Reasonable Doubt: Volume 3 - Page 19/24



I took a seat in the corner and pulled out the folder that was under my arm, reading over what seemed like written receipts and accounts of money exchanges. Things I didn’t recall doing.

I pulled out my phone to text Ava, to see if this was just another elaborate joke—something she was prone to pulling, but I heard her voice.

“Fuck!” She yelled.

I jumped up and headed to where the shouting had come from, pausing once I heard a familiar voice.

“Your pu**y feels so f**king good…”

“Ahhhh….” Ava was moaning. “Just f**k me…Fuck me harder…”

I completely froze, unable to take another step. I didn’t want to believe another man—Kevin, from the sound of things, was f**king my wife or that she was cheating on me.

I couldn’t believe it. I trusted her way too much.

But, as she screamed a few more times—the same screams she yelled when having sex with me, I knew it was true.

“Is this how you always conduct business, Mrs. Henderson?” Kevin asked, laughter in his voice.

“Are you seriously going to call me that after we just f**ked?” She groaned. “Can we actually get back to work now? That’s the third interruption tonight and I’d actually like to get something done.”

“Fine, fine…”

Papers shuffled, windows opened, but I remained frozen—still in disbelief. It wasn’t until I peered through the slit of the door that my brain actually began to process what was happening.

“What are we going to do about this Ferguson shit?” Kevin asked.

“Ferguson shit? That’s what we’re calling it?”

“Oh, right. Here’s a better name for it: Five to ten years for me. Fifteen years for you.”

“I was thinking twenty.”

“Twenty?” He slammed the table. “Are you out of your f**king mind? Twenty years? Are you suggesting that we just turn ourselves in?”

“No…” she said. “Just Liam.”

“What?” He sounded appalled. “Are you joking right now?”

“Do you hear me laughing?”

Silence.

“Ava, look…” He sighed. “Liam is like a brother to me—”

“Says the man who’s currently f**king his wife…Some brother you are.”

“This is a mistake.”

“A mistake would be one time,” she said, lighting a cigarette. “Once a day for the past few years isn’t necessarily the same thing. Sorry.”

My heart sank.

“It was a mistake, Ava.” He looked conflicted. “Tonight was going to be the last time anyway. I can’t keep doing this to him.”

“I don’t want to stop.” She walked over to the window and sighed. “I can’t…”

“What?”

“He doesn’t give me what I need anymore…”

“You’ll have to find a way that he can. Now actually might be a good time to start, seeing as though he might have to be your lawyer.”

She turned around in tears. “Is this really the last time?”

“The first time should’ve been the last time.” He walked over and massaged her shoulders. “You were only using me…You tend to forget that.”

“I wasn’t—” She choked back a sob. “I wasn’t using you…”

“Yes you were.” He kissed her lips. “And that’s okay. I sympathized.”

“Did you think I was a horrible person?

“No.”

“You promise?”

He nodded, cupping her face in his hands. “He couldn’t give you a baby and you wanted one…Naturally…That’s completely understandable.”

I held back a gasp.

“He doesn’t f**k me like you do...” she whispered.

“Stop it, Ava.” He kissed her cheek. “Stop it.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore.

I couldn’t take it.

As the two of them kissed and held each other—completely immersing themselves in their own world, I forced myself to walk away.

I hit the lights in my office and noticed a bright blue box on my desk. It read, “To: the love of my life. From: Your first and only love.”

My heart ached again as I tore the wrapping and looked inside: A new set of cufflinks, a set that probably cost more than all of my suits combined. My initials were engraved in them, and she’d enclosed a quote from my favorite authors:

“Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of life much so. Aim above morality.”

-Henry David Thoreau

I sighed. She’d left out the last part of the quote, the “Be not simply good; be good for something.”

I pulled out my phone and sent her an email:

Subject: Coffee.

I think I will try some coffee…Are you still at the coffee shop?

—Liam

Subject: Re: Coffee.

Yes. I think I’ll be here all night.

What kind would you like?

—Ava.

Subject: Re: Re: Coffee.

Whatever you think is best for a first timer…

Have you talked to Kevin today?

—Ava

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Coffee.

Not at all. He’s been weirder than usual lately. (We really need to find him a girlfriend…) Have you?

—Ava.

I didn’t answer.

I left my office and walked over to Emma’s playroom, looking at her as she slept peacefully. I wanted to make her wake up, make her look at me, so I could study her features and pick them apart, so I could see for myself that she was indeed Kevin’s, but I couldn’t.

She was mine, biological father or not.

I carried her out of the firm and rushed home. As soon as I set her down, I flipped over the coffee table and opened the envelope I’d filed away hours earlier.

