Page 9 of Words We Didn't Say

He didn’t say, “I love you.”

Zach

Say the word ‘lawyer,’and most folks imagine the guys in the movies. You know the kind I mean. Confident. Big dick energy. That lawyer swaggered into a courtroom in a slick suit, swept back a full head of hair, and smirked at the jury because he had a trick in his back pocket to win the unwinnable case.

But areallawyer? Someone like me?

I wore an expensive suit. A few wayward strands of silver had made an unwanted debut around my temples, but I still had the same mop of dark hair I’d been failing to tame all my life. I’ll be honest, though. I’d never swaggered…anywhere.And a courtroom? Me in front of a jury? Once.I’d puked. That’s right. All over the floor.

My client had taken one horrified look at the vomit splattered on his sneakers, leant over, and whispered, “You sure you’re a lawyer?”

Top of my graduating class.

But if my boss had taught me anything—and, truthfully, Chris Stone had taught me everything about being a lawyer—it was that my success didn’t begin and end in that courtroom.

Brains and hard work counted at Worley and Stone. Grinding in solitude behind a desk was valuable. I had a future. For a kid who’d grown up in the western suburbs of Sydney, poorer than dirt, the promise of never living pay cheque to pay cheque was worth never seeing the sun…

Most of the time.

Yawning, I adjusted my glasses and squinted at the computer. Another night, another contract. The long list of clauses blurred into smudged black lines, and my fingers were sluggish over the keyboard with each tap, tap, tap.

I refused to even acknowledge the shaky stack of files parked in the corner of my desk. I hadn’t touched a single folder on that pile, and it was already—I glanced at the computer—ten o’clock.

My phone buzzed.

Eden

Miss you, handsome man xoxo

Eden’s message tugged a smile out of me. The curve of my lips was rusty. Strange, even. It was the first time I’d smiled all day. I quickly responded.

Zach

Miss you more. xx

Eden

Is tonight a wait-up night?

When would I head home? My gaze cut to the pile of work still untouched on the desk. I grunted. At this rate, I’d never leave. I couldn’t fail. Not now.

Not…again.

Promotions—a chance at partnership—loomed closer. The arrogant prick with the receding hairline three offices down was just itching for me to implode. He wasn’t the only one. Worley and Stone may have been my home, but running the gauntlet of the office was survival of the fittest. Worse. It was the Ministry of Love—if you’d snuck under the school steps to read1984as many times as I had.

And now, I had Eden to think about, too. I needed to build stability for the two of us, and I couldn’t dump all the worries about mortgages and how much life costs on her shoulders. She was a hairdresser. How much could she possibly earn? Minimum wage? She avoided every awkward conversation about family and money, but she shouldn’t have to rent a fancy frock to wear to her birthday party.

My groan echoed in the empty office.

The birthday party.

The cake had been a big win, but I’d been late, and she’d frowned when she saw the earrings. When we’d tumbled through the door at 2:00 a.m., she’d unbuckled my pants without any ceremony, pushed me on the sofa, climbed on top, and edged me almost to insanity, all while wearing a defiant glare. Hot. I’d wanted it. But sex was a barometer with Eden. When the pressure ratcheted up to cool, detached, and her in control, she was pissed off. That night, she’d been furious. She probably still was. It was just another awkward conversation she preferred avoiding.

Screw it.

I flipped my laptop shut. Impossible deadlines disappeared. I slipped on my jacket, straightened my collar, and adjusted my tie. Armour on.

Zach

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