Chapter 34: Edwards - Hunter or Hunted

The Hearing

Simone, her lawyer, and Gwen were out of the courtroom in heartbeats. Edwards only had enough time to give her a smile before an officer he knew from the academy, Tyler Morgan, caught him in the hall. He started on a tangent about an arrest he’d made last night. Something to do with a DUI. Cop small talk.

Edwards, known for his friendly nature, nodded and agreed with a periodic, “That’s wild, man,” watching Simone in his peripheral. She stood with Gwen and her attorney near the towering walnut French doors. They exchanged a glance or two, one with Gwen as well, but Tyler kept running his mouth.

Gwen’s look said more than Simone’s glance. Her eyes widened, glanced at Simone, then fell back on him. As if to say, C’mon, dude. You’ve got an opportunity here. Take it.

Edwards wanted to. More than Gwen could even begin to understand. Standing there, only a dozen yards from Simone, an invisible tether stretched out between them. His focus should’ve been on Tyler. That was the polite thing to do. But even from here, that floral, fruity perfume pulsed from her skin toward him. It floated through his nose, carrying with it the memory of that night. The night he’d stood close enough to draw it deep into his lungs.

When they’d danced together at Mallory’s party, Edwards swore the world stopped spinning. His and hers were the only beating hearts in the galaxy. It’d been some time since he’d seen her smile—really smile—but that night, even if only for a few moments as they danced on that patio, her smile encompassed all the cosmos. The stars overhead had twinkled off her eyes like polished diamonds, unearthed from eons and eons of pressure and friction.

Then the scream.

Then that muddled, messy conversation in the driveway. Edwards didn’t even remember what he’d said. On Gwen’s word, Sebastian told Edwards he hadn’t screwed anything up. He just hadn’t done enough.

Edwards had spent the last three weeks searching for the words, the time and place, to address it. To offer Simone what he’d wanted to begin with. A real date, a real start.

He’d rehearsed it in his mind a thousand times. In those fantasies, he was the hero. Simone’s lawyer asked for Edwards’ testimony, so he stood in the crowd and declared it all. “Your Honor, Angela Burke has been harassing the Black Pines Police for months. I can only imagine the pressure she’s put on Simone. This wonderful woman, this goddess of beauty, this saint of a mother, has done no wrong. She just wanted a fresh start away from the chaos, away from the abuse. She finally had it, and this monster and his mother are doing everything in their power to destroy the beautiful world she’s built for herself. All she wants is some peace, some calm. She can’t have it when she has to deal with that woman.”

In the fantasy, the judge smacked the gavel, then Simone leapt into his arms, and the crowd cheered for them to kiss.

Obviously, the fantasy proved to be only that.

When Simone won, he started conjuring up another. In this one, he declared his affection in the busy courtroom hallway, Simone leapt into his arms, and the crowd again cheered, “Kiss! Kiss!”

But Tyler was still talking, and Gwen’s wide-eyed darting glances were narrowing.

Simone spared Edwards one more glance as she and Gwen turned and started out the door.

The fantasy vanished.

He couldn’t let it vanish.

“Yeah, it was nice catching up,” Edwards said, eyes on Simone as the cold wind rushed in. “I’ve gotta head out, though, man. Shoot me a text sometime. We’ll grab a beer.”

Tyler started to stretch out the farewell, but Edwards was already jogging to the doors.

Simone and Gwen were halfway down the steps. The metal bar handle thwacked as Edwards burst through the door. Simone jolted, and the two of them looked over their shoulders in tandem.

“Hey,” Edwards called, winded. He smiled. “Do you have a minute?”

Gwen smirked, giving Simone a pat on the back. “I’ll go get the car.”

Simone shot her a look.

But he needed to make this right. Maybe he wouldn’t be the hero, but he could make this right.

Simone forced a smile for him. “Sure. What’s up?”

As Gwen skipped down the steps, Edwards approached Simone, giving a smile as well. “I just wanted to say congratulations. Kind of a weird thing to congratulate, I guess, but you won, and you deserve a congrats.”

“No weirder than the mess that brought me here.” Fixing her purse higher on her shoulder, Simone crossed her arms. “But yeah, thank you. It’s a relief. The custody dismissal more than anything.”

“I wasn’t worried about that part.” Edwards awkwardly stowed his hands in his pockets. “You’re a great mom. No one’s gonna take your baby away.”

The cool wind floated jet-black hair before her face. “That means a lot. Thanks.”

“It’s just the truth.”

Simone nodded slowly. Obviously, because how else would she respond to that?

“Look, uh,” Edwards began, wetting his suddenly dry lips. “I’m sorry about New Year’s. The way it all panned out, the way I reacted⁠—”

“We don’t have to do this.” Simone frowned and shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I appreciate that you stood up to her and everything, but you shouldn’t have had to. We should just go back to how things were, you know? Before it got messy and weird and now we’re avoiding eye contact when we pass on the street, and I don’t want that.”

