troubled | e.d.

forty

tessa

ethan comes in to work on the 11th for an afternoon that's spent in my father's office with the door closed, and leaves immediately after to go meet his family that just flew in.

and so i'm left bored and alone, stirring sugar into a bunch of disposable coffee cups.

i still have the hope that cameron will come through, but it's a very long shot. she would barely listen to what i had to say when i came to visit her.

i don't know why she resents him so much. he didn't take her away from the love of her life... he protected her and showed david's truth. it makes no sense to me, but apart of her might still be slightly brainwashed.

"tessa," my dad sticks his head out his office door, and i snap mine up from staring down at some spilled creamer.

"yeah?"

"we should talk."

a spike of anxiety shoots through my whole body, paralyzing me for a quick second. i nod and gulp, slowly walking to his door where he ushers me in, then shuts it softly.

i take a seat in the plushy chairs across from his desk, and he sits down in his old office chair that most likely needs replaced.

"what's wrong?" i ask immediately.

he thinks about it for a second. "nothing is wrong—"

"please tell me the odds are in his favor," i whisper desperately, eyes wide and pleading.

my dad sighs and leans back in his chair.
"i don't know."

"you don't know?" i spit. "what kind of lawyer are you?"

"hey," he says sternly, his face shifting emotions. "watch your tone, young lady."

"sorry, sir," i whisper. my mom always told me that when my dad is mad, call him sir and his ego will be restored.

southern things.

his face softens. "it's okay. i know you're really stressed out. ethan's been telling me some."

"i just need to know if you're confident about friday or not."

he purses his lips before letting them relax again. "yes. i am."

"good," i breathe out. "because i did something that might make you even more confident."

his gaze sharpens as his eyes narrow at me. "what did you do?"

"well..."

"tessa."

"i found a letter ethan wrote to cameron in his car and sent it for him," i rush out.

he lets his head fall into his hands loudly as his elbows plant on the desk and rattle the pen holders.

"does he know, at least?" he asks, a little muffled.

"no."

sighing, he lifts his head up and begins to arrange the papers on his desk. "i mean, there are worse things you could've done."

"i'm just saying— it's worth a shot," i insist. "it was a really nice letter and—"

"wait, you read it?"

grimacing, i reply, "yeah..."

my dad gives me a disappointed look. "tessa kay villin."

"i'm sorry, okay! i just couldn't not read it and i definitely couldn't just let it sit there instead of sending it out."

he shrugs. "i- i don't know what you want me to say. it was worth a shot, your heart was in the right place, but i don't know if it'll work. i'm guessing you haven't heard anything back?"

i shake my head. "nothing. i put the return address as our house so in case she sent something back he wouldn't be utterly confused."

"if she does testify on her own will..." he says slowly, drawing out each word. "ethan is certain to stay out of jail. especially if she has proof that she was present, the david hurt her, and that ethan did it out of self defense."

"won't she get in trouble for lying about not seeing anything the first time?"

he shakes his head. "nah, let me handle that. easily can be blamed on PTSD— which i'm sure she actually has— which could have caused her to 'blank out' the entire night, causing her not to be able to testify. also, she wasn't under oath when she was let off from speaking up."

"wow," i grin. "that's smart."

"easy criminal defense," he taps the desk. "speaking of that, you ready for college?"

"no," i groan. "not really."

"i'm saying that you can live at home if you want to," he offers again, voice high pitched and hopeful. "it's only a 15 minutes drive from campus."

"nope," i state firmly. "you've been trying to get me to live at home ever since i got in. how will i be independent if i'm still living with you?"

he sighs. "you're right."

"and i want my own space."

"what in the world do you need your own space for?"

"so i can have people over," i exaggerate.

"no, so you can have ethan over," he corrects, rolling his eyes.

"maybe."

my dad leans forward on the desk, clasping his hands on the oak in front of him.
"tessa."

"dad."

"i need you to be prepared to say... goodbye to ethan."

"but, you said you were confident?" i ask, feeling my breaths turn short and shallow.

"i am, i am," he reassures. "but nothing is predictable in this field, especially when we don't know what we're working with. i've never been up against david's lawyer, honey."

"but hargrove has."

"and... and he lost that case," he says quietly.

"but even if ethan does get..." i gulp. "you know... it's not like i'll never be able to see him. i could visit."

"no," he shakes his head firmly. "that's where i draw the line of your relationship."

"but dad—!"

"i'm not letting you be turned into a prison girlfriend who he only sees twice a week through plexiglass and a phone," he says coldly. "end of story."

i open my mouth to argue even more, but the look on his face shuts me up.

so friday isn't only riding on ethan's freedom.

it's riding on our relationship.