He groaned lightly as he listened to his friend, well, his only friend, continue to grumble at him. He was hating the current job he was in. They both hated it to some extent. There were some perks, of course, but those were rather limited. There were free donuts every morning. There was also the drink's cart that came round on the Friday night. That was pretty nice. It ended the week nicely. Then there was the money too. He had more money than he knew what to do with and he was an intern. But the work wasn't fulfilling. It wasn't what he wanted to do. He never felt as though he was helping people. He just felt as though he was getting by.
"I'm just saying that we should maybe think a bit more about it. Landman and Zack are a big firm. We need to be sure before we make a move."
"Foggy, you just want to stay because of the free breakfast."
"Do you know how much time it saves me in the morning? And then there's the fact that we'd need clients…an office space…"
"And you'd need to keep defending the indefensible," he retorted. "Wouldn't you rather just defend people who need us?"
"That doesn't make money," he retorted. "Look, I know that the work can be a bit…intense."
"Is that the word we're using for morally bankrupt these days?"
Foggy sighed, hand going through his long, blonde hair as they crossed the road. The noise of traffic blared in the background as they made their way back towards Matt's apartment. Foggy didn't know how his friend had afforded it when he had first told him of the location, but then he'd been there and seen the massive billboard outside the living room window, illuminating the apartment and providing it with its own private light show. They were going for some after work drinks. They'd spent the entire day in the office, working on a case and gathering all the evidence in time for court. Matt had suggested a beer back at his and probably some takeout food as well.
"Look, I know that it might not be what we thought we'd be doing when we were at Law School, but this is the reality of it and maybe it's not so bad."
Matt chuckled. "If you say so, Foggy," he responded, holding his stick in front of him and moving it from side to side as he kept close to his friend. They headed on down the sidewalk and he knew people were moving for him. He could sense that they were close to his apartment block and he reached into his pocket for his keys. "Look, we have another seven months until they decide if they're going to give us contracts. Just think about it, okay? Think about if this is what you want."
"And you're sure that you're not going to take a contract, even if they offer it to you?"
"I'm leaning towards not," he confessed.
"Even if the money is better than we could imagine?"
"It's not always about money, Foggy," Matt responded and they stood outside of his building. Matt slipped his key into the lock and opened the door, holding his stick by his side. He knew the building like the back of his hand. He heard Foggy go to his mail box and check to see if he had any. Judging by the way he didn't shuffle any papers, Matt knew there wasn't anything.
"You would say that. I bet you've gotten along on your good looks your whole life."
"You know that girls shouldn't want you just for money, right?"
"It helps if you can take them to fancy restaurants though and guess how you can do that? With money."
Matt's lips arched as they headed on up the staircase towards his apartment. As they moved onto the landing, Matt sensed that something was wrong. He could hear another heartbeat. It was soft and steady. He inhaled sharply; the smell familiar to him. It was berries and jasmine. She hadn't changed her perfume in over five years. He judged by the way that Foggy suddenly stopped walking that he was right in assuming there was someone outside of his door. Lifting a hand to his glasses, he adjusted them over his eyes and sighed.
"I think you have a visitor."
"I'm gathering that," Matt retorted.
She stood up from where she had been slumped against the door and he heard her stumble to her feet, almost like she was struggling with her balance. She turned to the side and looked at the two men she hadn't seen since they had been in college. She remembered the last argument that they'd had. It had been explosive. She had told him that he'd never see her again. He'd told her that she had been making a big mistake and she had been angry that he had tried to involve himself in her life.
Turned out that he had been right. She had made an utter mess of her life. She'd been an idiot and now she was back at the door of the man she thought that she'd never see again. She hadn't gone to a fancy college. She hadn't gotten an expensive education. She'd made ends meet different ways.
"Hi."
The word was soft and even. She had barely gotten it out. She didn't even know what else she should say to him. She looked over to the two men and swore that they had hardly changed. They were just wearing fancy suits and their haircuts looked more expensive. They still looked like the young college kids she'd known. Of course, she'd known Matt much longer than that.
"It's been a long time, Charlotte."
"Yeah, I guess it has been," she responded, tucking her brunette hair behind her ear. It was then when Foggy noticed it. He looked to her and began speaking.
