the middle of a rock quarry.
But I knew what I had to do. My heart was a completely different story. It was attached to the former version of Wes—the one that promised me everything and molded my dreams of the happily ever after.
“Why are you scared? You’re much braver than you think,” Sinclair had whispered in my ear that morning.
I needed to remember his words. I needed to capture them all and bottle them up to use in moments like this.
“Are you ready to do this?” Renee asked.
It had been a week since I told Wes I wanted a divorce and now I was in Richmond, about a two-hour drive away. I did that on purpose. I wanted my lawyer to have no clue who my husband was. If I chose a lawyer from McLean or Falls Church, I could just see them balking and running away.
Sighing loudly, I unbuckled my seatbelt and nodded at Renee. “I’m ready.”
This was a fairly busy area, with a parade of large buildings lining the road. Most parking spots were filled. People walking down the streets kept their heads down, eyes glued to their cellphones. No one noticed me. No one cared and I slowly felt the tension leaving my body. Lately I felt like there was a huge sign over my head, along with a flash blinker that said: Look at me! I failed my marriage!
Across the street, directly in front of us, was a four-story brick building. On the second floor was Randall & Fernberg, P.C.
Randall & Fernberg was a top-rated law firm. Their office was on the third floor. In the elevator, Renee and I were silent. I could feel her eyes flick toward me every few seconds. I felt sick to my stomach.
As we stepped out of the elevator Renee held me back for a moment. Her hands settled on my shoulders and gently squeezed. “Everything will be fine.”
I gave her a blunt nod and then we walked into the office. Decorated with dark furniture, white walls, and framed pictures of natural scenes, it was a typical office. The receptionist greeted us with a smile.
“I have a one o’clock appointment with Mr. Randall,” I said quietly, as though Wes were hiding around the corner, ready to change my mind.
The receptionist told me to sign in. I couldn’t get a firm grip on the pen, which made my signature look like wavy lines. “He’ll be with you shortly. You can take a seat.”
The magazines stacked on the end tables were aging. In the corner, right in front of a window, were Styrofoam cups and a full pot of coffee. I couldn’t imagine anyone stepping into this office finding comfort in a good cup of coffee. I could barely concentrate on the magazine on my lap.
I nudged Renee and pointed to the ceiling. “There’s a small water stain.”
“Yeah, and your point is?”
I leaned in. “My point is, why hasn’t it been fixed? Maybe this law firm is going down the drain. Maybe I should look for a new lawyer,” I hissed.
“Okay. Relax. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. That means nothing. You picked a good lawyer.”
“How do you know?”
Renee shrugged and went back to flipping through her magazine. “I did my research too.”
I had never consulted a lawyer and the only time I’d ever been to a law office was to visit Wes. Even then I didn’t pay attention to the people in the waiting room. Wes brought home cases but he never discussed them with me and I didn’t pry. I wished I had. How many people had Wes represented who were trying to leave an abusive relationship? This was Wes’s stomping ground. He knew the ins and outs of the law. How to win cases and where to really hit a person.
I thought I had done everything I could to cover my bases, but in the back of my head I kept feeling like I was missing something. I wrung my hands together and stared at the clock on the wall. Time felt like it was frozen.
It felt stuffy in there. Even though it was October, it was unusually hot out. Why didn’t they have the air-conditioning on? I felt like I was choking.
I had gone to stand up when a short, stout man stopped next to the receptionist’s desk. He looked like he could be my grandfather, with gray hair and a face lined with wrinkles. He didn’t look like any cutthroat lawyer. He looked like he belonged in