The Lake Between Us chapter 3

Leon understood. Perfectly. The conversation ended there. No threats. No shouting. No demands. Only

the quiet certainty that some doors, once opened, would never close again.

From that evening onward... Leon stopped trying to save his marriage. He stopped asking where Clara

went. Stopped waiting for dinner. Stopped expecting honesty. He worked later. Accepted every

difficult case. Stayed in the office until the cleaning staff began switching lights off around

him. People assumed he was ambitious. Only Leon knew the truth. The courthouse had become the only

place that still felt honest. Home was merely the place where he slept. Sometimes.

Leon rarely noticed the attention. Or perhaps he noticed it and had simply learned not to

acknowledge it. There was a certain ease in the way people behaved around him. Junior attorneys

sought his advice before difficult hearings. Investigators trusted his judgment. Even the

administrative staff found excuses to stop by his office, sometimes with paperwork, sometimes with

nothing more than a question they probably already knew the answer to. Sarah Collins was no

exception. She arrived a few minutes before nine carrying two paper cups balanced carefully in one

hand and a stack of motions in the other. Without knocking, she nudged the office door open with her

shoulder. "I was already downstairs," she said, placing one of the cups beside his legal pad.

"Thought I'd save you the trip." Leon looked up from the photographs spread across his desk. "You

didn't have to." "I know." She smiled, the kind of smile that came naturally to her. "But you

would've forgotten again." He glanced at the cup. Black coffee. No sugar. Exactly the way he drank

it. "Thank you, Sarah." "You're welcome." For a second she lingered, as though considering whether

to say something else. Instead she simply straightened one of the folders on his desk. "You've got

the Mitchell hearing at ten." "I remember." "I figured you would." Another smile. Then she

left. Leon was already reading again before the door clicked shut.

Outside, Sarah leaned quietly against the hallway wall for a brief moment. She laughed at herself under her

breath. Every conversation with Leon Hartman lasted less than two minutes. Somehow, they were still the best two minutes

of her morning. She knew perfectly well he was married. Everyone did. His wedding band had never left his hand. Not

once. He never flirted. Never crossed a line. Never gave anyone a reason to wonder. Perhaps that was exactly why she

admired him. In a profession where scandals spread faster than verdicts, Leon Hartman remained almost impossibly

decent. Untouchable. She had long ago accepted that whatever quiet affection lived inside her was hers alone to carry.

An hour later, Michael Brooks wandered into Leon's office without bothering to knock. "You know Collins is becoming

painfully obvious." Leon didn't lift his eyes from the case file. "No." "Oh, come on." Silence. Michael dropped into the

chair opposite him. "She remembers your coffee order better than her own." Leon continued reading. "She's kind." Michael

sighed. "That's your conclusion?" "It's accurate." Michael watched him for another moment before shaking his head. "You

really don't see it." "I choose not to." That answer finally earned Michael's attention. He leaned forward. "You've been

living separately in everything but paperwork for two years." Leon closed the file. Slowly. Deliberately. "I am still

married." "And?" "And that should be enough." Michael rubbed a hand across his face. "For God's sake, Leon... you barely

speak to Clara anymore." Leon looked toward the courthouse windows. Beyond the glass, the city stretched endlessly

beneath a pale autumn sky. "I made vows." Michael laughed once. Without humor. "So did she." Neither of them

spoke. Finally Michael said quietly, "You could at least have dinner with Sarah." Leon turned back to him. "You want

tomorrow's headline?" Michael frowned. "'Golden Prosecutor Dating Young Colleague While Still Married.'" He let the

imaginary headline settle between them. "My career wouldn't survive the accusation." "It isn't an accusation if it's

true." "No." Leon slipped his wedding band absentmindedly with his thumb, a habit so unconscious he didn't seem to

notice it. "It becomes a scandal long before anyone cares about the truth." Michael knew there was another sentence Leon

wasn't saying. One they both understood without words. Judge Malvern would make sure of it. The subject ended

there. Like so many things in Leon Hartman's life... it ended in silence.