but I thought it was time. Your father made it clear that our meeting was out of the question. He informed me that you would never come to Germany—which is understandable. Your home is in Australia.
I wish I had written to you years ago.
I feel like I let time slip and let your father control every source of communication.
All I ask, Josie, is that you read this email.
That’s all.
As you already know, your father and I have two daughters.
Your sisters.
Their names are Heidi and Angelika.
Heidi is the eldest, and she’s thirteen.
Angelika is eleven.
They would like to know you.
Your father talks about you to them all the time. He talked about when you used to dance and shows them both pictures of you. They ask all the time when they can meet you, but I never gave them an answer. When they were little, it was easier to feed them the excuse that you were busy. But now that they’re older, they would like to meet their sister from Australia.