Page 136 of The Wrong Side of the Law

“I’m an asshole, Emily.”

“I’m not going to disagree with you.” I cross my arms and sink back into my own overstuffed armchair, withdrawing as far as possible. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him close his eyes and grimace.

“It took me a long time to understand,” he begins, but I don’t let him continue.

“Really? I figured out that you’re an asshole pretty quickly.” I know I shouldn’t lash out at him like this, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

“… to understand why I was being that way.” He ignores my interruption. “It took someone else rubbing my nose in my bullshit before I could finally recognize that it reallywasbullshit.”

I keep my mouth shut. I don’t trust myself to speak, and I close my eyes against the tears that are just now starting to fall. Why did you have to come here, Gabriel? Why are you doing this now—right now—when I’ve finally made the choice to move on with my life?

“I have a duty to the people of this judicial district, Emily. And I have a conscience, too. A moral compass. A sense of right and wrong. And my conscience hasn’t ever interfered with my duty.”

Gabriel pauses, and though my eyes are still closed the shuffling sound of trousers on carpet lets me know he’s scooting over to kneel closer to me.

He touches my knee with one cautious hand, and I jerk away. My body remembers his touch and misses it. Craves it, even: goose bumps rise on my forearms and thighs. But my body is not in charge here, and I won’t give in.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I won’t do that again.”

Gabriel takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I’ve never had a conflict between my duty and my conscience before. My duty has always been clear. And that’s something else that I’ve come to realize: it’s not that I was putting my job first, my career, instead of my… relationships. It’s that I had a duty to the people of this district, and to justice, a duty to prosecute, to protect, to avenge. And that came first.”

The sincerity in his words cuts through the stubborn layers of hurt and anger, commanding my attention. I open my eyes again, heedless of the wet tracks running down my face.

Gabriel’s cheeks are just as damp as mine. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. When we broke up—when he fired me, really—he’d been so angry, and I understood that, but now I also understand that there was much more there than I’d recognized before. Why didn’t I ever consider that he was in just as much pain as me?

“I don’t condone tampering with evidence, Emily. I can’t. I mean…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. But I understand why you did it. You had a duty, too. To your brother. And your conscience demanded that you do it. I get that. And… I respect it. And you, for doing what you thought was right. For your willingness to give up so much to protect your brother.”

Gabriel folds his hands on his knees and stares down at them.

“And that’s where my problem started,” he says softly, looking back up at me with those damned green eyes. “My duty demanded justice. You broke the law. I should have turned you in. But I didn’t, and I lied to cover for you. To protect you. Even after the trial was over.”

He sniffles, scrubbing at his nose with the back of a hand, and looks like nothing so much as a lost little boy as he kneels before me.

“You’re safe, by the way,” he says with the ghost of a sad smile crossing his lips. “The DEA is investigating Ferry, and they wanted the evidence. I signed it out to hand over to them, and then one afternoon I sorted them and removed every single one of your goddamn aspirin. So, there’s nothing left there that can come back on you. On us.”

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“And I didn’t understand any of it at the time. I was confused, and that led to anger. I couldn’t seewhyI was angry. I blamed you for it, but all the time I was really angry at myself. Not at you. I couldn’t reconcile my choice. I had a duty to punish you for your violation, but my conscience forced me to ignore my duty, even if I didn’t see things quite so clearly at the time.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m rambling,” he finishes.

“What are you trying to say?” I ask.

“That I’m sorry for the way I handled things.” Gabriel gets to his feet again, brushing at his knees. “That I’m sorry I took so long to figure out my own bullshit. That I’m sorry you’re leaving. No, not that you’re leaving. That I drove you away. And I’m sorry that I have no right to ask you to stay.”

He takes one slow step toward the front door, then stops looking back at me over his shoulder. He seems to be weighing further words.

“And most of all, I’m sorry for believing, even for a second, that you had manipulated me. That you had only been pretending, that you were just using me all along. That was unfair. And it was wrong.”

“Yeah. It was.” I swallow hard. “I loved you.”

“I know you did,” Gabriel says. “Anyway. That’s all. I’ll, um. I’ll let you get back to your day. I just wanted you to know that, even though it’s too late, I finally got it.”

He starts to walk away again and makes it to the arch leading back into the foyer before I finally collect my thoughts enough to speak.

“You’re a goddamned idiot, Gabriel Cooper.”

“I know.” He stops walking away but doesn’t look back at me.

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