Fleeting Moments

“You might not like it, but you and I both know it’s the only choice we have.”


He turns around and stares down at me, his face tight. “No, it isn’t the only choice.”

“You give me another one, and I’ll back down,” I challenge.

His jaw tics. “I’ll go and end the fucker myself.”

“And go to jail?”

He growls.

“Or get killed?”

“Fuck, Lucy. You’re asking me to risk your life.”

“He won’t kill me,” I say, but I’m not entirely sure I believe that.

“Until the holy one above tells him that’s what he has to do.”

I reach up and cup Heath’s jaw. “He’s not going to kill me if he believes I’m on his side.”

“He won’t believe it.”

“He will.”

He shakes his head. “No, he’s fuckin’ smart. He won’t fall for it.”

“If we make it believable enough he will, Heath.”

“Fuck me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not okay with this.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You have a broken fuckin’ wrist. You get stuck in there, you won’t be getting out so easily again.”

“Except this time you’re going to be right there, watching me.”

“I don’t like it,” he snaps.

“Heath, please,” I say softly. “I was there that day; I saw the lives taken. I need to do this. I need to do this for them, for the girls in there who have no choice. I need this.”

He looks away, his face so twisted with emotion it hurts me to see.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Dammit, baby,” he says, his voice weak. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I say, reaching up and cupping his face, turning it back towards me. “But I am asking you to support me on this.”

He exhales and turns his cheek into my palm. “I’m not getting a choice, am I?”

“No.”

He curls a hand around the back of my head and brings my face to his chest. I curl my arm around his waist and we stand there, hanging onto each other for long, long moments.

“I’ll do it,” he says into my hair, “but I am not okay with it.”

“I know that,” I whisper.

“Don’t you let him hurt you.”

“He won’t.”

He kisses my forehead and pulls back. “Let’s get this show on the road then.”

“There’s something I have to do first,” I say, dreading it.

“What’s that?”

“I have to go to mediation with Gerard tomorrow.”

He exhales loudly. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You need me to do anything?”

I look up at him, studying his beautiful features. “Just be you.”

He smiles. “Always.”

Always.

I hope so.





CHAPTER 26


“Welcome, ma’am,” greets the mediator. He’s an older gentleman, maybe in his early sixties, and he’s got really deep brown eyes. He quickly puts me more at ease with a gentle handshake and sweet smile. “I’m Clive.”

I step into his office and glance at Gerard and Heather. My jaw gets tight but I keep my cool. Gerard takes one look at me and leaps up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Gerard,” Heather says, her mouth tight. “Sit down.”

He sits, but concern is etched into his features.

“I’m fine. I had an accident with a fence,” I say, and it’s the truth.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I smile weakly.

“Gerard,” Heather hisses.

He looks away and back to Clive, who is studying all of us.

“Please take a seat, Lucy,” he says in a fatherly tone. “Do you have anyone with you?”

Heather snorts. “Did you bring your imaginary friend?”

I want to beat her. I really, really want to beat her.

“No,” I say through clenched teeth. “I don’t have anyone here with me.”

“Then shall we begin?”

I nod and avoid eye contact with Gerard as I sit across from him and listen.

“We’re here to basically try and avoid a messy divorce and time in court. My job is to help talk you through all of this so we can come to a clean agreement and have you both moving on as quickly as possible. We’ll start with the house, shall we?”

I nod.

Gerard nods.

“Lucy, what are your thoughts on this?”

I glance at Clive and take him in. He genuinely seems kind and fair.

“I thought I’d like to keep the house, but lately, I’ve considered selling it.”

It’s a thought I’ve given serious time to. Living in the house I shared with Gerard for all those years just seems . . . wrong.

“And you’re willing to split the proceeds of the sale with Gerard?”

“Of course she is. She has to,” Heather snaps.

“Ma’am,” Clive says. “Please refrain from speaking unless directly spoken to.”

Ha. Sucked in, bitch.

She clamps her mouth closed and glares at me.

“Of course I’m agreeable to a split,” I say. “It’s his home, too.”

“The split, without children, is usually fifty/fifty.”

“Her parents helped purchase the house,” Gerard says. “I think she should get sixty percent.”

“Gerard!” Heather snaps.

“It’s fair,” he mutters, not looking at her.

“And are you okay with this, Lucy?” Clive asks.

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