Killer Love

“I thought you loved your job?” She puts her knitting needles down, taking a sip from the hot chocolate I made her.

“For so long, I believed that the law always made things right. That it gave justice to the victims that had been wronged. That following it is crucial to having a good society. But lately, I’m just not so sure that I agree with that anymore.”

Court sucked today. I watched as a woman had to plead for a restraining order on her abusive boyfriend. I mean he’d threatened to kill her, yet I watched the judge waver on whether or not she should give it to her.

My blood started to boil watching everything unfold. Finally they gave it to her. Still, what is the woman going to do when her crazy boyfriend shows up at her home again? Throw the paper at him? It is all a bunch of bullshit and I’m not sure I’m cut out for it anymore.

I know there is nothing that I could do about it. It was my job to sit there and account for every word that was said. My opinions and thoughts don’t matter. It has become very wearing on me. I don’t leave my job at the door. It comes home with me.

“I’m going to tell you something Dad once told me.” I put the chocolate-covered spatula down. I’m going to need more frosting. “Just because something is a law or the norm for other people it doesn’t mean you have to abide by those rules. Sure you could get in trouble if you broke some of them. But it doesn’t mean you have to believe in them. There is nothing wrong with that. You didn’t make those rules. Someone else did. You set your own moral compass, Angel. No one else.”

I walk over to the pantry, grabbing another thing of frosting and thinking over her words. I’ve never thought about it like that before.

“So I’m not terrible for being happy when someone dies that I believe was a horrible person?”

“No, I have a few exes that I wouldn’t mind if they kicked the bucket,” she jokes, going back to knitting.

A lot of people that have graced my courtroom have gone missing or ended up dead. I thought it was the world’s way of fixing the wrong that the system didn’t get right. Nothing is a coincidence. How many times has my own husband told me that? How many times did he have to leave in the middle of the night?

I shake the thoughts from my head. It is his job. Of course he gets called away in the middle of the night. Death happens at all hours of the day. The bigger question is why doesn’t it bother me to think that my husband might be up to something other than work?

If I know anything about Lucas it’s that he hates when I’m upset. If something is bothering me that man makes it his mission to fix it. He loves me more than anything. I’ve never doubted that.

Something in our relationship has changed in the past few months. A deeper connection has been growing. Both of us have been showing sides of ourselves to one another that we had kept locked away deep down inside of us.

“You’ve got to let me set you up with someone. You clearly have the worst taste in men.”

“I think I’m going to give up. You’ll have to be the one to give our parents grandbabies. I bet I’ll be a kickass aunt anyways.”

I finish frosting the cake. “You’re going to let me set you up with someone.”

“You had an even worse dating history than me before Lucas came along,” she reminds me. I cringe thinking about it. I don’t blame her. Before Lucas I’d given up on dating, too.

“Yes, but right before I found Lucas I, too, was going to quit the whole dating thing. Now look at me.” I smile. I might not be happy with my job at the moment but the one thing I know I’ll never waver on is my love for Lucas. That man is my everything. He can do no wrong and even if he did, it would be because he had just reason in doing so.

“So maybe that’s the key. I should stop looking.” I grab a plate, cutting her a piece of cake before getting myself one. I needed this tonight. Some girl time with her. Even though I tell Lucas everything, I didn’t want to worry him about how unhappy I’ve been at work.

“I could ask Lucas. He might have someone in mind for you.”

“I prefer my men to be alive.” I laugh, almost choking on my piece of cake. I prefer my man alive, too. Some others not so much. I take another bite of my cake, wondering what Lucas is up to right now. I should text him.