Chapter 30 - The Husband I Buried

Then

Nothing ever happens the way people warn you it will. Even falling in love.

The night I fell for Luis, there was no lightning. No grand declarations. No sense that I was stepping over a line I wouldn’t be able to come back from.

We were lying on the floor of my apartment, backs against the couch, the movie we’d put on hours earlier long finished. A half-empty bottle of wine sat between us, forgotten. The city hummed through the open window. Sirens called somewhere in the distance, laughter drifting up from the street. A train rattled somewhere below, as if it were a million miles away.

Being with Luis felt effortless.

‘Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,’ I said, mostly to fill the quiet.

Luis smiled. Not stalling. Deciding what to share.

‘How many secrets do you have?’ I joked.

He laughed. ‘I’m good at walking away,’ he said finally.

I frowned. ‘From what?’

‘From situations that aren’t going anywhere,’ he replied. ‘People, too. Friends. Girlfriends. I don’t drag things out. If something isn’t working, I leave before it turns ugly.’

It sounded reasonable. Healthy, even. The kind of self-awareness therapists seemed to find important.

‘That’s not really a secret,’ I said.

‘It is,’ he replied softly. ‘Most people don’t like admitting how easily they can detach.’ He reached for my hand then, tracing the inside of my wrist with his thumb – slow, absentminded, like he was memorizing the shape of me. It was something he did when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

I searched his face. ‘Have you ever regretted walking away?’

His gaze met mine, steady. ‘Regret doesn’t help anyone.’

It sounded like something you’d say after doing some heavy soul-searching.

‘But that’s not really my secret,’ he added.

‘OK,’ I said, rolling onto my side so that I was facing him.

For the first time that night, his easy confidence slipped. Just enough for me to see what was underneath.

‘I’m good at walking away, but I don’t think I could walk away from you,’ he said. ‘No matter what.’

The words settled low in my chest. Warm. Heavy.

I didn’t answer him with words. Instead, I leaned toward him, closing the space between us, my mouth finding his, as if I’d been waiting all night. He kissed me back with a hunger that surprised me, pulling me closer, pulling my shirt up over my head, tracing his way back down my arms. He unhooked my bra and pulled it free, pulling me gently toward him until there was no space left to doubt what he meant.

Our bodies moved against each other until there was nothing but breath and heat, the soft city noise drowned out. The world narrowed to the feel of his body against mine as my legs wrapped tighter around him.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads touching. Luis brushed his thumb along my jaw, pulled the throw rug from the sofa and covered us as we lay there.

‘Your turn,’ he said quietly. ‘Something you’ve never told anyone.’

‘I don’t like losing control,’ I said finally. ‘Not just in court. Anywhere.’

But that was exactly how I felt when I was with him. Like I wasn’t in control.

He didn’t interrupt. Just watched me.

‘When things start to spin,’ I went on, ‘when I can feel the ground shifting, something kicks into gear. I don’t wait for permission. I act.’

‘That’s why you like winning,’ he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

‘I prefer results,’ I corrected. ‘I’d rather ask forgiveness than permission.’

‘The world doesn’t reward hesitation,’ he said.

I nodded, relieved he hadn’t recoiled. Relieved he hadn’t looked at me like I’d just confessed something ugly.

He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my lips. ‘We’re the same that way,’ he murmured.

At the time, I thought he meant ambition. Drive. Discipline. Later, I’d understand he meant something much darker.

We stayed on the floor long after the wine was gone, talking deep into the night. He asked about my childhood, my first case, the moment I realized I liked standing up in a courtroom with everyone watching. I asked about his time overseas, careful not to push where he wasn’t ready to go.

He told me stories that were funny, self-deprecating. But he also told me just enough about his time in the army to show how it had changed him.

We were still on the floor, the wine bottle empty and tipped on its side like it had given up on trying to stay upright. I told him about a client I had who kept bringing me blueberry muffins. ‘Even after I told her I hated them,’ I said. ‘She was about as unlikable as her muffins.’

‘Why’d she keep bringing them?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. I think it was all she could make.’ I laughed. ‘But I defended her anyway. Not because she was innocent – she wasn’t. But because she would’ve folded under pressure and admitted to more than she had actually done, just to make it stop.’

‘Why did you defend her if you didn’t like her?’

I looked at him like I didn’t quite understand his question. ‘If I needed to like everyone I defended, I’d go out of business,’ I said. ‘I just need to believe they shouldn’t be crushed. That they deserve a chance.’

He turned his head toward me then, his expression unguarded, something warm and genuine breaking through.

‘See,’ he said without thinking, ‘that’s why I love you—’

He stopped. The air shifted.

I lifted my head, looking at him. ‘Did you just say you love me?’ I teased, trying to keep it light, like my chest hadn’t just tightened.

He didn’t joke it away. Didn’t retreat.

‘I did,’ he said simply. ‘I wasn’t planning to. It just . . . came out.’

I searched his face, waiting for doubt, for backtracking. Nothing.

A smile crept over my mouth before I could stop it. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘Because I was just thinking I might be falling for you.’

He exhaled, pulling me closer. We kissed slowly.

Much later, when he finally fell asleep beside me, one arm heavy across my waist, I lay awake listening to his breathing, feeling absurdly content. Like maybe we’d found something special. I remember thinking how rare that was – to show someone your sharp edges and know they wanted you anyway.

I curled up in his arms and drifted off to sleep.