Helen
Three days had passed.
Three full days of silence.
Marc had not said a single word about what I confessed that night. Not a text. Not a look. Not even a cold, clipped acknowledgment in the hallway. He treated me exactly the way he used to — distant, professional, almost invisible. And the longer the silence stretched, the more I regretted opening my mouth.
I kept telling myself it was better this way. That I had been foolish. That a man like him was never going to feel the same. Still, every time I saw him at the firm, something in my chest tightened painfully.
Thankfully, the regret did not follow me into the courtroom.
I stood in front of the judge, presented my arguments clearly, and held my ground. When the verdict came, my client was free. The relief in the room was almost
