She’s not playing.
Okay.I debate between the chair and the coffee table. I want to be close but not too close if she decides to punch me. I guess I couldlether punch me if it will make her feel better.
I sit on the coffee table in front of her. She scowls but doesn’t tell me to move.
“Four minutes,” she says absently.
I scratch my beard. It’s probably time to shave it, but it makes me feel more confident since my sister claims I have a baby face without it. Right now, I need all the confidence I can get. “Um,” I swallow. Where do I start? “It was an accident.”
Notlike that.
Her frown deepens. “Rumors don’t start themselves by accident, Connor.”
“I know. Let me start over.” I flex my hands and then rub them against my slacks. “It’s my fault. I was jealous. I’ve always been jealous of you.” Her expression is still stony, annoyed, and angry. “You were fun to tease, but I admit, I often took it too far.”
“It started out as a bit of fun,” I say. “I enjoyed seeing you get riled up, and youwerea good distraction when my parents died. But at some point, it morphed into a competition.”
She looks past me, refusing to meet my eyes. And that kills me more than just about anything else.
“I stupidly believed if you were succeeding, I was failing.” I continue. “I was shocked when we were both hired at Harrison and Branch. I thought I’d finally managed to be as good as you at something. But then you got to work with the partners on that case the first week on the job, and I kind of spiraled. I realized I’d never be as good as you.” I scratch the back of my neck, ducking my head. I’m not a vulnerable person. I’ve never told Millie half this much. But Maddie deserves the truth. All of it.
I study the fibers in the carpet as I explain the next part. “The day the case went to trial was awful. Two of the cases I’d been researching fell apart, and everyone blamed me. The office was tense, and the frustration kept growing. I was tired of feeling like a failure and tried to find fault with you instead. When Bri asked why you got the job over me, I might have implied…” My voice trails off. She knows what was implied. Saying it now only reinforces how blind and stupid I was. And I hate that version of me.
I drag my gaze to hers and catch sight of the storm raging in her eyes. She squeezes the life out of a throw pillow, her expression severe.
“You said it once. Why are you afraid to say it now?”
A sharp pain lodges in my chest. I deserve that.
She shakes her head, her expression resigned. “How do you plead, counselor?”
“Guilty.” My voice cracks and my chest constricts. “On all accounts.”
She opens her mouth, probably to dismiss me, but I don’t want to leave with her closed up like this.
“I was an idiot.” But I never spread it around. I swear.”
“That part I do believe.” She sighs. “Bri’s the worst.”
“No. I’m the worst. I didn’t think about the consequences of a few words.”
She doesn’t say anything. I wish she would. I wish she would let out all the wordsshe’sholding inside. I know I ruined things for her in the past, but I meant what I said. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.
The timer beeps, the sound cutting through the strained silence like a deafening blade.
That’s my time. I risk one more glance at her, but she avoids my gaze. She silences the timer but continues to play with the fringe on her throw pillow. I guess it’s time to leave.
I take a deep breath, preparing for my final plea. “I’m so sorry Maddie, if I could give you my job, I would. I hate that I’ve ruined your life, your future. I’ll never forgive myself for it, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me either.” A clock ticks somewhere, but time seems to be standing still, the whole universe waiting for her to speak.
I stand and bury my hands in my pockets. “Thanks for letting me talk. You didn’t have to.” I take a step toward the door. Her eyes remain glued to her pillow. I swallow back the lump in my throat. Time to do what I should have done five years ago. “I’ll stop bugging you.”
I walk to the door, each footfall echoing through the emptiness. She hates me. I hate myself for what I did to her.
I scratch the back of my neck and stop in front of the door. I don’t want to pull it open and walk away. I don’t want this to be the last thing I say to her. I want more, so much more. But I won’t take it from her.
“That case…”
My body stills. I turn slowly.
