Fleeting Moments(59)

“Ma’am,” Clive says. “Please refrain from speaking unless directly spoken to.”

Ha. Sucked in, bitch.

She clamps her mouth closed and glares at me.

“Of course I’m agreeable to a split,” I say. “It’s his home, too.”

“The split, without children, is usually fifty/fifty.”

“Her parents helped purchase the house,” Gerard says. “I think she should get sixty percent.”

“Gerard!” Heather snaps.

“It’s fair,” he mutters, not looking at her.

“And are you okay with this, Lucy?” Clive asks.

“Yes,” I say, studying my hand.

“Very good. The next thing will be any furniture—possessions, vehicles, things like that.”

“I’ve taken all my possessions,” Gerard says.

“And you’re okay with what he’s taken?” Clive asks.

“Yes,” I say, my voice monotone.

“And vehicles?” he continues.

“There’s been somewhat of a debate over vehicles,” I say, finally making eye contact with Gerard who is studying me.

“Would you like to explain?” Clive prompts.

“It’s his car,” Heather says.

Jesus. She just can’t shut up.

“Is this correct?” Clive asks Gerard.

“Yes, it’s my car, but I have a work car so left it with Lucy.”

“And then tried to take it back,” I mutter.

“That’s because his work car might not last, and he’ll need something else,” Heather throws at me.

“My god,” I growl. “Will you just shut the hell up?”

“Why? Are you scared about what I’ll reveal?” she fires back.

“There’s nothing to reveal!”

She looks to Clive. “She was having an affair before the split.”

“That certainly changes things,” he says, looking to me. “Is this true?”

“No!” I state strongly. “I was not having an affair.”

“She’s lying. She’s also mentally unstable, claiming to see someone that isn’t there. I think it should be requested that she has a full psychological assessment before anything is signed.”

“Thank you for your input, Heather—” Clive begins, but I cut him off.

“I am not crazy. I was not having an affair. And I’m sick to death of you interfering in this business, which is not yours.”

“You are crazy!” she screams.

“Ladies . . .”

A knock sounds at the door. We all go quiet.

“Yes?” Clive says, his voice tired.

“Sorry to bother you,” the receptionist says, popping her head in. “There’s a man here; he’s with the police. He said it’s important he steps in on this mediation.”

“What?” Heather gasps. “Why is a police officer here?”

Yes, why is a police officer here? My heart pounds.

“Let him in.”

I glance at the door and my entire world spins as Heath steps in, looking like heaven and hell and everything beautiful in this world. My bottom lip trembles as his eyes find mine, then he walks over to the table and stops, glaring at Heather and Gerard.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he begins, finally looking to the mediator. “I feel it’s necessary that I step in here, as a previous officer of the law, and inform you of my part in all this.”

“Who the hell are you?” Heather snaps.

Heath glares at her. “I’m Heath, the imaginary man you’ve all so painfully made Lucy aware of in the last few months.”

You could hear crickets—the room is that quiet.

“You’ll understand that I require identification as to exactly who you are,” Clive says.

Heath pulls out his identification and hands it to him. “I was with Lucy the day of the attack. I got her out. Afterwards, I was working an undercover case and was on somewhat of a witness protection program, if you will, so was unable to make myself known. These people tortured her and called her crazy. Her own husband walked away from her. She was not having an affair, and if you ask the private investigator they hired, he’ll tell you the same.”

Heather’s mouth opens, then closes. Gerard looks as if he’s going to pass out.

“Thank you for taking the time to come in here and clear this up, Mr. Walker. Is there a way I can contact your station and confirm this?”

Heath nods. “Yes, all the information is right here on this card.” Heath hands him a card from his pocket, and then looks to Gerard and Heather.

“You”—he points to Heather—“need to learn to shut your mouth before it gets you into trouble, and you”—he points to Gerard—“should be ashamed of yourself, leaving your wife when she needed you the most and dragging her through all this. But mostly, for letting that wicked bitch of a woman speak to her the way she has. That woman was carrying your child only a few months ago; she was your wife, and you chose to treat her the way you did.”

Gerard opens his mouth.

Heath puts a hand up. “You lost your shot. And let me tell you, you lost a damned good thing in doing it. She’s the best thing that would have ever happened to you in your life, and you gave her away. Take a long, hard look at her. Know what you lost, because she’s mine now, and I can tell you . . .” He leans forward, putting his hands on the table. “No one will ever take her from me, nor will I ever lose her because I have my own head shoved so far up my own ass I can’t see what’s right in front of me.”