"Jesus, what the-"
"-You two must be working at some fancy law firm, I take it?" Charlotte said to them and Foggy looked to her. She shot him a look that told him to keep quiet. She didn't want to explain what had happened just yet because she knew when Matt found out then he would just tell her that he had been right all along and she didn't exactly want to hear that just yet. She had no idea why she had come to him. She had no idea why she had bothered watching him for days.
"Yeah," Foggy nodded his head once but Matt remained silent. He was trying to work out why she was here. She had told him that she'd never wanted to see him again. He had wondered if she was able to follow through with her threats. Clearly, she wasn't. "We're at Landman and Zack."
"Oh, that is posh," Charlotte said with a nod of her head.
"What are you doing here, Charlotte?" Matt asked, getting straight to the point. She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. Foggy drank in her appearance. Her jeans were ripped and she was wearing a zip-up hoody that was at least a size too big for her. Her boots were scuffed and her hair looked slightly greasy. She looked an absolute state and he had no idea what had gone on but he knew that she wasn't the same Charlotte who used to visit Matt at Columbia.
"Can I at least come in first?" she asked from him.
"Listen, I'm going to go and leave you two to catch up," Foggy said and Charlotte shot him a slim smile. "Matt, I'll see you at work tomorrow…Charlotte…good to see you again."
"You too, Foggy," Charlotte said.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Matt retorted.
Foggy took off, turning on his heel and moving down the staircase. Matt went to his door, slipping the key in and opening it wide. He held the door open, letting Charlotte go into the apartment first. He got another whiff of her perfume and heard her pick up a bag, swinging it against her hip. Stepping into the apartment, she looked around and was amazed that it was where it was. And then she saw the billboard outside.
"You got a pretty good deal on this place, I bet."
"Turns out when you're blind, things like advertising boards don't bother you, but they bother other people."
"I can imagine," Charlotte said and Matt turned a lamp on, leaving his stick by the door. He turned around and closed it, locking it behind him out of instinct. He could sense that Charlotte was just hovering in the living room as she went down the steps towards it, anxiously not knowing what to do. He heard her drop her bag to the ground and he folded his arms over his chest, crumpling his white shirt and undoing the top button, loosening the blue tie he wore around his neck.
"Tell me what you're doing here, Charlotte. The last time I saw you, I believe you told me to stay the fuck out of your life."
"Well, you happily obliged on that one, didn't you?" she responded and he heard her Southern twang come through. It usually did when she was annoyed. He'd gotten used to it so many times before in the past.
"What did you want me to do? You made your choice and I thought that you'd just come back eventually."
"I thought that you'd have reached out," she responded to him and a brow rose on his forehead. He sighed and reached for his glasses before placing them down onto his dining table. He headed into his kitchen and went to the fridge, reaching for a bottle of beer and then pulling another one out. "I just…I thought that you might apologise."
"What did I have to apologise for?" he questioned.
She bit down on her tongue. He could be so infuriating sometimes. She saw him grab a bottle opener from the drawer and he dealt with the two bottles before placing one at one side of the dining table for her if she wanted it. He sat down and took a swig of the beer, letting it coat his throat and hopefully give him some courage that he needed in order to talk honestly to her. He'd seen the news. He had an idea why she was here. She probably needed legal advice.
"You said some pretty horrible things," she reminded him.
"If I remember correctly, you also said some horrible things to me."
And she couldn't deny that. She had said some mean things to him that she did regret. But she had wanted him to tell her something that never came. She had wanted for the conversation to go so differently. She went to sit down at the empty chair, playing with zip to her hoody before looking to the beer. She picked it up and took a swig. She pushed her brown hair behind her ear nervously, the curls dangling down her shoulders.
"So we've established that we were both assholes," Matt said to her and her lips arched despite everything. "So, I'll ask again, what are you doing here, Charlotte? Or do I have to guess?"
She was quiet. She took another drink of the beer and Matt scratched at his stubble covered chin. She drank in his appearance, his sightless gaze staring straight at her. She looked at his eyes, remembering how at one time she would stare at them for hours and wonder what was going on inside of his head.
"I need your help," she said to him.
