Reparation

“I’m just curious if there is room in your heart to forgive him. I’m not saying you have to ever be friends again, but forgiveness goes a long way toward having a peaceful heart.”


Matt considers my words. He stares at me deeply, chewing on his bottom lip. But then his gaze hardens. “I’m sorry, Mac. I just don’t have it in me. I’ve worked really hard to put it behind me and move on. Please don’t ask me to do more than that.”

My heart sinks a tiny bit, but I also completely understand Matt’s feelings on this.

I understand, and I respect them.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask.

“I want you to promise me you’ll end your friendship with Cal and have no further contact with him.”

I smile at him. I smile at him in sadness and understanding. Pushing up onto my knees, I crawl across the couch and climb onto his lap. I’m relieved when his arms come around me to hold me tight.

Laying my cheek on his chest, I whisper. “Okay… I’ll do that for you.”

His lips press into my hair, and he quietly says, “Thank you.”





True to my word, I called Cal and explained what was going on with Matt and that he had asked me to cut ties. Cal was extremely understanding but was also sad to be losing a friend. I was very sad, too, because I genuinely liked Cal and understood his side of the story. I wasn’t giving up though. I would continue to work on Matt.

Speaking of Matt… I was hoping to see him soon. He’s been in a trial all week and working late, late hours, so we haven’t had any time together other than a few stolen moments in the morning before he’d head off to court. He would always call me late at night when he was finally leaving the office, usually around midnight, just to say goodnight.

I missed him and couldn’t wait for this damn trial to be over with, so I could have him back.

The phone on my desk buzzes, and I can see that it is Bea calling me. Picking it up, I drawl, “What’s up?”

“He’s a fifteen again,” she whispers. “He just barreled through the doors, and he’s pissed. I think he lost the trial.”

Slamming my phone down, I take off for Matt’s office, my heart sinking. He’s going to be devastated as he was so invested in this case. Just as I round the corner and see Matt’s office, I catch a glimpse of him stepping inside and slamming the door behind him.

I walk—okay, run—toward his office and don’t even bother with a knock. I open the door, slip in, and shut it behind me. Except, the door pushes open, moving me out of the way. Bill walks inside and shuts the door again.

Matt is pacing back and forth, anger all over his face.

“What happened?” I ask quietly.

Snapping his head my way, Matt glares at me. “What do you think happened? I fucking lost the case.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Bill urges. “We didn’t even have that much money invested in it.”

Matt spins around, and I swear I see flames leaping from his irises. “It’s not about the fucking money, you jackass. My clients’ lives are screwed up. The judge totally fucked us on the jury instructions.”

Stepping forward, I hesitantly lay my hand on Matt’s arm. “Is there an appealable error?”

The fire seems to die out of his eyes, and he takes a deep breath, letting it out in one big rush. He picks up my hand, which is resting on him, and brings it to his lips, giving me a tentative smile. “Yes. There are several errors for appeal. I’ll have you help me get the Notice filed.”

Glancing over my shoulder at Bill, he says, “I’m sorry I yelled, Bill.”

Chuckling, Bill heads back out of the office. “No worries. And I think Mac is better equipped to deal with your snarly ass than I am.”

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