Page 53 of Overruled

Twenty-Nine

Dani

Five days after Ezra walked away from me, and mostly, I’m just lost. I’ve gone over that day in the stairwell more times than I can count, picking apart the conversation we had via text an equal number of times.

There is a deep, needy part of me that wishes he would come after me—even though I know it’s irrational to feel that way.

Ezra made it clear that he won’t be chasing after me anymore.

And deep down, I know that’s my fault.

I think I knew even when I accused him of betraying me that it wasn’t something he would do.

I’ve had hours and hours to agonize over the possibility, and the conclusion I keep coming to is that I acted irrationally, that I should have given him a chance to explain himself.

But the truth is…I am afraid of this thing that’s been brewing between us.

Maybe I didn’t fully realize before that day in court, maybe my subconscious had been just looking for something to attach to so that it could protect my heart from another potential break; I can’t be sure.

All I know is that regardless of how I feel or what I know… I miss him.

But how can I go to him after all the horrible things I said?

I wouldn’t even know where to begin. “I’m sorry” feels trite in the face of throwing the most painful parts of his life back at him.

No matter how I look at it, I’m the asshole now.

I’ve spent so long pushing people away…I don’t even know how to begin to pull them closer.

There are only two days left before we’re expected to reconvene in court to deliver our closing arguments, and outside of the knowledge that I will have to face Ezra again, that I will have to see him again and pretend that I don’t miss him terribly—I still have practically nothing concrete to bring home Bianca’s case.

I’ve been over her financials again and again.

I’ve combed through record after record of bland business dealings from Lorenzo’s office; there is a mountain of paperwork sitting on my kitchen table that I’ve read twice over and come up with nothing.

Which means that not only have I failed in my personal life, I’m going to fall flat on my face at work too.

I’m currently sifting through a massive loan contract on the second mortgage in Lorenzo’s mistress’s name; in my heart I know there’s something there, but I just can’t seem to put the pieces together.

Is it where they meet up? Did he buy it for her?

She has it listed as a “rental property,” which, by all accounts, makes absolutely no sense given that there’s no paper trail of any tenants.

I’m drowning in a sea of my own making when a knock sounds at my door, and I have to physically shove piles of paperwork away just so I can swim my way out of the mess.

I assume it’s Nate reporting back after his self-appointed stakeout; he insisted last night that he should go sit outside the “rental property” today and see if he could see anything fishy going on.

Like he’s some sort of PI now. It got him out of my hair, which means I haven’t had to answer any questions about Ezra, so I allowed it.

All of this to say it comes as a complete surprise when I wrench my door open to reveal a very haggard-looking Ezra Hart leaning against my doorframe.

His normally bright green eyes seem duller, and there is a few days’ worth of stubble at his jaw that he normally keeps shaved.

It’s darker than his hair, and the ruggedness it adds to his already unfairly attractive appearance is downright sinful.

Even knowing it’s not the time to notice these things, I can’t help but do it anyway.

Every molecule in my body seems to ready itself in a position that would force me to leap into his arms, and it’s an actual physical toll, resisting the urge. “Ezra,” I say in slight shock. “What are you doing here?”

The dark circles under his eyes conflict with the thin smile he gives me, and he shrugs one shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s a good question.”

“Do you—” My tongue feels tangled, like it’s forgotten how to make words. “Do you want to come in?”

My heart sinks when he shakes his head. “I won’t be long.”

“Oh.”

I don’t know what else to say. I thought him showing up here meant…But no. He said he wasn’t going to chase me, didn’t he? So why is he here?

“I just had some things to say,” he tells me carefully, “and then I’m going to get out of your hair.”

Don’t go, I want to beg. Stay in my hair. Nest there, for all I care.

I say none of that. “What did you want to say?”

“I needed you to know that I didn’t do what you thought I did,” he says evenly, holding my gaze with sincerity in his eyes. “I’m not here to plead my case, but I need you to know that I would never betray your trust like that.”

