Page 97 of The Potter

My “state,” as he calls it, is another glass of bourbon away from being shitfaced. “You’re smarter than this, Astor. Clearly, the deposition went swimmingly.” I hold up the glass, indicating I’m being completely sarcastic.

“What happened? Did Calista say anything to you?”

I shake my head. “Worse, she cried—couldn’t even stay to hear me finish.”

It was a memory I will never get over. My best friend’s wife looked as if she could vomit right there on the conference table, shaking her head as I went through Logan’s record, staying professional and answering only the questions asked by Calista’s attorney. Richard advised me to stick to the facts and keep my eyes from drifting to Calista.

I lasted an hour before I looked over, saw her sobbing silently, and got up. Richard tried to stop me, but all I could see was her and Logan, gathered around the bar in my basement, drinking, laughing, and talking about the old times in college. I couldn’t stand the sight of her just sitting there, breaking down with no one to comfort her.

But it wasn’t my comfort she wanted.

I get that.

She wanted Logan back.

“She said she’d wished it would have been me who died,” I admit to Astor. “I agreed.”

Astor springs from the chair, his emotions not dulled by the alcohol like mine. “Fuck, Vance! Don’t say that. Logan dying was tragic, it was. But you’ve seen death before, brother. We’re doctors; we see death.”

“When was the last time you had a patient die?” I challenge, watching as his face falls. “That’s what I thought. You haven’t. So, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t feel the same way. Logan was like a brother to me.”

Astor comes to stand in front of me, snatching the glass from my hand. “Then, as a brother, you should know how it feels when one thinks that he deserves to die because of an event he couldn’t control.”

“But Icouldcontrol it!” I jump up, meeting my brother chest to chest.

“No, you couldn’t! You like control, Vance. I get that. But, brother, you have to accept that you have none. Control is a figment of your imagination. Just like perfection, it can never be achieved.”

I try pushing away, but Astor downs the last of my bourbon and shoves me instead. “Logan’s death was not your fault.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I sit down, my eyes suddenly heavy.

“I know that you’re destroying your own life to atone for something you had no control over.”

“Go to hell, Astor.” I’m so over this conversation. All I want is for this lawsuit to be over. Richard seems to think the deposition went down beautifully. I showed concern by attempting to comfort Calista—apparently, a jury eats that up. But I don’t care what the jury thinks. It won’t change the fact that I lost two people who were like family to me.

“Get up. I’m taking you home. Maybe Halle can talk some fucking sense into you. I’m done.”

“Thank fuck. I didn’t ask for your mommy wisdom.” I really deserve to be punched.

Astor chuckles. “Well, someone has to be the one to tell you how stupid you’re being.”

Stupid.

Richard said something similar today. “Richard doesn’t think we should offer Calista a settlement.” Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back to my shoulders. “This is where you offer up that mommy advice of yours.”

Even I felt bad when I said the words. I’m being a monster dick, and I can’t seem to stop. I just want the pain to end.

I hear the breath Astor releases. “Man, I don’t know. On one hand, you didn’t do anything wrong, on the other, Calista won’t drop the suit. Dragging either of you through a trial will be messy. We all saw what happened today with a deposition just down the hall in our conference room. I can’t imagine the state we’ll get you back in after a trial, when Calista’s attorney goes after your sunshine-filled personality.”

I raise my middle finger and flip him off.

“I don’t say this often, little brother, but I agree. Settle this case. If you don’t, I’m afraid there will be nothing left of you.”

Halle’s asleep when I get home.

That fact should have been comfort enough.

But it wasn’t.

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