Edwards swallowed hard. “You wanna go back to how things were?”

“It’s better than how things have been, right?”

An odd sound escaped him. Something between a laugh and a huff. “It’s not where I wanted things to go.”

Simone nibbled her bottom lip, raising her shoulder. “It’s how things turned out.”

“But I don’t want things to be like this,” Edwards said. “I want—I wanna take you on that date.”

Silence.

She stared deep into his eyes, and he swore he saw that same desire in hers. Simone wanted what Edwards wanted. He knew it. He knew she wanted it too, but she said nothing.

“I should’ve asked you on a date to begin with,” he said. “I thought the party would be cool, ya know? Me and Sebastian, you and Gwen. I thought it’d break the ice. And I figured it’d be a low-pressure way for Junie to get used to me being around. But it just created a lot more tension, and that’s neither of our fault. It would’ve been great, it was⁠—”

“It was messy.” She accented that word with a certain clarity. The same clarity in her voice when she spoke it a few moments prior. “It’s all messy with me, Edwards. I’m messy. My life, my kid, everything about me is messy, and you don’t want this⁠—”

“I do,” he said quickly, certainly. “I want you and all the mess that comes with you.”

Her frown stayed, but a sigh accompanied it now. “Edwards⁠—”

“Just wait a second. Hear me out, alright?” He reached out, hands slow and hesitant as they closed around her shoulders. “I knew what I was getting into. The moment I met you, I knew all the baggage. I read the reports you filed against David. I took your statement. I know what you’ve been through, and I know that shit never really goes away.”

“Then why?” Her tone stayed soft, almost neutral. Not confused, not combative, but soft. Because she wanted this too. “You’re good, Edwards. You’re a good man. You’ve got a good life and a good job and just a good everything. You can fit your baggage in a carry-on, and I need an entire plane for mine. Not to mention Junie’s. And just because you can rationally understand what I’ve got going on doesn’t mean you wanna carry it, and that’s okay. You don’t have to want this.”

“But I do want it,” he said. “I can’t tell you why.”

And he couldn’t. He didn’t know what it was about Simone that made his heart skip a beat or heat rise to his cheeks.

So many things about his feelings for Simone made sense.

Her best friend was dating his best friend. At least, his old best friend. He and Sebastian drifted after Sebastian took in Lizzie because back then, he wasn’t ready for that stage of life. He’d wanted independence in his twenties, but now, forty was right around the corner, and he wanted companionship. Family.

Simone did too. She already had one, a beautiful one, no matter how messy its origin.

And that was the only thing that didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t have wanted the mess.

But that was just it.

Simone wasn’t messy. She saw herself that way because of her past, but she’d busted her ass to clean up that chaos. She was free of it now. Even the courts agreed.

“That’s the problem, Edwards,” Simone said. “You can’t say why because⁠—”

“I can, though,” he said. “I mean, it’s complicated, right? Because you’re complicated. Everyone’s complicated. But I—You’re amazing. You came from hell, and you’re still living to tell the tale. You started your whole life over because you wanted something good. For you, for your daughter, for your future, and that amazes me.”

Her eyes softened, posture under his hands soothing with it. “That’s sweet, but⁠—”

“There’s no but, Simone,” he said. “I see dark, screwed-up shit every day. It’s my job. It’s my life. I’m not afraid of some trauma. I want someone who gets it. Someone who knows that there are bad days but keeps standing through them. You’ve got that. You’ve got strength and drive and power.

“I know you think the worst parts of your story make you worthless, but you’re wrong. They’re what made you strong. And I want someone strong. And smart. And beautiful.” He swept a long black wave behind her ear, watching her eyes grow dewy with each word he spoke. “And kind and caring and compassionate. You’ve got all that. And I want that in my life. I want you.”

Blinking slowly, eyes gentler now, maybe glassy, she opened her mouth to speak. But no words came out.

“Do you?” Edwards whispered, holding her cheek in his hand. “Do you want this?”

“I… I think I do, but⁠—”

“Then don’t push me away.” He trailed his thumb over her cheek, then over that parted, silky bottom lip. “We can figure out the bad shit as it comes, but this, us, what we’re doing here, it’s good. We can be great, Simone.”

Her eyes were so wide, so soft. She didn’t say anything. Edwards couldn’t tell if it was because she had nothing to add or because she was too dazed to speak.

“Tell me no, and I’ll walk away,” he whispered, leaning closer. The heat of her breath warmed the chill on his cheeks. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

She said nothing.

She lifted a hand to his face, trailed it around the back of his neck, and tugged him in.

Their lips met, and there it was again. The world stopped spinning. His and hers were the only hearts beating in the galaxy.