Page 125 of Close Match

Slowly, he shakes his head back and forth. “No, I can’t. Not anymore.” Turning to Eric, he asks, “What do we need to do?”

Eric doesn’t answer. Instead, he picks up his phone and punches a number. “Mr. Dalton? Yes, can you come downstairs please, sir? Ms. Brogan, Mr. and Mrs. Houde are in my office. We’re going to need your assistance.” He pauses briefly. “Thank you.” Hanging up, he warns, “This isn’t the kind of law Watson, Rubenstein, and Dalton does, Evangeline.”

“Then tell us who we need to hire. We’re doing this, Eric,” Bristol warns him. Simon slips an arm around my sister and squeezes.

Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I stalk up to his desk and slap my hands down on it. “We’re not just doing this; we’re going to wake up the world by doing so.”

“We’re going to make history, Linnie,” Simon says quietly. My head turns to face him just as Eric’s boss walks in the room.

“No, they are. We’re just their voice to do it.”

Seventy-Nine

Montague

August

I’m determined to do the right thing even if that means ignoring the incredible overture made by the one person I want in my life more than any other in this world or the next.

My love for her hasn’t abated; if anything, it’s become stronger in the time I’ve spent away. And yes, in the darkness of the night I dream of her. If it weren’t for Linnie, I wouldn’t be standing here at a window admiring the view of the mountains.

I’d be in a cell.

But I’m ashamed of the man I was: the man who hurt her.

The man I’ve become is afraid to approach the woman I’ll love for eternity. Because how do I begin to ask for forgiveness for the secrets, the lies? Even if the only person who should have been hurt was me? Even though I never meant harm to come to anyone else?

I can’t because words won’t heal what I carelessly shattered in the blackness of night.

She’ll always be everything to me, and that’s not enough.

And she survived loving me.

I want her to be happy. So, I pray for her happiness every time I see a star, all the stars.

Even the sun.

* * *

A few days later,I’m packing to leave the facility when there’s a knock at my door. Victor walks in with a manila envelope. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I nod. In the last few months, I’ve embraced the urgency of having facilities of this nature, doctors of Victor’s importance. “Who knows if it will work out?” I shrug.

“Well, if it doesn’t, it’s not because of what’s in there.” He hands me the envelope. “You’re well prepared for what’s outside these walls, Monty.”

“Because of your help.” Switching the envelope to my left hand, I hold out my right to shake his.

“Because of your determination to get well. You’re an alcoholic, and you know what to do to counteract the triggers,” Victor counters.

Catching sight of my Mom and Dad climbing out of Dad’s SUV, I swallow hard. “Maybe.”

“I have no doubts. I’m so certain, this came in the mail for you, and I think you should go.” He reaches in his pocket for another envelope. After he hands it to me, I can see it’s in Linnie’s perfect penmanship.

Carefully pulling out the letter, I unfold it. “I’d like for you to join us,” I read aloud. Flipping the message over and finding nothing else in the envelope, I scowl. “What’s missing?”

Victor reaches back into his breast pocket for a ticket. Holding it up between two fingers, he hands it to me. “This.”

And in my hand I read,Broadway Against Drugs and Substance on Stage - A charity event benefit those who fought alone but whom we will fight for going forward — hosted byEvangeline Brogan and Simon Houde.