it. She kept feeling sorry for me instead of you, and I agreed with her completely. We were really nice people. Mr. and Miss Terrific.” He looked into Alex's eyes, grateful beyond words that she had survived it.
“Have you heard from her?” she asked out of curiosity, and he shook his head.
“Not a word, the little dear. I'm sure she's moved on to greener pastures. She'll fall on her feet, wherever she is. Daphne's a smart girl, when it comes to Daphne.” And then he looked at his wife with an expression of immeasurable sadness. “Why are you here? You shouldn't be by now.” It was true, but she was a faithful sort and they both knew that. Besides, Brock was right. Eighteen years had woven a powerful bond between them.
“I loved you for a long time. It's hard to forget that,” she said honestly, no longer afraid that he would hurt her. She knew he couldn't. She was too far removed now.
“You'd better forget it soon,” Sam said. “Thirty days. I'll file before that, by the way. I'm sure your young lawyer friend will be relieved. The poor guy looks daggers at me everytime he sees me. Tell him he can relax now, I'm going.” She smiled at the irony of his words. They knew each other well. He had finally figured out who Brock was. Though he'd been a lot slower than she had been in figuring out Sam's relationship to Daphne. But there were no secrets between them now. “Isn't he a little young for you?” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice when he asked, which reminded her of Brock and made her smile. They were both being silly.
“I say that to him every day, but he's very stubborn.” Alex smiled, thinking of Brock. “He was incredible to me when I was sick. He spent the first five months with me throwing up on the bathroom floor of my office before he ever invited me anywhere.”
“He's a good man,” Sam said fairly. “I wish I'd been decent enough to do that.” And then he thought of the result of the trial again, and shrugged unhappily. “Maybe it's just as well I didn't stick by you. I don't want to take you down with me on this. You need your freedom.”
“So do you,” she said gently.
“Tell it to the judge,” he said, and stood up. He knew he had no right to keep her any longer, and it only made him feel worse to be near her. It was so obviously over for her, it was hard being around her. “Tell Annabelle I'll come by tomorrow to pick her up. I want to do lots of things with her this month.” He only had one month of freedom left, probably, and he was going to spend it all with her. He would have liked to spend it with Alex too, but he would never have asked that. He knew he couldn't.
Alex was sad when she went home to Annabelle that night, and Brock called to say he had seen it on the news and was sorry. He was working late, and he'd come over in a while, but when he did, Alex was irritated by his attitude about Sam. He was supercilious and overtly pleased that Sam had been convicted. He said that Sam had messed up his life in every way possible, and basically deserved what had happened.
“I think twenty years in jail might be a pretty high price for his mess, wouldn't you say? Who the hell hasn't made mistakes? He was stupid and self-centered, and naively trusting of his partners, but he doesn't deserve to lose everything, nor does Annabelle because of his mistakes. She needs her father.”
“He should have thought of that before he went into business with Simon. Hell, Alex, the guy was obvious. You said so yourself,” and she couldn't disagree. She had never trusted Simon. But Sam had, much to his chagrin now.
The next day when Sam came by to pick up Annabelle, looking drained, Alex thought that Brock was unnecessarily unpleasant to him, and after Sam left with Annabelle, she said so. “The guy's got enough on his plate without your being rude to him on top of it.” It was rare for them to fight, but for Alex, it was an issue of loyalty and kindness.
“I was not rude, I was cool, there's a distinct difference.”
“You weren't cool, Brock,” she said, feeling like his mother, scolding