Page 20 of Finding Our Reality

What I meanisthat I hoped she’d grow closer to them once I was out of the picture.

She straightens in her seat. “I saw my parents four times since the day I left this town. That’s it.”

What? Is she serious? I’ve seen my parents more than that. And they are both in jail right now. “Are you serious?” She tilts her head, not even gracing me with an answer. Of course, she’s serious. “Why?”

“Let’s just say we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left.”

When she left.

I may not have searched for information on Lulu, her family may not have talked to me about her, but you can’t live in this county and not knowthisabout her.

“Yeah…” Don’t ask. I chant the mantra to myself, over and over and over. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Of course, I ask. “I heard that you got married right before leaving town?”

“Then, you obviously heard I got divorced too.”

I did.

Drops of sweat run down my back. “Hudson?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

I can’t even form a response. I do know the answer and it makes me want to projectile vomit. “So, how long have you and Hudson been divorced?”

She reaches around, rubbing the scar on the back of her neck. “This is really what you wanna talk about? You know most people talk about the weather or the news or sports when they are on a business lunch.”

“We’re not most people.”

She tosses her hands up. “Fine. This coming August—the very beginning of August— will be three years.”

I quickly do the math in my head. “So, you were married for nine years?”

“Yes, the judge signed our final divorce decree the day before our ninth anniversary.”

I click my tongue against my teeth. “So, you got married when you were eighteen? In August? After you graduated high school in May?”

What I really meanisyou got married two-and-a-half months after I left you? The ink was barely dry on our break-up letter, and you married someone else. Someone you swore was just a friend. While I was off at MCRT, learning to defend our country, some other guy was sticking his cock inside of you, on your wedding night, on your honeymoon.

She’s rubbing her neck so hard she’s probably giving herself a rash. “Yep.”

The server’s voice catches us by surprise. “I have a salad for the lady and a cheesesteak for the man.”

Chapter 9

ELLA

“You’ve had your nose buried in that computer for two days straight.”

I glance up, watching Holt drink straight from the milk jug. Turning back to my screen, I insult him. “It’s called having a job, Holt. I can’t help it if you’re an unemployed lazy bum.”

I’m trying hard not to laugh, but when he throws a cheese cracker in my direction and it bounces off my forehead, it’s a moot point. Giggling, I pluck the cracker from the countertop and pop it in my mouth.

“What have you been working on anyway? Carrie’s case?” he asks.

“No, these past two days, I had to catch up on work from some of my clients.” I sit back, scooting the barstool away from the counter so I can stretch my arms without knocking anything over. “Since lunch, I’ve been working my way through twelve months of text messages between two college-age kids—boyfriend and girlfriend. You wouldn’t believe how many text messages young people send. It blows my mind. There’s no way I sent a quarter of the messages that these kids do.”

He puts the milk back in the fridge and seals the box of crackers. “Why are you having to go through their text messages?”

“They are accused of credit card skimming. She’s saying he did it all on his own. He’s saying it was all her idea. I’m in charge of reading through the thousands of text messages to compile the ones that have any possibility of having something to do withthe case. I then have to index everything, chronologically and by reference to certain aspects of the case.”