I kissed her lips, repeating how much I missed her, and she smiled—softly telling me to pull out of her.

“Would you like to stay the night?” I asked, picking up my jacket and holding it out for her. “You can tell me more about that case you’re so intrigued with lately.”

“The Henderson & Hart one?” she asked. “You really haven’t heard anything about it?”

“No, but if you spend the night we can google it together.”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was suddenly flat. “I need to go.” She adjusted her dress and walked over to the table, picking up her purse. ‘

“Is something wrong?”

She didn’t answer. She pulled out her phone to check the time and sighed.

“Aubrey, what are you doing?”

“Forcing myself to see that you’re still the same and you’ll never change.” She looked hurt. “Your idea of the truth is, and will always be, duplicitous. That’s all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Thank you for a wonderful night…I’ll always remember this and cherish it, just so you know.”

“I’m really starting to wonder if you are, indeed, bipolar…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that your name was Liam Henderson tonight?” She shook her head, and I inhaled a sharp breath.

“I gave you every opportunity to,” she said, looking hurt. “I practically begged you to tell me, but you opened up about everything except for that.”

I hesitated. “I was going to tell you everything later tonight, in bed.”

“Sure you were.” She scoffed. “Is there any reason why you didn’t even tell me this when I said you were once my favorite lawyer in my interview?”

“Once?”

She nodded. “Yes. Once. The essays I used to read by Liam all stressed complete and utter honesty. I guess that all changed once he became Andrew.”

“Aubrey, don’t…” I stepped forward and she took a step back. “I was honestly going to ask you to come to the final hearing.”

“Can I use your town car to get home or do I need to call a cab?”

“Stop this. Now.”

“Cab it is.” She shrugged. “I wish you the best of luck with your testimony. And I hope you treat the next girl you find nicely from the beginning so she won’t have to love and leave you alone in the end.”

“Give me a chance to talk, Aubrey…”

“We have nothing more to discuss.” She opened the door. “Please do not follow me, Andrew. You can’t trust me and I can’t trust you, so I don’t want anything to do with this anymore and I need you to finally respect that.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she spoke first.

“Goodbye Andrew, Liam,” she said, “whatever the hell your name is.”

“Aubrey…”

The door slammed shut and I knew it was pointless to go after her in that moment.

She was gone.

Swear (v.):

To declare under oath that one will tell the truth.

Andrew

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?” The judge said to me a few mornings later.

I said nothing, the sudden departure of Aubrey still fresh on my mind.

“Mr. Hamilton, I asked you a question.” The judge chided.

“I apologize,” I said. “I do swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God.”

“We may proceed.”

The defense lawyer stood up and cleared his throat. “Mr. Hamilton, your legal name was formerly Liam Henderson, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Could you please tell the court how you know my client, Kevin Hart?”

“We were once partners at Henderson & Hart.”

“Partners and best friends, correct?”

I looked over at an expressionless Kevin. He was dressed in a grey suit, still incapable of wearing a matching tie.

“Yes,” I said to the lawyer. “Once upon a time.”

“Is it true that you got into an altercation with him at a bar six and a half years ago?”

“Define altercation.”

He picked up a sheet of paper. “Did you walk into a bar and punch him? Leaving him with a broken jaw and a fractured ribcage?”

“He was f**king my wife.”

The jurors gasped and the judge banged his gavel.

“Mr. Hamilton…” The judge spoke sternly. “That type of language is not allowed in my courtroom. Please answer the question.”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I did injure Mr. Hart…Severely.”

“Similarly to how you injured your own wife?”

“Objection!” The prosecutor stood up. “Relevance, Your Honor?”

“Sustained.”

“Fine.” The defense lawyer held up his hands in surrender. “Is it true that you blame Mr. Hart for the downfall of your former firm?”

“Clearly the Department of Justice does since he’s the one on trial today.”

“Mr. Hamilton…”

“Yes.” I clenched my jaw. “Yes, I blame him for the demise of our former firm.”

“Is it true that you also blame him for the unfortunate death of your daughter?”

“Your Honor!” The prosecutor shot me a look of sympathy. “Relevance?”