"Okay," he said, shifting in his seat for a moment. He kept his fingers wrapped around the beer bottle in front of him on the table. He said nothing else, leaving the ball in her court to say something and tell him openly what was going on.
"I…I didn't know where to go and I…I'd looked you up online, seen that you were working at that law firm."
"So you already knew where I worked?"
"I was just making small talk with Foggy. I didn't want to look like a creepy stalker," she said to him. "I followed you back from work one night and found out that you lived here. Your mailbox has your name on so I knew you were up here. I waited for someone to leave before catching the door before they locked it."
"You know that does make you sound like a creepy stalker, right?" he questioned from her.
He could almost tell that her lips had arched at that. She always let out a soft breath whenever she did smile. His own lips arched slightly at that, his mouth turning up at the corner. She nodded her head once and took another drink of her beer.
"I guess it does," she said to him with a nod of her head. "And I wouldn't come here unless I was desperate."
"I don't know whether or not I should be insulted by that." He confessed.
"Well, we didn't exactly end things on good terms, did we?" she reminded him as she looked outside to the billboard that was advertising her perfume she wore. She looked at the blonde model holding the bottle and wondered what her life must be like. Was it as uncomplicated as she'd have them believe? Frolicking through the streets of Paris with friends, no care in the world.
"We'd argued before."
"Not like that," Charlotte retorted.
"No, I suppose not," he agreed on that point. "But that still doesn't answer why you're here, Lottie."
"No one's called me that in years."
"No one ever did call you that," he reminded her, recalling how he had first called her that night he had found her crying in her room.
"Only you," she said.
"What about your husband?"
She was silent then. He had wanted to find a way to bring him into conversation. He could still remember listening to the man taunt him when Charlotte had brought him to Columbia to meet her best friend. He'd sat at the bar and hadn't exactly known what to do. And then he had taken the phone call outside. He'd listened into it and he had heard exactly what kind of man he was. But Charlotte was having none of it.
"You know we married?" she asked him and she swore she almost saw him wince.
"I listen to the news. I know that you got married."
"We married four years ago."
"And I take it you don't have the white picket fence and perfect green lawn you'd always wanted?" he said to her and she wondered how she could have ever been so naïve to think that she could have a life like that.
"Jonathan had always said that it was coming," Charlotte said. "But I should have known he wasn't exactly someone who told the truth."
"I could have told you that years ago."
"I would never have listened to you," she responded. "I didn't listen to you anyway. I just…I was upset with you…how you'd behaved that entire night at the bar. And for a while you were wrong about him. The first two years of marriage were perfect. They were everything I'd ever wanted."
"And then?"
"I found out the truth…what he'd done…three college girls came forward, Matt. Three girls came forwards and the things that he'd done to them…and I'd never known…I'm married to him and I never knew what he was like."
Matt shifted uncomfortably once more on his seat. He could hear her voice begin to crack. She sniffed loudly and held it together. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to break down in front of him over what had happened. It wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want you to be sorry," Charlotte said, letting out a deep breath. "I don't deserve your apology. Those girls…those girls who he groomed…who he abused…they're the only ones who deserve any sympathy and I can't believe that I thought that he was just going away on work weekends."
"He's a wealthy senator, Charlotte. He has power. He can keep things hidden if he wants to."
"But he shouldn't be able to," Charlotte responded. "Anyway, I can't testify against him when the court case comes. He has spousal privilege…and tonight…I told him that I wanted to waive it. I wanted to testify. I told him that we were done and I was going to leave."
"You want to testify against him?" Matt checked, almost shocked at the sudden revelation. He hadn't been expecting her to say that to him. "Why?"
"Because while the first few years of our marriage were perfect, the rest weren't," Charlotte simply said to him and Matt's imagination began to go to the darkest corners that he could think of. He sat up straight, letting go of his beer bottle. He heard her heartbeat begin to quicken, her pulse racing and he knew she was on the verge of tears.
"What did he do to you?" Matt demanded to know from her and just like that, their argument seemed to have been forgotten. He wished that he could see her. He wished that he could reach out to her and just hold her hand, but he had no idea how she would react.
