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And I shot someone. Someone who wanted to kill me and my son.
It’s harder to see the black and the white when you’re in the middle of the gray.
I finish wiping the counters—for the third time—and shut out the lights in the kitchen. Leo is gone for the night, spending the night with AJ at his grandparents’ house. I’m supposed to meet June for drinks at the bar down the street.
It’s been surprising how few people have questioned my and Leo’s disappearance. I’m not sure if it’s a testament to whatever Nick might have handled behind the scenes or if most people are just too wrapped up in their own lives. Leo’s school reenrolled him without question. The law firm wrote me a glowing recommendation, saying they wished they could hire me back but already filled my position.
Part of me was relieved since it means I won’t have to run into Michael every day. I have an interview at a different law firm on Monday. As much as I’d love to do something different, it’s where my experience is. And I need a steady paycheck more than I can afford to be picky.
I know June will have lots of questions tonight.
I lock up and head outside. It’s still chilly, but it feels like there’s a warmer undertone to the temperature. A distant hint of spring. I wonder what the estate looks like in warmer months. With green grass and leaves on the ivy.
Forcibly, I shove the wondering away. June is waiting at the front of the bar when I walk inside.
“Hey! How are you?”
“Good. It’s nice to be back,” I lie.
June smiles and gives me a hug. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I say, squeezing her back.
The bar is crowded. It’s a struggle to push through the crowd. And a wait to order drinks. June gets a cabernet while I deliberate.
“Do you have…” I try to remember the French words that flew so effortlessly off Nick’s tongue. I can’t remember. Moments are already beginning to feel distant. I’m sure it’s an expensive wine anyway. “I’ll just have a vodka soda. Thanks.”
We make easy chitchat as we wait for the drinks. AJ’s ninth birthday is coming up soon, and June is starting to plan the party. She fills me in on the disastrous bake sale at the elementary school a couple of weeks ago.
Once we have our drinks, we snag a free table tucked alongside the wall.
“So now that we have alcohol…how are youreally?” she asks.
I smile wryly. It’s a little reassuring, knowing someone knows me well enough to tell when I’m lying. “I’m okay. It’s nice to be back in some ways. Just…weird too.”
June sips on the red wine she ordered. “Your call was vague, but it was a relief. I was sure something happened to you.”
“I would have thought the same thing. I’m sorry for worrying you. It was sudden and hard to explain. Even now, I’m not sure what to say.”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” June says. “I’m just happy you’re back and everything is okay.”
I nod, and she smiles.
“Have you talked to Michael since you’ve been back?”
I shake my head. “No. I think that’s over. We weren’t…it never felt right, you know?”
June raises both eyebrows. “I remember saying that. You said, and I quote, ‘He’s the perfect guy.’ What happened?”
“I fell in love,” I admit.
June’s eyes widen. “What? When? Withwho?”
I exhale. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to work out.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated. He just—he’s not a good guy.”
