Page 140 of Dissection of a Murder
Jack is so forgiving, so balanced. I found it difficult at first. I was brought up to be cynical, to always see the worst in people. He’s the exact opposite.
“Me too.” I smile, tracing my finger up his torso and onto his chest. “It’s just…messy.”
“We could make it simpler.”
I wish I was as laid-back as him. I wish I didn’t have the constraints I do.
“You know it’s…difficult,” I tell him again. It’s what I always tell him in a bid to convince myself, because considering doing anything about it is too terrifying.
“Just leave him and we can go somewhere. Anywhere. Away from here.”
“Jack…”
“I know it’s only been five months, but I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you.”
And the stupid thing is, I’m sure, too. Is that crazy? I’ve never felt anything like this before. We can heal each other, I’m sure of it.
“I want to. You know I do. But I can’t just leave. I’ve got my job—a job I’ve worked so hard for—and he wouldn’t make it easy for me.”
Jack kisses the top of my head and strokes my hair, letting meknow it’s OK. He gets it, how conflicted I am. He’s the only person who understands.
“I can’t stand the thought of you going back there to him.”
Neither can I.
“He would destroy me. Julian Kesler KC can’t have two women divorcing him. I need time to figure out the right way to do it.”
I’ve become used to it now, the sense of dread gathering around me as I approach the house. Not knowing what I’ll be hit with first—the parade of subtle put-downs or the sneaky, controlling behavior. There exists now a familiarity to his quiet nastiness, and I feel like that little girl again—trapped—living at home with my father. I promised her I’d get her out, but I dropped her straight back into an environment just as harmful, and now she’s too frightened to leave. Again.
“I just wish I could take you somewhere, protect you.”
I’m not the kind of woman who cries. I don’t get emotional; I never have. Crying was only ever used to manipulate a man or get something I needed. But, right now, here, I have to try hard to stop myself.
“I’d like that, too,” I tell him. He has no idea how much.
We lie in the heat for a few more minutes, just taking in the time we have together. The bright blue sky and cotton wool clouds through the skylight, our rhythmic breaths that always sync when we lie beside each other, the atmospheric notes of “You’ll Never Walk Alone” by Gerry and the Pacemakers. I like to have music on when I’m here so I can listen to it later and think of him.
“What did you think of me when you first met me, that day I first represented you?” I ask him, out of nowhere.
A broad smile spreads across his face. It’s the kind I love, the one that shows off his dimples. He hasn’t shaved for a few days, so he looks rugged and wild. His black hair frames his beautiful face and makes his blue eyes pop.
“Honestly? I thought you were just like me, which was weird for a lawyer. And down-to-earth. Smart. Beautiful.”
Hearing him say that makes me light up inside.
“Say we did run away.” I sigh. “Where would we go?”
“I’ve always wanted to visit Australia.”
“That’s the goal, then. Even if it’s in five, ten years’ time. We’ll walk down the street in Sydney, holding hands, no sneaking around. Nobody will know us or care who we are. How does that sound?”
“I thought you told me not to trust lawyers?” he says, frowning at me jokingly.
“Don’t use my own words against me!”
He pulls me closer to him and places his hand on the side of my face, kissing me slowly, softly, sensually. He’s so close I can feel his heart beating against mine.
“I love you,” he says. It’s the first time either of us has said it. I’m glad he said it first.