"He…it began with him being controlling. He would question what I wore…and then who I was going out with until I had hardly any friends," Charlotte said to him. "There would be times when I would laugh at him and he didn't appreciate it. There were other times when I just couldn't say the right thing…and he…he would make sure I knew about it."
"Fuck, Lottie," Matt whispered, hand clenching into a fist. He longed to bang it against the table, but he didn't want to lash out. He had to try and keep himself calm. Charlotte shook her head and moved to her feet, needing to pace. She had so much anxious energy and she had no idea how to expel it.
"I wanted to get out, but I didn't know how. He controlled all our finances. I had nothing and he knew it. He told me that the police would never believe me…that he'd bring up my past. Who would believe the kid of junkie parents who ended up in an orphanage over the senator who had a first-class degree from Oxford and whose parents were New York socialites?"
"You should have come here sooner. We could have dealt with this together."
"I didn't know how to," Charlotte said to him with a shake of her head.
"But you must have known that we'd have helped. Foggy…he thought you were great…and I…you must have known that despite our argument, I'd have helped. It's me."
"I know," Charlotte said to him with a nod of her head. And she had known that. She'd just never gotten the courage to go because she wondered what he might do if she tried to leave. She wasn't going to put anyone else in danger. "But I didn't, Matt. There's so many reasons why I didn't and I don't want to get into them tonight."
"Alright," he said, knowing when not to push her too far.
"And you must know all of this…it's been on the news." She said.
"I know about the trial against your husband," Matt nodded his head. "But whenever I listened to the news, he protested his innocence and you were said to be standing by his side…the proud wife."
"I…to my shame…I believed him at first. I believed what he said, but then I met them. I met the girls and I knew he was lying, but I didn't know how to get away from him. It was only the other night when I said that I wanted to testify against him when things got…uglier than they ever have been before."
"What did he do?" Matt asked from her and she knew that she couldn't explain it to him.
He'd also stood up. He heard her move back towards him. She said nothing. She just took his wrist in her hand and lifted his hand up. His fingers stretched out towards her skin. She was cold, almost scarily so. She let go of his wrist and he explored the face he had memorised so often before. His fingers felt along her cheek. It was swollen and no doubt bruised from the way she winced. His thumb ran over her bottom lip and he knew it was split. Thumb running up to her forehead, he could feel a wound there too. His fingers touched her hair. It was greasy under his touch, almost like she hadn't washed it in a long time.
"Did he do anything else to you?"
"Don't ask me that."
"Lottie," Matt whispered her name, silently urging to her to talk to him.
"I don't want to lie to you, Matt, but I don't want to tell you the truth."
He knew instantly that she didn't need to say anymore. He just didn't want to imagine it. The darkness was cruel most of the time, constantly making him imagine images that were worse than anything he could see in real life. He lowered his hand from her face and the two of them stood inches from each other, neither of them moving.
"I had nowhere else to go," Charlotte said to him. "And I knew that you were a lawyer…and I…I want to testify against him. I want him to go to jail for what he did to those girls. I want to help them."
"I'm not in that area of law, Charlotte…and my firm…I don't know if I could help you," he said to her and he almost heard her deflate. She was disappointed. But he couldn't leave her deflated. "But I can find a lawyer who can help if I can't. What about the three girls? Can you not join them?"
"Probably…but I'm worried that he's going to come after me because I told him that I want a divorce…" she said. "I want to leave him. I never want to be with him again and I know that means rebuilding my life, but I'm willing to do it. I'm willing to rebuild and start again so long as it means he can't hurt anyone else."
"We need to tell the police what he's done to you."
"It's not about me."
"The hell it isn't," Matt snapped at her. "Lottie, you deserve justice as much as those girls."
"No, I deserve nothing because I should have known…I should have believed them from the start and maybe if I'd have spoken up years ago…maybe he wouldn't have been able to go after them."
"You can't blame yourself."
"Yes, I can, because I'm married to him," Victoria said and she moved to sit down on the sofa. Matt heard the cushion squelch under her weight and he tentatively went to sit down next to her, keeping a short distance between them "I just need you to help me, Matty…just find a lawyer…and then I'll be gone again. You don't need to see me again."