“I…” A pressure builds in my chest, one that feels too big, too much. It makes the words harder. “I know,” I say honestly. “I know you wouldn’t.”

I don’t know what I expected him to do with my admission, but a solemn nod was the last thing on my mind. Though that’s all I get.

“Good.” Another slow nod.

His jaw works as if he’s rolling his next words over his tongue, unsure if he wants to let them out or not.

I know that I should say something, that I should tell him I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean what I said, that I know he would never hurt me on purpose—but fear keeps my mouth shut.

Because I don’t know what will happen if he’s forced to choose between being with me or keeping his mother safe. I know I could never ask him to choose.

And maybe that means I was right, as much as it kills me. Maybe this was never going to work out.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” I tell him, knowing I can’t let him walk away without saying it. “In the stairwell. I went too far.”

His head ducks as he watches his feet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he nods. “You weren’t exactly wrong.”

“No, Ezra, I—”

“I was a coward,” he admits quietly. “I did do everything he wanted, because I was too afraid to refuse him. I was acting like I was still just a kid hiding in my room from this scary man that lived in my house. Thinking that if I kept my head down, he wouldn’t notice me, that I could get by.”

“Ezra, that isn’t—”

“But you made me realize that getting by isn’t going to solve anything,” he says determinedly, turning up his face to meet my gaze. “And I think I needed that.”

It feels harder to breathe. “You did?”

“I did,” he answers gently. “And for that I wanted to say thank you.”

I can’t help it, I bark out a laugh. “You’re thanking me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I guess I am.”

“Jesus Christ,” I scoff, scrubbing a hand down my face.

It’s the lightest moment I’ve had in days, and everything about it makes me want to pull him close, to wrap my arms around him, but at this point, I don’t even know if he’d want me to. It keeps me rooted in place.

“There was one more thing I wanted to tell you,” he says, straightening.

My breath catches when he takes a step closer, his hand lifting to cup my cheek. My voice comes out on an exhale. “Yeah?”

“I meant everything I said to you.” His eyes search my face, and I have to force myself to keep still, to not lean into him.

“You are worth staying for,” he murmurs.

“I still believe that.” My lashes flutter when his lips press to mine, too soft to even be called a kiss, but I feel it in my toes all the same.

He lets out a stuttered breath after. “But you have to believe that too.”

He pulls back, and I sway on my feet before catching myself.

“And when you realize that,” he says slowly, “I want to be the first one to know.”

I blink at him in a daze, a million things running through my mind but not one of them making its way out of my mouth. I just…stand there.

“That’s all I wanted to say.”

“I…” My mouth hangs open, and the words are right there, right there —but so is that fear. “You will be.”

I expect him to be angry, or disappointed, but instead, Ezra smiles at me. That same one that feels too bright, the one that lights me up.

“Good,” he answers softly.

We both continue to stare at each other, but I can see the moment that Ezra is gearing up to leave. He shifts, just a little, and he gives me a short nod, and all I can seem to do is the same.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” he says.

“Okay.”

He turns on his heel, and I’m three seconds from calling out to him when he turns back, looking strangely lighter. “Oh, and also…Anton Andrews.”

My nose wrinkles as I’m caught off guard. “What?”

He doesn’t answer, just flashes me one last sweet smile, before he leaves me standing in my open door, more lost than I’ve ever been.

But what’s more, I feel surprisingly hopeful for the first time in days.

Even if I have no idea why.

···

It takes me barely twenty minutes to find everything I need to know about Anton Andrews.

Twenty-nine years old, no outstanding debt…

So far, I haven’t come across anything that would lead Ezra to believe it’s a name I should be looking into.

It has to be important, Ezra wouldn’t have mentioned him otherwise, but at first glance, I just can’t seem to determine why.

The name sounds familiar, nagging at the back of my brain, but I can’t seem to grasp it.

