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“The trial,” he murmured. The words carried a weight of their own. “It’s coming up. There’s going to be a great deal of media coverage, a lot of old wounds reopened.”
His fingers paused briefly on her back before resuming their comforting motions. His other hand found hers, his thumb tenderly caressing the back of her hand. The act was soothing, yet the storm brewing in her mind was relentless.
Dante’s gaze burned against her skin, seeking to understand the whirlpool of emotions she was wading through. “It’s going to be tough,” he added, the reality of his words making the room seem smaller.
Her words were a whisper when she voiced what plagued her mind, “Will I have to testify?”
Resolve and empathy etched Dante’s features, as he met her gaze. “Only if you’re ready, Rebecca. There’s no pressure. You’ll have the entirety of the Ranch’s support behind you and I promise, you and I… we’ll get through this together, no matter what.”
His assurance was a warm embrace against the cold fears, chilling her from the inside out. But the question of testifying hung in the room, a specter that threatened to cloud the afternoon sun’s warmth, casting long beams of light around them.
She snuggled closer to Dante. His arms wrapped around her tighter, as if he could shield her from the past. As Dante pressed a tender kiss on her temple, the unspoken pact of facing the storm together was silently sealed.
She pulled her eyebrows together and her forehead puckered as she remembered something odd. “What did Mr. MacIntosh mean by our side?”
The question hung between them, a delicate thread of inquiry. Dante’s eyes were unflinching, but Rebecca could see the layers of unspoken stories within them. He sighed, a slow release of breath that carried a burden of truths not yet shared.
“Well, darling, I’m a defense attorney,” Dante began, his voice even but his eyes hinting at apprehension.
His voice was steady, but Rebecca could feel a slight tremor in the hand that held hers.
“It’s not black and white, Rebecca,” he said, his eyes earnest as they met hers.
She stiffened and silently waited for him to continue. His thumb brushed over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm, yet it carried an unspoken plea for understanding.
“There are times when I stand beside individuals, defending them, because it’s their right to have a defense.” Dante’s gaze drifted beyond her, perhaps lost in the myriad of courtroom battles he’d fought.
“But... some of them are like Evan?” Her voice quivered slightly as she navigated through his words.
His gaze refocused on her, and he acknowledged her. “Yes, some are like Evan,” he admitted. In the following silence, the words sat heavy between them.
His other hand came up to cup her face with infinite care, his thumb brushing away the ghost of a tear that threatened to fall. “But I also fight for those wrongly accused, for justice, for a system that, despite its flaws, strives for truth.”
Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand, a silent acknowledgment of the complex tapestry of his profession, the gray areas that were as much a part of him as they were a necessity for justice to prevail.
The heaviness of his world settled around her, offering her an alternative lens through which she could see the man before her. The murky waters of Dante’s profession were vast and deep, yet his unwavering belief in justice seemed to be his guiding light through it all.
Her Dante, with his moral compass, often stood in defense of individuals reminiscent of the monsters from her past. The realization was a bitter pill, a stark contrast to the gentle, loving man who cradled her through the haunting nightmares, and who chased away the demons lurking in the shadows of her memories.
“You defend criminals?” Her voice was a fragile whisper, trembling with disbelief and creeping dread. The question hung heavily in the air between them.
His hands, which had always been a source of warmth and reassurance, suddenly felt cold as they tenderly cradled her face, his eyes seeking forgiveness within hers. But the enormity of the revelation was like a widening chasm, a torrent of emotions threatening to engulf her.
His lips moved, a soft murmur navigating the turmoil in her mind. But her heartbeat thundered loudly in her ears, drowning out the soothing cadence of his voice. The tears that escaped her eyes weren’t a reaction to the revelation. Instead, they were a mournful farewell to the simplistic understanding that once cocooned their lives.
As Dante held her, in a desperate attempt to bridge the sudden distance between them, Rebecca knew the tectonic plates of their shared reality had shifted. The cracks were small but irrevocable, each a painful reminder of the complex world they were now forced to traverse.
The tears continued their descent, tracing the lines of a face that sought solace in the familiar, yet found an unfamiliar, raw understanding instead. The world she knew tilted on its axis, revealing a harsh, uncomfortable truth. And as silent tears etched their paths down her cheeks, she knew they were sailing into uncharted waters. The compass of hope was her only guide through the storm that awaited.
CHAPTER 21
The warmth of Rebecca’s body against his was a stark contrast to the icy dread coiling within Dante’s veins. The look in her eyes was like a veil had been lifted. It revealed a harsh truth that cast a long, dark shadow upon the love they nurtured. He wished he could’ve shielded her from this part of his life, a part that now threatened to build a wall between them.
Dante cupped her face with his right hand, his thumb brushing away a tear that streaked down her cheek. However, he could feel the tremor in his own hands. The room around them faded, leaving nothing but a palpable space filled with Rebecca’s unspoken accusations and his silent pleas for understanding.
His job, a duty he had carried with righteousness and dedication, now felt like a blemish. He maneuvered through the gray waters of the legal realm, defending those whose innocence was shrouded in doubt. And today, those waters seemed to have the power to drown the trust that had bloomed between him and Rebecca.
He took a shuddering breath, attempting to formulate words that could mend the fissures that had formed in mere moments. But the words seemed futile.
