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“Good thing we don’t have kids then,” she said in a slow, drunken chuckle. “This couch is so comfortable I could just crash right here. But yes, to answer your question, I’d love some water.”
“I’ll go grab us a pitcher.”
I wasn’t trying to sound like or be a bitch. I truly meant well, and typically I was fabulous company to be around, but sometimes words had this nasty habit of coming out and sounding so much harsher than they did when I first envisioned them in my head. I held nothing personal against Blaire. She was my coworker, my friend, and I really enjoyed getting together to have a few drinks when I could. Today was actually the perfect day for it. My emotions had more or less spiraled this morning after Karl’s arraignment, and after finally gaining the courage to speak privately with Harley, she ordered me to take a few personal days off and promised she’d call if there were any major breaks in Delilah’s case. I refused it at first because I just wanted the day, not two or even three, but it wasn’t like I could tell the woman I was fighting so hard to be her assistant wingman to shove those personal days up her ass, so, I reluctantly took the time off. Since this morning, I’d gone home and taken a shower, napped for a while, and then texted Peter asking him to come over later tonight after he got off work. Blaire showed up not long after that with about ten different boxes of Chinese food and two cases of wine. All we’d been doing for the last three to four hours was binge drink wine, eat, and watch bullshit love stories on Lifetime.
I didn’t mind it though. Blaire was right. It had been a while—months, in fact, since we'd gotten any girl time to gossip or focus on anything else other than work. That was also part of the reason I asked Peter to come over. He and I still had a lot we had to sort through with Karl.
I finished filling the water pitcher and like a thoughtful host, brought it with two empty glasses balanced in my other hand inside the living room. Blaire’s eyes were glued to some random Cinderella retelling that had just started playing on the TV. I poured her water and gave it to her and then plopped back down beside her.
“How are things coming with the Hamilton case?”
Okay, okay, fine. You caught me. Conversing about cases and clients to others was not only completely inappropriate but strictly forbidden given the attorney-client privilege. But let’s just be real here, it happens quite often than many are led to believe, especially amongst other lawyers who just so happen to be close friends.
“Don’t even get me started,” she scoffed. “You’ve handled all the actual work aspect of it, but now what I’m basically doing is sitting around in a cold conference room, listening to my very guilty client rant and rage over how the accident wasn’t his fault, and over how I need to get off my ass and do something to help him. Like dude, you were the one who put that bottle to your lips and chose to drive. There’s no way in fucking hell I can guarantee you a reprimand when your BAC is three times the legal drinking limit.”
I tried not to chuckle but honestly couldn’t help it. I knew exactly how she felt. Mr. Hamilton was an absolute nightmare to deal with and was the sole reason I’d originally taken that case off Blaire’s hands. My fuse was quite a bit bigger than hers when it came to the more challenging, or in Mr. Hamilton’s case, temperamental, rich clients of Seaview Pines. I felt bad I had to throw all of that madness back on her shoulders, but it was too late now and there was nothing I could do about it.
“What about you?” she asked, sipping her water. “How’s it going with your case?”
“Honestly,” I started with a deep sigh, “I really don’t know. We’ve been making some progress, but the problem is we really don’t have shit aside from DNA, and no, there wasn’t a match in CODIS. Whoever committed this crime doesn’t appear to have a record, but he’s definitely done his homework and seems to know what he’s doing.”
It was ridiculous. I’d spent hours on the computer, ingested health concerning amounts of coffee, and painfully expelled what had to be gallons upon gallons of caffeinated piss in my toilet just to come up fucking emptier than a pauper’s purse. I hoped the detectives were having better luck because as much as it internally butchered me to say it, I had a horrible feeling this case was falling downhill faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.
“That’s rough,” Blaire said with a pout. “I’m sorry. And hey, no offense, but I really don’t want to talk about work. I want to talk about you and how you’re doing now that Karl’s arraignment is over.”
I sighed. I may as well. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d been trying to avoid the conversation since she got here.
“I guess I’m doing okay.” I shrugged, because I knew there wasn’t shit else I could do except to take each day as it comes. It was no different than what I’d been doing for the last soon to be eight months now. “It hurts. Things should’ve never turned out this way.”
“What happens now that he has to wear an ankle monitor?”
I curled into the nearest cushion, making myself comfortable. “Well, as long as he doesn’t attempt to remove it or violates the restraining order by coming within a hundred feet or less of wherever I am, then nothing will happen. If he does, then, I guess I’ll have to do what I probably should’ve done this morning and throw his ass in jail.”
“Those restraining orders are a bullshit asset to our legal system and do absolutely no fucking good. You know just as well as I do that Karl can still stalk you right outside your house, or anywhere really, just so long as he doesn’t ‘fuck up’ by getting too close. You know guns are a thing, right, Charlotte? You don’t have to be standing a hundred feet away in order to shoot and kill somebody.”
“I’m aware.” I turned away and allowed the tears building under my lids to slip out and fall freely. “Thanks, Blaire.”
“I’m not trying to upset you, Char. I guess what I’m saying is that maybe it would help if I understood the real reason why you changed your mind after everything he’s done. I know you don’t like talking about it, but could you at least try for me? Please?”
“Everyone looks at Karl now and sees a monster, but what everyone also refuses to understand is that I was married to him for over ten years. That’s a long time, Blaire. Karl has always been a good man to me since the first day I met him, and the only reason any of this happened is because he cheated on me with a fucking nineteen-year-old, whom I never would’ve known a goddamn thing about if it weren’t for him running a red light and hitting another car.”
I paused, needing a minute to breathe so I wouldn’t completely combust into tears.
“Well, as you know, she died on impact. And then Karl lost his promotion and got booted back down to street traffic duty with the rookies. I filed for divorce. I quit speaking to not only him but to my parents as well. During the divorce they were trying to do or say any little thing they could to make me take every dime of money Karl had to his name and leave him slap broke with nothing but the clothes he had on his back. There’s more, but those are just some out of the many reasons why I dropped the charges.”
I looked at Blaire and found her gaping back at me like she still didn’t fully understand.
“I told you, I’m not a monster. Aside from Karl hitting me that one time and of course, the cheating, he’s never physically hurt me. I know I should want him to hurt and that I should want to ruin him like everyone has been telling me to, but it’s just not that simple when it comes to someone you’ve loved and spent a good chunk of your life with. The reason Karl has been so hostile lately is because he wants to talk to me, I guess to reconcile just like he did all the other times he's claimed he wanted to talk, and I’ve been telling him to fuck off and leave me alone. I’m hurting, yes, but the sad truth is, he’s lost a lot more than I have recently, and I’m not about to purposely ruin his life all because he cheated and broke my heart. I want to give him a chance to move on and let me go the right way, not only out of respect for him but because of the simple fact that I really don’t want to put his ass in jail if I don’t have to. If he doesn’t listen, then well, I guess I’ll do what I have to do. I just don’t want it to result to that. I really don’t.”
Blaire sprung forward and wrapped me in a tight embrace. “When you put it that way, it makes a lot more sense now. I’m sorry, Charlotte, I-I really am. You’re a good person.”
“I try to be.” I chuckled, reaching up to knuckle the tears under my eyes away before I pulled back, giving her the best smile I could muster.
“Forgive me for asking, but it’s been how long since you two split?”
“Coming up on eight months now.”
“Have you… You know…” She waggled her brows at me. “Gotten any during the separation?”
