Page 121 of All Our Nevers

I lean farther forward with each question, daring him to contradict himself.

“But don’t worry. Even if you don’t sign it…” I take out a second binder, this one as thick as the last. “I’ve got everything I need. I mentioned Amelia is assiduous, right? Very detail-oriented, organized, stubborn to a fault.” A malicious grin creeps across my face. “And she’s kept everything. Every text you’ve ever sent, every email, every social media comment from a burner account. The handwritten letter you left at her door, which—funny enough—happens to look a lot like the handwriting on your recent case files.”

I hold up two letters in counterpoint and his face turns red. An animal in a trap, sweating and feral.

I’ve got him now, so I drive the nail home.

“Strange, that the handwriting would match so perfectly. Don’t you think a judge will find that strange, Connor? Don’t you think the firm will find that strange? Probably won’t help your chances of making partner in the future.”

“Fuck you.” It’s a pitiful, bloodless reply.

“You can choose to leave now without signing but, as I think you know, I’m a better lawyer than you. And if we take this to court, I’ll have the backing of the firm where I’m a partner and you’re not.”

Of course, the firm doesn’t know about the letter saved on my personal computer yet, the one resigning from this position more quickly than I got it.

I slide the consent agreement across the table.

“Make it go away, Connor. Fresh start in Atlanta. Seems like a pretty good option to me. A lot better than you deserve.”

He’s frozen in place, processing. His pupils dart left, right, searching for an escape, finding none. A bead of sweat falls thickly down his temple before his hand darts out to grab the pen, scraping his name in blue ink across the bottom of the agreement.

The pen slaps against the wooden desk as he stands with a final, “Fuck you. And fuck that dumb slut too.”

And that does it. In an instant I’m around the desk, fists in his lapels, shoving him against the wall.

He’s immediately limp with fear, all bark no bite, squirming under my grasp and I could kill him now. I could choke him, like what he did to her. It would be so easy—so fucking satisfying. Violence against women is abhorrent, but violence against this guy? Practically a civil good.

Yet somehow, I resist.

Instead, I lean forward, pressing him harder into the wall, breath scraping across his face as I say, “I want to make you a promise, Connor. One last thing before you leave town.”

My voice is a growl, animalistic. He responds like prey, sweat pooling, body starting to tremble.

“If you ever speak to her again,” I say, inches from his face, “if you ever even think about her, I will fucking kill you. I will buy a gun, and I will come to your house, and I will shoot you in the fucking head. And if I go to jail, it’ll be worth it. Because you’ll be dead and Lia will be safe. She matters more to me than anything, okay? More than my own life, and certainly more than yours. So please, test me. Try it. I would love the opportunity to show you how serious I am.”

He squirms under my hold, whimpering as I shove him against the wall again. His head knocks into the plaster with a dull thud.

“Say it,” I push. “Say you’ll never go near her again.”

Whatever he sees in my eyes has him frozen like the coward he is. “I—I won’t. I swear.”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” I say. “Even in Atlanta. You’ll never be safe. I will never, ever, let you out of my sight again. I’ve got no hobbies. Nothing but time. One mistake and I will have you disbarred. You’re lucky you’re getting relocated, in fact, because every sick and twisted thing you did to Lia? That’s child's play compared to what I’m willing to do to you.”

Then I let go—shoving him to the side and watching him stagger back, shrinking into the corner of the room.

“Now pack up your fucking things and get out. Wouldn’t want to linger and have HR find the documents on my desk.”

He staggers sideways out of the room, not a word more.

And then he’s gone. Out of our lives once and for all.

HR has already initiated his transfer. He’ll have the day to clean out his desk, then I’ll never see his slimy face again. And, more importantly, neither will the woman I love.

Watching Lia so bravely follow her dreams this summer, I realized that I want that for myself too. I want meaning in my work. And I have some ideas how to get there.

The lawyer friends I’ve made at the shelter have really helped with that, though at the end of the day, I realize I’m not the best lawyer for domestic violence survivors by the bare fact of my gender. Even so, there are lots of other ways to do more good than harm in my work. I even had a headhunter reach out from a plaintiff-side firm recently. We’ll see what happens, but I’m… optimistic.

I admit, my skin is already crawling at the idea of the pay cut. But really, what was all that money for? Mom is set—her mortgage is paid off. Andy and Sophie are stable. Lord knows I don’t need another watch or truck.