It was a standard summons, a demand to appear in court, but the charges listed didn’t end on one page. They didn’t even end on two.

It was a ten page manifesto, a laundry list of bullshit that I would never attempt: bribery, racketeering, tax fraud, mail fraud, wire fraud—every f**king fraud.

What the hell is this?

I pored over the documents for hours, my mind racing a mile a minute. Still, I couldn’t completely process everything—my mind was still thinking about Kevin and Ava.

How she’d lied to me.

How he’d lied to me, too.

And now, this.

The door opened at five in the morning, and Ava set a hot cup of coffee in front of me.

“We need to talk,” she said.

I said nothing. Just closed all the folders and looked at her.

“I just got served by the SEC…” She paced the floor. “Served, like legit papers…They came to the firm and—”

“I thought you were at the coffee shop.”

“I was.” She swallowed. “I stopped by the firm after getting your coffee so I could pick up a few things.”

“Was anyone there with you?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed. “Look at what time it is. Anyway…”

I couldn’t hear anything else she was saying. I could see her lips moving, make out some of the sounds that were coming out of her mouth, but the lies she’d just told me were blocking out everything.

“Why are you cheating on me?” I blurted out, suddenly annoyed by the tears falling down her face.

She sucked in a breath and looked me up and down. “Liam, the SEC has just unreasonably served me papers. Are you seriously accusing me of infidelity right now?”

“I’m not accusing you. An accusation would imply that there’s a chance you could be innocent. Why. Are. You. Cheating. On. Me?

She toyed with the gemstones on her necklace. Then she started to hum the refrain of a classic Sinatra song, “New York, New York.”

“Don’t make me ask you again, Ava,” I said. “I know you’ve f**ked Kevin.”

Her eyes finally met mine. “Fine…Yes, I f**ked him. Now, what?” Tears formed in her eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I never thought I would cross the line with him of all people…”

“You told me Emma was a surprise…” I said. “That you didn’t want to have kids until we were in our mid-thirties.”

Her face paled. “You were at the office tonight weren’t you?”

“I was…”

Silence.

“So,” I said, mentally putting together the puzzle pieces. “Either you’re lying to him about me not being able to give you a baby—because last time I checked, right before Emma was miraculously conceived, you were still making me wear condoms and we weren’t even trying to have a f**king baby. Or, you’re lying to me, and you just wanted to f**k my best friend for an ulterior motive you’re saving for later. Which is it?”

“I still love you, Liam, It’s just—”

“Which is it?”

She said nothing, she just stood there with more tears falling down her eyes.

I held up one of the folders I’d been reading through. “I was looking through these tonight…At first, I thought they were standard mail-outs that you’d signed for me while I was gone or too busy, standard office supply orders, things like that…”

“Where’d you find those?”

“But it turns out,” I said, ignoring her question, “That these are all f**king favors from judges and clerks that I don’t recall asking for. Ever.”

“Liam...”

“Is there anyone in this city that you haven’t f**ked to get something in return?”

She looked as if she actually had to think about it.

“I send you flowers every day—every. f**king. day.” I stepped forward. “I tell you that I love you and that you complete me, every day and this is what I get in return?”

“I understand how you feel, Liam, but—”

“No, you don’t f**king understand.” I clenched my fists. “I’ve never even entertained the thought of being friends with another woman. I make sure everyone knows I’m completely unavailable, that no one else stands a damn chance.”

“I cheated for your benefit, Liam. I did it for you.”

What the f**k?

I’d heard a lot of bullshit in my life, but that line officially took the cake.

“How do you think you won the Luttrell case?” She wiped away her tears and narrowed her eyes at me. “You think you did it with your award winning rhetoric and charm?”

“Do you have a mental disorder that you failed to tell me about?”

“I f**ked the judge three days before the verdict. You were going to lose. And if you lost that case, there’s no way some of our current clients would’ve picked our firm to handle their account.”

“Our firm?”

“You think you built it alone?” She laughed. “Liam Henderson, warm-hearted, loyal, and too nice for his own f**king good? Please. I had to intercept every contract you sent out and redraft half of the terms. If I’d left it up to you, your firm would be nothing more than a pipe dream. You should be thanking me because you have no idea how much work I’ve done to put you where you are.”

“You’ve never argued a single case.”

“No, but I’ve f**ked a lot of powerful people to make sure you never lost one.”

“I’ve never lost because I’m a damn good lawyer.”

“And I’m a damn good lay.” She shrugged. “Of course, my own husband has been so busy this year that he probably wouldn’t even know.”

“You’re blaming me for throwing your pu**y around?”

“I’m shocked you even know what the word pu**y means.” She hissed. “We lay in bed together every night and you never want to f**k me.”