I haven’t allowed myself to think about everything else he said, because I know if I start down that road, I’ll get lost on it.

I tell myself that it’s something I will face after this trial.

After that there is nothing else between us either way.

After that…no matter what happens, I won’t have any more excuses not to face the things I’m actively avoiding.

Things like how much it hurts to think about never seeing Ezra again. How devastating a possibility it is that he might never smile at me like he did today ever again. I know that the answer is there, staring me in the face, but I stubbornly push it aside, just like I do everything else.

I push a stack of Bianca’s financial statements for her trust away so I can reach a folder I’m hunting for; it’s the last bit we were able to find in Bianca’s storage, mostly concerning the transfer of the funds from Italy to the United States—and while I’m sure it will yield as little as all the ones I’ve already looked at, I want to be able to say I’ve exhausted every option.

I jolt when my phone rings, causing me to knock the entire stack onto the floor, and papers scatter everywhere.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Ignoring the mess, I snatch up my phone and bring it to my ear. “Yeah?”

“So I’m still on my stakeout,” Nate tells me. “And you’ll never guess what I’ve found.”

I breathe out a sigh. “You know you’re not a detective, right? Only you would waste your time on this.”

“Hey! Vera is here too.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

There’s a moment of silence before: “Um, I didn’t have anything else to do today.”

“Damn it, Vera,” I groan. “You’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“Are you saying I’m not smart?” Nate huffs.

“I’m assuming you called for a reason,” I venture, kneeling on my living room floor so that I can start gathering the strewn documents. “Or did you need coffee and doughnuts?”

“I’m starting to think I shouldn’t even tell you my amazing news,” Nate practically hmph s. “You’re being awfully testy.”

“We’re due back in court in two days, I have nothing concrete yet, and now Ez—” I press my lips together. “I’m just a little stressed, okay?”

I should have known Nate wasn’t going to let it slide. “Did you say Ezra? What’s wrong with Ezra?”

“Nothing is wrong with Ezra,” I mumble. “Forget I said anything.”

Vera’s voice nears the phone, like she’s pulling it away from Nate. “Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Yeah, I think bitterly. Mine.

“Never mind that.” I sweep papers into a pile. “Tell me why you called.”

“So we’re outside the mistress’s rental property, right? And at first, I thought it was vacant. It’s so…tidy. There’s no lawn furniture, or signs, or outdoor rugs…nothing.”

“So is it vacant?”

“No,” Vera starts. “Actually—”

“No, no, no,” Nate tuts. “I want to tell her. This was my idea.”

Vera snorts. “What does it matter?”

“Because you said this was a dumb idea,” he counters.

“At the time,” she deadpans, “I thought it was.”

“I would like a written apology from you both,” Nate says smugly.

“Yeah,” Vera replies. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Well, maybe I won’t—”

“ Guys .” I snatch up the haphazard pile I’ve made, pushing to my feet and throwing the entire thing onto the table. “Can you just tell me why you called?”

“Right,” Nate answers contritely. “So, it’s not empty. Actually, you’ll never guess who’s living there.”

He pauses for effect, and I roll my eyes as I stoop to grab one last document I left on the floor.

I’m just about to add it to the pile on my table as Nate starts talking again, but a signature at the bottom catches my eye.

Nate’s voice fades a bit as I stare at it in disbelief, scanning the rest of the page and feeling my heart rate quicken with every new line.

I start sifting through the other pages, and even though there isn’t another occurrence of the signature—not that there needs to be, the one is damning enough—there is an obvious pattern.

One that has my blood rushing in my ears.

“Hello?” Nate sounds impatient. “Did you hear me? Are you even listening?”

“No,” I tell him honestly. “Sorry. I wasn’t.”

“Oh my God, stop spacing out. This is important! I think we really have something here.”

I swallow thickly, glancing at the signature on the first page again before setting it gently back on the table.

“Yeah…” I say breathlessly. “Yeah, I think I do too.”