This story is intended exclusively for mature audiences. All characters depicted are fictional and over the age of 18. By continuing to read, you confirm that you are at least 18 years old and consent to viewing sexually explicit content that may be offensive to some individuals._ This is part 3, the final part, of this particular story. Here is a link to part 1 and part 2._ On their way out of the courtroom, Mrs. Reynolds held her hands folded in front of her. She walked with whatever dignity she could muster, though it was not much, and Michael could tell she would break the moment she got to her car, where she would finally be alone. Mr. Reynolds came up behind him and slapped him on the back. “Thanks, man. I’m not sure what all that was about, what with you trying to spare her the embarrassment she deserves. But either way, you gave me everything I needed to win the case, so thanks for that.” Mr. Reynolds held out his hand for Michael to shake it. Acting on instinct, Michael went to extend his hand out to meet Mr. Reynolds’, but he stopped himself. “You know…” Michael considered his words carefully. They were out of the courthouse now. The man was technically no longer his client. Still, his reputation was on the line, and that had always been the most important thing to him. And yet. “You’re a real dick,” Michael said. “You didn’t have to humiliate her like that. You were going to win. You should have just shut up and let me do my job. You’d be in the same spot, and your ex-wife wouldn’t be off crying in her car.” Mr. Reynolds was taken aback. His brow went furious. “How dare you f*cking speak to me that way? You think I care what you think? That bitch deserves everything I throw at her. The whole f*cking world ought to know what a freak she is. If it wouldn’t embarrass me so much that I was married to that pervert, I would tell the whole internet. And you know what, if you think you’re getting any more of my money after the way you just spoke to me, think again, pal. I’ll f*cking sue you to the ground if I need to.” “Keep your money,” Michael said. “And go ahead, sue a lawyer. I’m sure that will work out real well for you.” Mr. Reynolds winced. Michael knew it was a false threat. He was not brave enough to go through with it. “Oh, and enjoy your fresh payday,” Michael said. “Just remember, it came at the hands of a woman who loved you, all so you could go waste it on some bar dates and beers.” Mr. Reynolds went to say more, but Michael folded his hands in his pockets and walked away. He could hear muffled grunts behind him, but he did not bother to make them out. On his way back to his car, he spotted Mrs. Reynolds in her car, her face held in her hands as she cried, just as he suspected she would. Every inch of his body wanted to walk away. He needed to wipe his hands clean of this. And speaking to a former client’s ex-wife crossed all kinds of ethical boundaries. And yet, before he knew it, his feet were heading in that direction. And though he screamed at himself internally not to go up to her, the more quiet, calmer voice in his head told the other one to shut up. Michael walked up to her car and tapped on the window. It startled her, and her face shot up to look at him, their eyes meeting on opposite sides of the glass window. Red tear streaks ran down her face, and her eyes were puffy. They stood there, just staring at each other for some time, before Michael gestured for her to roll down the window. She did, but did not say anything. “So, um…” Michael stuttered. He had no idea what to say. What do you say to a woman who just lost everything? Let alone when it was partially because of you? “Listen,” he gathered himself. “I just want to say… I’m sorry. I’m sorry your husband was such an asshole to you. I’m sorry he said what he did in the courtroom. It was wrong of him, and I wish I could have stopped him. I tried. I didn’t want things to go there, but they just did, and… and I’m just sorry.” There was a long, awkward silence as the two stood there in the parking garage. They were the only two around. The rest of the garage, though filled with cars, had no one else in it. No more pairs of ears to hear the deafening silence. “Anyway, like I said, I’m just sorry. I won’t bother you any more.” Michael turned and walked away. His footsteps echoed throughout the empty parking lot, each step like a drum beat matching the beat of his heart, faster and faster, louder and louder. All the while, Mrs. Reynolds, or the former Mrs. Reynolds, he supposed, said nothing at all. He got about twenty feet away when he realized she was not going to speak up. He stopped where he stood, waiting for something that would not happen. He could feel her eyes inspecting him, looking him up and down as he just… stood there, wondering what it was he wanted to do. He turned to face her. “Look, I know this is dumb. And I’m an asshole for even suggesting it, but… Do you, maybe need someone? Like, to help you pack? For the move?” The former Mrs. Reynolds was dumbfounded. “Are you seriously asking me if I want my husband’s divorce attorney to help me pack up my things so that I can sell the home I just lost?” “I know how it sounds. Believe me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either. But your husband is an asshole. I wish… I wish I hadn’t represented him. I wish I’d represented you instead. But I didn’t. And maybe this is my small way of making amends.” “Right. Well, thanks but no thanks. And please kindly f*ck off and leave me alone.” That was fair. And she was right. Whatever he was doing, it was stupid, and he needed to leave. So why wasn’t he? He stood there, unmoving, and she just stared at him. “Did you not hear me? You can go.” “I’ll help you file an appeal.” The words flew out of his mouth before his brain even entertained the notion of them. “What?” The former Mrs. Reynolds looked shocked now, her eyes wide, but skeptical, as she had every right to be. “You have thirty days to file an appeal. I’ll help you do so. On the grounds that there was a conflict of interest.” “What conflict of interest?” “The fact that I’ve been staring at your pictures and watching your videos every night for the last three weeks.” The former Mrs. Reynolds lurched back. Once again, Michael understood her reasoning. For how many times the word creep got thrown around in this case, he was the one behaving like a certified stalker. “I know how it sounds, I just…” In that moment, Michael stopped giving a damn. It had been building up