Page 105 of The Potter

Let the forgiving begin.

The cemetery where Logan is buried is this patch of land with rolling hills and open space behind a small, white church. It’s nothing fancy, but Logan wasn’t all that fancy, either. He would have thought a mausoleum was too pretentious for his body to rest for all eternity.

He would have been proud of his wife, who chose a spot on top of a hill, looking into the sunset, with a joint tombstone with her name on the other side, waiting to join his.

Dr. Johnson would find it interesting that I don’t hate the thought of having my name next to the person I love—knowing that, even after death, we’ll still lie next to one another. But what’s more, is the name that flashes in my head is the one I pushed away, sending her to California in tears.

Dr. Johnson was right about one thing. I did have a routine with Halle. I still have a routine, technically. She’s just not at Clyde’s when I drive by in the morning, slowing down as I pass by. On her office desk, her pen still lies there exactly as she left it. And every evening, when I go home, I stretch before bed, leaving her side untouched.

Despite all of the same routines, I don’t sleep. I’m emptier now than I was before Halle came into my life. It’s frankly concerning, and I’m certain if Dr. Johnson or my brothers knew about my habits, they would have me assessed at a hospital.

Halle would understand, though.

She’s always had a way of seeing through my bullshit, pulling out the pieces I wanted to keep hidden. And now… no one challenges me. Once again, I can come and go as I please, keeping the demons on a long leash. They didn’t go away with Halle and the lawsuit. Like the pain, they linger, waiting for me to figure out how to manage this new life of mine, full of regret and disappointment.

“Dr. Potter,” comes a soft voice at my side, where I’m sitting at the foot of Logan’s grave.

I turn and lock eyes with Calista. “Is that who I am to you now? Dr. Potter?”

Tears are already gathered in her eyes. Two weeks ago, I gave Richard the directive to settle the case with Calista by offering her a lump sum settlement. It came with the conditions that I would not admit liability or give up my license or practice in any way.

Richard nearly had an aneurysm, since he clearly thought we could have won at trial, without any sort of settlement. But I still cared about Calista, no matter how awful she’s been during this lawsuit. She’s still family, and if a settlement helped her move on, then I wanted to try. Granted, I know money can’t heal grief, but giving Calista some sort of win against me could push her in the right direction.

Both of us need to move on. Getting the lawsuit behind us was a start.

And according to Dr. Johnson, forgiveness is the next step.

“I—” Calista starts then stops, her chin quivering as her gaze roams back to Logan’s headstone.

“He would have preferred a black headstone, you know?” Calista’s head whips back to me, and I force out a grin. “Don’t act so scandalized. You know it’s true. He would have wanted to look like a badass.” I wave a hand at the white granite. “This white is purely your style.”

It takes a minute of her just staring at me, shocked, before she starts chuckling. “You’re still an asshole.”

At least it’s a step up from a killer.

“You’re right, Dr.—” She pauses, swallowing hard. “—Vance.” Her voice lowers as she repeats my name. “You’re right. He would have hated the color, but like the home we built, he got to pick the land, and I got to pick the house. I thought it was fair since this would be our last home together.”

She chokes on the last bit and sobs.

I just react, pulling her into my arms. She comes easily, and I hold her tightly, like Logan would want. “I’m so sorry, Cal. So fucking sorry.”

Her fists beat weakly against my chest. “I miss him so much, Vance. I can’t eat. Can’t sleep.”

Her words hit me straight in the heart. “I miss him, too,” I say softly, rocking us back and forth until she relaxes in my arms, gripping my shirt and burying her face into my chest.

“He would hate what I did to you.” She snorts out a pained sound. “But I couldn’t do anything but cry…”

Unfortunately, I understand what she means. “You needed a focus—something to get you through the day.” A distraction from the pain.

“Yes, but I shouldn’t have made that focus you.” She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her.

“We all deal with grief in different ways,” I assure her. Though I would rather she have not attacked my credentials and practice, but I get it.

“You were our family,” she agrees, pulling back and wiping away her tears. “And I blamed you. I knew Logan would have disagreed, but I just couldn’t stand to go home… to see his toothbrush… his leftovers in the fridge. It was more than I could handle. I just wanted you to feel the pain of losing everything you loved.”

“Calista,” I sigh, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I had an immeasurable amount of pain. Logan was like a brother to me. I may not have experienced his loss the same way you did, but trust me, the pain was there.” Really fucking there.

Calista pulls back to look me in the eyes. “I know, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t see anything but my own pain. I know you loved Logan.”

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