Overlooked(1)(97)
Despite everything, despite the betrayal, I can’t shake the feeling that I did something awful with this. Yes, she betrayed me, but does it count if it’s with the guy she’s legally attached to? Do two wrongs make a right?
Fucking Vivian and her morals. I need to purge her from my head, too.
“You need to dump those soon. Bolster your case so it can be over as fast as it starts. No three-day plea for you.”
“He should not.” Geoff shakes his head. “That’s falsifying evidence. That’s a felony.”
“Does it count, though, if it’s in family court?”
“You guys really are the worst goddamn attorneys I’ve ever met. Do you know what morals are?”
“No.” Paxton grins. “Because I’m an attorney.”
Geoff rolls his eyes and mutters something about fulfilling stereotypes. I ignore him and flag Becky down for another shot. I watch her carefully to make sure she doesn’t top it off with water. I paid my way through UCLA by bartending. I know all their tricks.
“You need to shred those pictures.” Geoff taps my shoulder. “Don’t screw yourself over in the process. Let them destroy each other and walk away with clean hands.”
“Nobody in this fucking town has clean hands.” I mutter.
“Oh, give that shit a rest.” Geoff rolls his eyes. “I’m so tired of listening to this ‘woe is me’ routine where you pretend you’re so persecuted against because you live in one of the largest and most thriving towns in the country. Corruption is everywhere, Eric. You aren’t special because you live here.”
“Can it, Geoff.”
“No. You have to stop acting like you have the worst goddamn job in the world. Everyone has to deal with shit at work. Have you ever had to represent a murderer? No? You just get to sit in your cush office and cast judgment on how other people live their lives? Boo-fucking-hoo. It’s so hard to be Eric Stevens.”
I shove my chair back from the table and throw on my jacket. “I don’t need your shit. Not from either of you. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“We hear you bitching enough to know.”
“Whatever. I don’t have to explain myself.” I throw down two twenties on the bar and storm off without another word.
CHAPTER THIRTY
KATE
The toilet is my new best friend. Fifteen minutes after my last round of hurling, my cheek is still glued to the cool porcelain seat. I’ve never in my life been more grateful for a housekeeper than today.
Clean toilets are the best toilets.
I don’t even know what day it is. What time of day it is. Wonderland has officially chewed me up and spit me out. For what I can only assume has been the last four days, I’ve completely lost a sense of reality.
I’m caught up in the current of karmic bullshit and spiraling into oblivion. Also, maybe I’ve watched too many soap operas lately and the drama is now infused in my soul. That happens when you’ve done nothing but eat club crackers and puke everything else up.
“Kate?” Lily calls from the front of my apartment. “Where are you?”
I left the top latch undone so she could find me. So I could stay on my porcelain pillow and not move. Moving is terrible. I’m not even certain what is making me so sick at this point. It could honestly be a dozen different things. Or all of them at once.
“Oh, honey.” Lily says, trying to keep the pity out of her voice and failing. She sits next to me and feels my forehead. “You look miserable.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” I groan. “It’s so much worse than it looks.”
“Maybe it’s not? Okay, shit right now is really bad, but it could always be worse, right? Give me a minute, I’ll think of something.”
“Don’t bother. I’ve spent all day brainstorming. It’s still shit.”
“I brought wine. It might settle your stomach?” Lily sets the bottle next to me on the floor. My favorite Pinot Grigio. “I can get one of those super long crazy straws so you can drink it from right here.”
I shake my head slowly, in case I upset anything left in my stomach. “Can’t.”
“I can stash it in the fridge until you’re back on your feet. There’s nothing wine can’t cure.”
“Oh.” I draw the word out with a shaky breath. “I’ve found something.”
“Did you already have too much?”
I unfurl my fist braced against the floor and hold the pregnancy tests out for Lily to see. Her face cycles rapidly from confusion to horror. She takes them from me and studies each one for an eternity. Turns them upside, flips them over, looks again. Repeats the process for each.