The smell of something burning has me running into the kitchen where I find a flustered Charlotte and two grinning boys to either side of her.
Taking in the scene, my heart stutters. Despite the chaos of flour everywhere and dirty dishes piled on the counter, the boys look so content and I could see this as being or commonplace… well, minus the plumes of smoke coming from the waffle maker.
“I thought you said you could cook,” I tease Charlotte, knowing it will make her blush that beautiful shade of pink.
“I miiiiight have stretched the truth a little.” She shrugs her shoulders as she wipes the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a trace of batter behind.
Unable to help myself, I walk over and remove it with my thumb, making sure to suck it off for the benefit of her hungry eyes. The way they linger on my mouth lets me know she’s dying for a repeat of last night. And to be honest, so am I.
But we can’t. I need to double down on what strength I possess to keep myself from touching her.
“Miss Charlotte is helping us make waffles, dad.” Max smiles so wide I can practically count all of his teeth.
“Is that so? And who’s idea was this?”
“Mine.” Charlotte wrings the napkin in front of her, averting my gaze. “I told Sylvie she could take the morning off and that I’d handle breakfast. It was a little ambitious of me, but I wanted to help with something. I can’t just sit here all day and not contribute in any way.”
“Oh, I can find a couple of things for you to do.” My voice lowers as a finger trails down her back, and I immediately reprimand myself for playing this way. It definitely won’t lead to anything good, and all it’s doing is leading poor Charlotte on. “I’m sorry about that. It was out of line. What I meant to say was that there is plenty for you to do here if you’d like to help. But how about we leave the cooking to the experts?” I grab her hand and walk her to the other side of the counter, plopping her down on one of the barstools before resuming my place between the twins. “What do you say, boys? Want to help me make miss Charlotte some French toast and bacon?”
“I get to crack the eggs!” Matt beelines it to the fridge pulling out the carton as we all chuckle, the merriment of the room making me see this is something worth fighting for—lazy mornings with these three is definitely something I could get used to.
Charlotte
The lawyer Aiden hired was able to make a house call, something I’m extremely grateful for. Despite my willingness to leave the house yesterday, I’m not quite ready to face the outside world just yet.
“Mrs. Ruther—”
“Please, call me Charlotte.” I cringe hearing my married name. I don’t want to be associated with that asshole one second longer than necessary, and that definitely means dropping his last name like a rotten hot potato.
Mr. Thompson smiles knowingly as he sits back in the wingback chair across from mine.
“Charlotte then. It’s not my customary practice to make house calls, but I understand we have a bit of a special situation here.” He looks over at Aiden who’s made sure to join us for this meeting per my request. He has a shrewd mind, and I’d like him in on what we discuss. Besides, he already knows most of the facts.
“We appreciate you coming in to speak with Charlotte, Jacob.” Aiden doesn’t smile, ever the stoic presence in the room, but I see the gratitude in his eyes.
“Anything for the men of WRATH. Y’all have been very instrumental in a lot of my cases. The least I could do is come and help a friend in need.” Turning back toward me, his expression does a full one-eighty—from joyous to concerned. “Now, to business. It is my understanding the senator has been physical with you on multiple occasions and we actually have evidence of him doing this on video. Normally this type of evidence wouldn’t be admissible if the accused hadn’t given consent to be recorded in a setting that would have been deemed private. However, because he hired the security firm, it explicitly states in their agreement that surveillance was to be installed throughout the home. This is our loophole around any possible claim that would bar its use in court.”
“So, what you’re saying is that millions of women across the world can’t surreptitiously record evidence of their husbands beating the shit out of them because it’s an abuse of their partner’s privacy?! That’s absolutely insane!” My voice pitches and I have to remind myself that I’m still a lady, despite the shit show I’m currently in.
“In most cases, they can try to admit the evidence, but if the accused has a good lawyer who can dispute the admissibility of the evidence, then no. The jury would not be allowed to see it. It would boil down to the victim’s word versus that of the accused.”
My blood boils at the injustice of it all, and I make myself a promise to do something to change this. As long as I have breath in me, I will fight for a woman’s right to defend themselves against the monsters of this world.
“Char?” Aiden’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. Blinking my eyes, I see that both men are looking at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry. I missed the question, if there was one. What were you saying, Mr. Thompson?”
“It’s okay. We can take a break if you need a moment.” His sympathetic eyes narrow as his brows scrunch together like two furry caterpillars and it takes everything in me not to giggle.
“No. I’m fine, thank you. Please, let’s continue.”
“Very well. I was stating that our next move depends on what you’d like the outcome to be. So, what is your dream scenario, Charlotte?”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and speak the words I’ve felt for so long, “I want to be free.”
Aiden reaches over and squeezes my shoulder, the warmth from his grip radiating down my body and making me feel whole.
Opening my eyes, I give him a small reassuring smile before turning back to Mr. Thompson, “What I would like to do is to be free of the senator as quickly as possible.”
“I see. Well then, I suggest we move forward with filing for a dissolution of marriage. We will keep it as quiet as possible, but I can’t promise anything given the senator’s position and the fact that we don’t know how he will respond to being served with papers.”
A vision of Preston flinging a document at the process server has my stomach roiling. Needing to get the image out of my head, I quickly change the subject.
“I wanted to ask… What is your take on speaking to mutual friends. My sister, specifically.” Yes, I understand that referring to my sister as a mutual friend is pretty fucked up. Family should have your back, always, but Clara and I never had that type of relationship.
“I would refrain from talking to anyone until we have a protective order in place. Until then, if you must speak with someone who might be connected to the senator, keep things vague and brief.”
Out of my periphery I can see Aiden clenching his jaw, his displeasure evident. Well, tough shit. I’m not going to let anyone keep me from what little family I do have.
“Okay, so now that we know what I want, where do we go from here?”
“My office will work on getting the appropriate petition filed as well as securing a protective order and getting the senator served. In the meantime, please be aware of your surroundings and who you talk to.” Mr. Thompson turns toward Aiden before continuing. “But I know you are in capable hands with the men of WRATH on the job. You know my daughter still asks about you, right Aiden?”
Aiden’s bronzed skin flushes a deeper shade and something in me stirs. Does he have a history with her?
“Please send her my regards. I’m glad she’s doing well.” Aiden’s tone is flat, but his skin is still betraying his emotions.
“I will, but you can tell her yourself when you see her at the wedding.” Mr. Thompson rises from his chair as he turns his attention back to me. “Charlotte, we’ll be sending over a copy of our agreement and be in touch with any updates. If you have any questions in the meantime, please don’t hesitate on reaching out to me or my staff. We are at your service.”
“Thank you again for your help. I look forward to putting all of this behind me.” Squeezing this man’s hand, I see the recognition in his eyes. He understands. One broken soul acknowledging another.
The weight of his stare almost makes me forget about his daughter. Almost.
