Page 84 of A Secret and a Lie
Suddenly, the two attorneys turn, facing the courtroom as they amble back to their tables. As soon as Stafford takes a seat next to Gen, I track the almost imperceptible hitch of his lips at the corner. The relief that floods me is so strong that my chest threatens to cave in.
I twist my wedding ring around my finger as the judge addressesthe court. “I am dismissing this case without prejudice on grounds of spousal privilege as Ms. Watts’s husband is refusing to testify against her. The District of Columbia is free to refile charges, should additional, sufficient evidence become available.”
There’s a low rumbling that rolls through the courtroom that reminds me of a stampede forming in the distance, but Genevieve won’t be trampled.
They’d have to present evidence that didn’t include me next time if they want the charges to stick. I doubt any of her clients are going to be willing to testify against her, not when she still holds their secrets over their heads.
Everyone rises as the judge leaves the courtroom. He’s barely through the doorway before a grinning Genevieve is turning toward Stafford, clasping his hand between both of hers. Her beautiful lips form a plethora of grateful remarks, and he nods politely.
She promptly turns around, and as if a siren had called to them both, Gen and Corinne throw their arms around each other, smiling as they murmur in each other’s ears. As Gen moves to embrace Marcus next, Marshall Potter catches my attention across the room.
Fire dances in his gaze and the look he pins me with saysthis isnotover.We won the first fight today, but I’d be stupid to think that means we’ve won the war.
I dip my chin in his direction, relishing the satisfaction that the scowl forming on his face delivers.
Glancing away, I meet Genevieve’s sparkling hazel eyes. Her lips don’t quite form a smile, but they hold a gentleness that was notably absent during our last encounter.
“Thank you,” she says on an exhale, and my heart sings. Maybe, just maybe, she can move past my betrayal and the fact that I had us married without her consent or knowledge. Maybe there’s still hope that we can get back to the dynamic we had when she first sauntered into my office and dropped to her knees because she wanted me. Maybe she’ll let me kiss her again because once will never be enough.
I nod and force my pulse to slow now that the fantasy of finallygetting to live the life I used to dream about has become reality. “Ready to go home?”
Her chest expands with a deep breath, and I’m certain she’s biting back a retort about thehomein question belonging to me, but she manages to swallow it. She makes her way to the aisle where I meet her, gesturing for her to go first. Her attention snags on my left hand, and she stares at my gold band for a beat too long before striding ahead of me.
Disappointment sluices through my veins, but I shove it down. We have bigger issues to contend with, like the hoard of press outside.
Genevieve
The ten-carat emerald-cut eternity band sits heavily on my slender finger. I don’t know why I’m attempting to hide the ring from him, but something about allowing Ford to see that I wore it today makes it feel like he’s won. While I should be grateful—Iamgrateful for what he’s done to free me—I still don’t want him to think I’ve forgiven him or that I accept this sham of a marriage. I haven’t and I don’t.
A hand falls to the small of my back, and I stiffen as I resist the way my body wants to melt into Ford’s touch. When will my body and brain synchronize?
Reporters swarm even before our small group has even managed to leave the courtroom. Ford moves to my right side, his hand still resting on my back, the warmth seeping into my bones. Marcus takes up sentry on my other side, and I glance over my shoulder to find Corinne and Stafford following closely behind.
The moment we push through the throng of screaming insects, my gaze meets that of Ethan and Liam, and I don’t bother to hide the genuine smile that skims the surface of my face. Liam’s eyes sparkle as he winks at me, while Ethan simply nods before leading us farther into the hallway, the rest of the security team Marcus put together closing in around us.
Looking at Marcus, I smile, murmuring a sincere, “Thank you.”
His eyes soften for me the way they did more than a decade ago while the rest of his face remains impassive.
Camera bulbs flash and phones are thrust in our faces as our group navigates the deafening chaos. I’m figuratively wounded, and the smell of my blood permeates the air, summoning the hungry scavengers.
The moment we step outside, we’re met with oppressive sunshine andmorereporters. News outlets line the sidewalk below us, but the podium set up halfway down the steps is what captures my attention.
We make our way to the podium, and Stafford takes a few questions that I tune out. I should’ve known that a press briefing would be part of this charade, but I had no idea that I’d become front-page news. And here I’d assumed one of my many clients would’ve stepped in to keep the story from running.
Somehow reading my mind, Ford leans in, his breath skating across the shell of my ear and making me shiver. “I learned that vultures don’t pass up juicy stories, even for money.”
He tried.Did any of my other clients?
“This seems too convenient,” a reporter shouts over whatever Stafford is saying, making me blink as the statement slashes across my mind. I grind my teeth. I don’t want to be here anymore. “Are you even in love?”No.
My heartbeat feels like it’s a kangaroo on cocaine. Can everyone see my pulse point thumping madly as if it’s attempting to break free from the column of my neck?
“Was this just a marriage of convenience?”
“You’re just a whore,” someone else shrieks.
Even as questions and more insults continue to be hurled at us like rotten tomatoes, my face remains neutral.
