𝐂 𝐡 𝐚 𝐩 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫  𝟒

     I cancelled all my appointments for today. I should have been in my suburban house, tucked in bed and forcing myself to sleep, or watching another episode of Law & Order, but I ended up in a bar blocks away from my house. I finally succumbed and came down here.

     I picked a bottle of beer from the plastic pail, glancing at the stiff menu on the table. I decided against ordering anything. My stomach wasn’t ready to receive food at the moment.

     The bar wasn’t filled up, which was surprising, looking at the time. I had expected several locals, but there was only a man in an expensive suit sitting with his back to me and a couple who occupied a booth. All the better for me.

     I took a big gulp, then lowered the bottle. A melancholic song I didn’t recognize played in the background. I wasn’t such a big fan of songs. No wonder I couldn’t remember this one, but I listened. The lyrics were so sad I wanted to tell the bartender to put it off.

     Detective Spade now harbored the thought I had something to do with my clients’ deaths. Great. He was a tenacious cop, and I was certain he’d show up at my workplace tomorrow with a warrant from the court. I’d divulge what I knew. I lifted the bottle and downed the rest, picking another from the pail.

     “You look like you could use some company,” a manly voice said.

     My fingers froze halfway to the pail. I instantly recognized the voice. I knew it like the back of my hand. It belonged to a man I had shared a past with. What was he doing here? He was the last person on earth I expected to bump into today.

     Sighing, I went for the beer and sank onto the sofa. “What are you doing here, Garry?” I asked without looking up at him. He must’ve been the man with his back to me. Why hadn’t I made him out?

     “It’s nice to see you again, Avery.” He pointed to the empty sofa staring blankly at my face. “May I?”

     I shrugged and brought the beer to my lips, taking another swig. A chill ran down my spine. I shivered. I was drinking too much.

     He slid into the booth and threw an arm over the back of the sofa, then loosened his tie. “I saw you from the counter when I turned. I’m surprised to see you here.”

     I finally lifted my head and peered at him, zeroing in on his expensive suit, the Rolex on his wrist, and then his fingers. At the sight of them, my eyes widened. He still wore our wedding ring. His blond hair, which was always cut down to size, was tousled. His dull eyes penetrated mine. He looked tired like I was, but I showed it better than him. Even in this state, his handsomeness hadn’t waned.

     “You expect me to believe this is a coincidence?” I said.

     He leaned forward and grabbed a bottle, cracking the lid open with his teeth. “If you want to think otherwise, go ahead.”

     He still wore his straightforwardness. That aura which had made him a successful lawyer, and one of the best in Beverly Hills. I wasn’t expecting anything less. Moreover, I didn’t think he’d waste his precious time following me. Workaholics like him always had something to do, which was one of the reasons I was shocked to find him here just as he was surprised to see me in a cheap bar.

     “How long have you been here?” I asked, curling my fingers around the bottle.

     He sipped. “Three hours... four. I don’t remember.”

     “I didn’t see you when I entered,” I admitted.

     “You didn’t look closer,” he said, gesturing to my dress with fingers that were busy cradling the beer. “What’s with the outfit?”

     “I went to a funeral.”

     His brows arched, concern plastered on his oblong face with sharp jawline. “You lost someone?”

     “Yeah. A client.” Tears stung my eyes.

     A sombre silence fell. Death had this uncanny way of changing mood. The door to the bar slid open, and several strangers spilled in and filled a booth. A waitress skittered to them.

     He stopped drinking and placed the bottle on the table. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

     I murmured, “Thanks.”

     When he ran a hand through his hair, I noticed the white tape on his hairline. “Tough day?”

     “Yeah.” Cowering in his seat, he said, “I lost a case.”

     That explained why he was here. I didn’t sympathize with him, but we had both suffered a loss, and we were here drowning our sorrows. This sounded just like a coincidence knowing he’d lost a case. He loved to win, so this loss was going to be a headache for him. I wondered what he was feeling. He wasn’t one to show emotions, but I saw disappointment in his eyes.

     “I’m sorry,” I lied.

     He stared at my face, as though he didn’t believe the white lie.

     “I know you’re not, Avery. You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said, his voice filled with sadness. “I’m sorry. I never stopped thinking about you and Mathew. Can you forgive me?”

     I sensed tonight was going to be sorrowful. Memories I had shut down for the past years gushed in. My fingers trembled. I reached for the bottle and took a long gulp. Replacing it, I said, “Why’re we suddenly talking about this?”

     “We’ve been avoiding this conversation for a while now. I know you still hate me and you think I’m a monster. I can’t change what you think, but at least I want to make things right.”

     My lips quivered. “I don’t hate you, Garry. I’m just disappointed. Every time I see you, I remember Mathew.” Tears rolled down. I wiped them with the back of my hand. “You weren’t there when he needed you the most. You bailed on us. You know the worst part?”

     I clenched my teeth. “I had to lie to him about your whereabouts.”

     “I’m sorry.” He moved forward and touched my hand.

     I withdrew it from the table. For the next few seconds, we sat in silence.

     A waitress who looked like she hadn’t slept in three days walked up to our booth. “Do you need anything else?”

     “No,” we said in unison.

     “All right. I’m over there. In case.” Her footsteps faded in the background as she turned away.

     “I know I wasn’t the best father to Mathew. I should—”

     “You could’ve just turned down that case. Mathew was sick. Our son needed you. You chose work over family,” I cut him off. “It wasn’t difficult. You made it so, and I can never forgive you for that.”

     His pupils dilated. He picked the bottle, emptied the content, and sighed.

     Shifting my eyes from him, I stared out into the night through the large glass panel window. One or two commuters walked down the tree-lined pavement. Several cars passed by, their headlights scaring the dark off. It’s late. I should get going. This wasn’t how I expected my day to end. From attending the funeral of Rosalind, speaking to Detective Spade, and now bumping into the man who shattered our family, I’d call it a day.

     I grabbed my purse from the seat and stood. Vertigo gripped my senses. I plopped down on the sofa, my head hitting the arm.

     Garry sprang up and hurried over to my booth. “Are you all right?” His voice sounded worried.

     I hated the fact that he was worried about me. If he was still wearing our ring even after our divorce, then he hadn’t remarried. I doubted he was in a serious relationship. He was such a sweet spouse, except that he was a workaholic too.

     I raised my hand, shooing him away. “I’m fine. Don’t touch me.” I bent down and fixed my Louboutins. Another attempt to stand and I came crashing down. Luckily, I landed in Garry’s arms. I would’ve hit my head again.

     “I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive. I’m taking you home,” he said sternly.

     My eyes glazed over. I drawled, “You’ll do no such thing. Without my permission, it’s called kidnapping. I’ll...” I trailed away. Seconds later, I heard and saw nothing.