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Cole sets his cup down and then mine. “Yes. You do. He was not perfect, but you have always told me that until the end you believed you were loved. Gambling, like drinking, is an addiction. He needed help.”
“Are you ever going to try to forgive your father?”
“Never. He was,” he considers a moment, “like the DA. He didn’t have a problem. He was the problem. He was just a monster.” He looks skyward and then settles his hands on my arms. “I’m not him. I will never be him. I promise you, Lori. I will always love you, protect you, and put you first.”
I’m not sure if he’s saying this for me because of how my father makes me feel, or for him, because of how his father makes him feel. Actually, I do. He’s saying it for us.
Everything is for us now.
Cole
Lori and I walk to the coffee shop, and we’re waiting for our order when Roger’s attorney calls. “Under the circumstances,” he says. “My client agrees to six months in hospital treatment in exchange for you dropping the charges.”
“Good. Put it in writing.”
Lori grabs our coffees and hands me mine, waiting eagerly for news, which I share. “It feels like this is almost over, doesn’t it?” she asks, as we exit to the street.
“It feels like we’re getting there,” I agree.
“Now we just need a new case,” she says as we arrive at the office, and step onto the elevator a good forty minutes early.
I glance over at her. “Yes. We do.” And I find I really mean that. We’re ready. I’m ready.
She rewards me with a beautiful smile and it’s a smile that I want to see for the rest of my life.
We enter the executive offices to find Ashley already at her desk, hard at work. I watch her interact with Lori and it’s clear to me that she’s not good. She’s not feisty and snarky. Her eyes are bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. Even her dress is black, like she’s in mourning. Lori notices, too, giving me a look that we both understand. I need to talk to her. Lori heads to her office, and I eye Ashley. “Grab a dollar bill or whatever you have and come to my office.”
She frowns and reaches for her purse. I enter my office and grab the contract I did up for Ashley before I left the house this morning. She joins me and I motion to the conference table where we sit across from one another. She holds up the dollar. “What is this for?”
“Hand it to me.”
She does so and I push the contract in front of her. “Sign that.”
She scans it and looks at me. “Free services?”
“Of course, free services. Sign.”
She signs and offers it back to me. “Thank you, Cole.”
“Thank me by talking to me.”
“What do I say, Cole? The man I loved lied to me and now the FBI wants to talk to me.”
“What haven’t you told me?”
“Nothing.”
“What haven’t you told me?” I repeat.
“Nothing. That’s what hurts. I believed he was who he said he was.”
“Which was what?”
“Retired military. Contract security consulting, which is why he traveled a lot. You know this. I told you.”
“And yet I never met him.”
“Because he traveled so much.”