within him for awhile, all throughout this case, really. Something had been calling to him, something he could no longer deny. He was deeply infatuated with this woman. He wanted to be in her life. He knew he could not just insert himself into it. He would not do that to her, and besides, he had already contributed to more damage than probably anyone else she had ever met, perhaps baring her ex-husband. But he did not care anymore. He just wanted to help her, however he could, even if that meant making a fool out of himself. “Look,” he said, finding a newfound confidence in himself. He tapped into that confidence, though he did not know where it came from. It was something new to him, yet somewhat familiar. An instinct to guide, to protect. Something he had been sorely missing in his life. He let the feeling consume him. “I know how this sounds. And I don’t want anything from you. If you tell me to leave again, I will. I’ll walk away and you’ll never hear from me or have to see me ever again. But the fact is, seeing those posts you uploaded… it awoke something in me. I won’t pretend to fully understand it, or even half-understand it, honestly. But what I do understand is that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I don’t know what you saw in that asshole, but you deserve better. I’m not asking for anything in return, genuinely. I won’t pressure you or push. But if you want my help, you have it. I’ll instruct you how to write an appeal, even though I can’t do it myself. It isn’t a guarantee of anything. My conflict of interest is just as valid of an argument is his favor… but it gives you a chance. “It gives you one more chance at winning this case. I’ll tell you everything I would do and say. All the little holes I would poke in his argument and his character. He wasn’t satisfying your sexual needs. He told you your interests were disgusting, that he’d leave you if you pursued them, but they were meaningful to you, and you couldn’t leave them behind. He was a sh*tty husband who used the fact that you were working full-time to laze around all day, and this was your only escape. You just wanted to feel innocent and… safe, for a little while, right? That’s your argument, right there. “At this point, I’ll probably be disbarred… No, I definitely will, but who cares? I hate this job. I hate having to work with people like your ex-husband. I hate the person it makes me. I’ve made enough money. I’d rather live a life with integrity, where I’m true to myself. Kind of… Kind of like you.” The former Mrs. Reynolds sat stunned, unable or perhaps unwilling to say anything at all. But Michael could tell he had got through to her, even if just a little bit. The way she looked at him now, there was something there. She would never return his feelings, that was too good to be true, and far too much to ask after what he had done to her. But in that moment, through the sincerity of his words, he had reached her. “Like I said,” he continued, “It isn’t a guarantee of anything, but there’s a chance. And I’ll pull some strings, call in some favors. I’ll find someone to actually represent you. It can’t be me, but I’ll find you a good attorney. And I’ll help in any other ways I can, that won’t land me in even more trouble than I’m already about to be in.” The former Mrs. Reynolds did not say anything. She just sat there, in her car, staring at him. After about forty seconds passed, Michael realized what an idiot he was. He excused himself and turned to walk away. As he was leaving, he heard a meek voice speak up. “Maybe… we could go out to dinner, and discuss the next steps,” she said. He turned to face her once more. “I’d like that.” She nodded her head, and he could see in her demeanor that she was letting her guard down, just a bit. But it was enough for him to feel grateful. “There’s just one thing,” she said. Her cheeks went bright pink again, and suddenly, she could not bear to look him in the eyes. “I… have to go home and change first.” Michael looked down, and inside her car, he saw that the seat beneath her was soaking wet. He had been so preoccupied by the ludicrousness of what was happening that he had failed to notice her obvious accident. He did not fail to notice the sudden tingling in his crotch. “What happened?” “I… I was crying, and I was just so upset, and well… I knew I had to go to the bathroom, but in the moment, I figured ‘Who cares?’ ya’ know? It was stupid… And now I’m stuck in this wet dress and seat.” “I’ll help.” He spoke without thinking again. Her eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean… please ignore me.” He went to turn when she spoke up. “N-no… it’s alright. I don’t need help, thanks. But… maybe we could just do dinner at my place. I’m a pretty good cook… And in case the appeal doesn’t work out, I should at least use that beautiful oven a few more times before I have to start looking into selling the place.” Michael couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Suddenly unable to find his words, all he did was nod. “What’s your name?” she asked. “Oh! Um… Michael. My name is Michael. What’s yours?” “Don’t you know my first name already? Wasn’t it in the legal paperwork?” “Yeah… it just felt like the thing to ask.” She laughed. He was not sure if it was out of pity, or at the sheer silliness of it all. But either way, he made her laugh. And that made his chest feel warm, like the feeling of the sun gently bearing down on one’s skin. He smiled, and when she noticed him smiling, she smiled too. “Diana. My name’s Diana. It was my grandmother’s name.” “It’s nice to properly meet you, Diana.” They stayed there, in the empty parking lot, just looking at each other. Smiling. _ There it is, folks. Thank you to anyone who read every part, it truly means the world to me. I put a lot of work into this story, more than I usually have to for kink writing, and I'm quite happy with how it turned out. I know the ending may feel unsatisfying for some, but I felt it was the right place to leave things. Anything beyond this starts getting into wish fulfillment territory, and I don't think that's appropriate for the tone of this story. That said, if you are so inclined, feel free to imagine whatever happily ever after, or lack thereof, for these characters that you can come up with. I know how I think things would turn out, but your head canon is just as valid as my own in this case, as this is where I have chosen to end it. So what happens next is entirely up to your heart's desire.