"You think that's what I want?" he questioned from her and she turned to look at him, remembering the young man she had grown up with. She watched him for a few moments and he wished that he could just hold her face and know what her expression was. "You think I want you to walk out that door and not come back? I never wanted that and I know I should have come after you, but I…I just genuinely thought you never wanted to see me again. Then when I kept hearing your name on the news, I figured you were doing okay."
"It's not your fault."
"And what happened to those girls is not yours either."
She was silent then and he knew she was uncomfortable. She was silent once more then and he wondered what she was thinking, her heartbeat was still steady.
"I went to confession for the first time in nine years today," she suddenly said. "Do you still go?"
"When I can," he said to her with a nod of his head. "How did it feel?"
"Almost like I was back at the orphanage," she confessed. "I think back to those days and…sometimes…I remember that they were the happiest I'd been. Sad, isn't it?"
"Not really. There were times when they were made bearable," he said, not adding on what he wanted to. Because of you being there.
She was silent once more for a few seconds. "I should go."
"Where are you staying?" he questioned from her and she moved to her feet, grabbing her bag from the ground and hanging it on her shoulder. She watched as Matt shifted on the couch to face her.
"You know…around," she said and he cocked his head to the side, staring pointedly in her direction.
"Lottie," he said in that warning tone she had known so well.
"I…I haven't really been staying anyway," she confessed to him, unable somehow to lie to him. "I've been staying awake in cafes most nights…using their restrooms. I didn't want to use my credit card because he'd find out where I've been."
"You've been sleeping rough?"
"There's not really been any sleeping involved," Charlotte retorted pointedly.
"You can stay here."
"Matt-"
"-It's non-negotiable," he interrupted her. "You can have my bed for the night…for as long as you need…I have a shower and you can borrow some clothes. You're not going back out there and that's final."
And she didn't even bother to fight him on that. She let him take the lead and followed him around the apartment dutifully, taking a t-shirt he offered her alongside jogging pants. She went into the shower and stood under the warm water for a long time, washing away the dirt and letting her hair hang in wet clumps down her back. She borrowed his shower gel and shampoo, something he was acutely aware of when he sniffed it on her way back in. She moved slowly over towards the kitchen where he was stood, a plate of toast in front of him.
"You should eat something," he said to her.
"Thanks," Charlotte said, padding barefoot towards him. She stood by his side and picked up a slice of toast. Chewing down on the edge of it, she peered out of the side of her eye towards him. "I take it there's no one else living here with you?"
"Still single," he confirmed.
"What happened to Elek-"
"-Not in the picture," he interrupted before she could say her name.
Charlotte nodded her head once. "Sore subject?"
"Just one I'd prefer not to talk about," he said and she let it go. She wasn't going to push him on it after he had extended her the same curtsey. "And there's been…you know…"
"I don't know if I want to know," she responded, not entirely certain if she was comfortable digging into Matt's dating history. "Sorry, it's…just been…I don't mean to sound rude."
"I get it. Not sure I'd want to hear about your one-night stands."
"Never had any," she confirmed to him. "But I suspect the sentiment still stands…and…there's not been anyone else…like…you're not-"
"-Let's not worry about my dating life or ability to commit right now," he interrupted her, not sure what he should truthfully tell her. "You should get some sleep and in the morning we can go and get breakfast and talk about what you're going to do if you really do want to fight your husband."
"I do," she said with a firm nod of her head. "I'm tired of being a victim…I'm not being that anymore."
"You know there's no shame in being a victim, right?" he checked.
"I know, but I don't want it to define me," she replied.
"Well, you don't have to," Matt promised her. "But for tonight, just get some sleep and we'll plan tomorrow."
"You're not going to stop bugging me to get some sleep, are you?"
"Not a chance, now go," Matt said and he felt her grab hold of his arm gently, squeezing it as she walked by him and towards his bedroom.
"Thanks, Matty," she whispered.
He just nodded to her and listened as she climbed into his bed and he went to sat on the sofa. He leant his head back and closed his eyes, wondering just what kind of a mess he was going to get himself involved in. When it came to Charlotte Jonas, he was always getting himself into mess.
...
A/N: So I am new to this, but couldn't resist starting a FF! Would love to know your thoughts on the first chapter - more history to be revealed as we go along!