Page 73 of Not Mine to Rescue
“I understand.”
“The optics would look like shit,” Bill grumbled.
Stephen laughed. “No, if the worst happened, I think her leading their defense team would humanize them. Luckily, they haven’t given us reason to worry about that.” He turned to me. “But I believe you understand we’re not naive.”
“Neither am I.”
His eyebrows lifted as he acknowledged my point. “Jim is. We’re going to have to take him off their account. He is showing signs of bias. You’re going to have to pick up the slack and take over as primary counsel. I’ll set an appointment to introduce you next week.”
Stephen stood and addressed the room. “We good?”
Bill nodded.
I nodded on autopilot. Here I thought I’d be reprimanded at least. Not handed one of the premier accounts.
Bill lingered as I gathered my thoughts. He asked, “That wasn’t what you expected?”
“Frankly, no. I expected to be fired, sent to the review board, and have my license pulled.”
He studied me for almost too long. “Why is that? Did you leave anything out?”
“I left nothing out.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I am. You have my notes, the dates, the activities, the—”
He sat back down and interrupted me. “What I don’t have in here is the biggest truth.”
I didn’t know how to answer that.
Bill’s gaze didn’t falter. “You didn’t tell us how you’re handling yourself now, emotionally.”
My therapist didn’t even get that. Panic lodged in my throat. I tried to swallow it and answer without my voice breaking. “It has been difficult.”
His eyes bored into me.
“What has been difficult. Name it.”
“Living.”
There may have been a momentary ripple of surprise on his face, but I couldn’t read into it because he masked it well. “Just…living?”
“I don’t know who I am. I don’t feel like the same person I was three years ago. I feel less, or more truthfully, I feel nothing.”
An almost imperceptible nod answered me. “Most affairs start that way. You find someone who makes you feel better about yourself. You use them to rediscover who you thought you were. Sometimes you find yourself, but most often you hurt everyone around you because you can’t find yourself through someone else. But sometimes they can give you the nudge you need to take the steps for yourself. It’s a crap shoot.”
Part of me wondered if he was speaking from experience. It would be improper for me to ask.
He stood. “You’re a damn good lawyer. You work for one of the best firms in the state. We trust you. But, if you don’t trust yourself, then we have a problem. I suggest you work with your therapist to find out who you’ve become.”
The door remained open after he left. The office buzzed with normal activity.
My thoughts lingered on his parting words.
Did I trust myself? I thought I had.
Was I projecting weakness? Could that be what he’d noticed?
