002

In the back of the courtroom, the dark haired beauty known as Kaitlynn Stryfe nibbled on her thumbnail, a nervous habit that she'd never quite been able to break. As the man in the witness box spoke, extolling the virtues of the monster who'd tormented her and nearly ruined her entire life, she felt herself inching closer and closer to tears. She looked neither beautiful nor well-rested as she reached up with her other hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

At the front of the courtroom, the defense attorney rose from his seat as the prosecution had just rested. On the stand was a guy named Frankie Malloy, the prosecution's star witness against Gambini, whom sat at the table, an expressionless gaze written upon his face.

"Mr. Malloy, is it true that you used to work for Anthony Gambini?" The pudgy defense attorney asked. Malloy wore a two piece suit, with enough oil in his hair to recreate the BP spill in the Gulf.

"Yes, sir. I did." He responded.

"What did you do for Mr. Gambini during your time in his employment?"

"I took care of the little things. I cleaned up after his messes, so to speak." Malloy's Italian accent was thick.

"Can you be more specific?"

Malloy looked to the prosecutor and back to the defense attorney, as though silently asking for permission to answer. "Basically put, I disposed of the bodies."

"What bodies?"

"The ones he had killed."

"Objection! Speculation!"

The words bodies and killed echoed in her mind as she looked down at her lap, picking a stray dog hair from her pants. Lifting her head, she caught sight of her husband in profile, seated at the prosecution's table. She could still remember Gambini's threats to end his life, and how happy she'd felt to see him in once piece after the FBI had raided that last blackmail meeting...


Seated in the back of the Lincoln Town Car that he'd sent for her, she was shaking, literally trembling with nerves. Still staring at the Direct Message window of her Twitter app on her Blackberry, she was reading and re-reading his messages over and over, almost obsessively.

"He doesn't hate me," she whispered, almost incredulous as she let her eyes drift closed, breathing a sigh of relief.

After all the lies, and all the drama that had gone down between them since Christmastime, she was finally getting the opportunity to look him in the eye and tell him the truth. That, and not the prospect of the rejection that she'd been so afraid of, was what was turning her into a nervous wreck.

Making a small whining sound in the back of her throat, she finally let the screen go dark, and dropped her phone back into her purse. She'd spent enough time in Chicago to know that they were getting close to her destination, and she was already itching to get up out of the car and stretch her legs. Extra energy was usually a good thing... unless she was trying to be patient and poised. Then it was a train wreck waiting to happen.

The car rolled to a stop beneath the overhang of one of Chicago's nicest hotels-- The Four Seasons, and she let out a low whistle. Suddenly she felt very under-dressed in the jeans and blouse that she'd worn to her pathetic waitressing job. The rear door opened, letting in a blast of wintry air as the chauffeur smiled down at her.

"Take the elevator in the lobby up to the penthouse suites. Level P3," he told her, holding out a hand to help her get up, "and then turn left. He's expecting you, Ma'am."

Blushing, she bowed her head as she thanked him in a soft voice before striking out for the door. What seemed like a split second later, she was already riding up in the elevator, much too shaken/worried/excited to even think about her usual claustrophobia. When the elevator dinged, and the doors rolled open, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Relax," she whispered to herself, laughing softly at her silliness as she turned to the left and marched down the hallway towards the only door she saw. She lifted her fist to knock, forcing herself to smile even though she felt like she was about to either break down sobbing, or puke in the potted palm that rested a few feet away.

For her sake, the puking wouldn't have done her any favors. The door opened, the soft hum of an orchestra playing what sounded like Bach would greet her. Standing across from her, there he was. Time had not changed his appearance in the slightest as he wore a black and white two piece suit with the tie unfastened and hanging limply around his neck. Her choice of ensemble wasn't exactly on par with his, noticeable by his eyes looking her up and down and stepping back from the door.

"Come in, Kaitlynn. Make yourself comfortable. Though from all appearances, it would seem that is going to be quite the task."

"Oh, my." She sighed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks again, "I didn't realize I needed to dress up." Her eyes met his, despite her embarrassment, and she felt that familiar fluttering in her stomach that she'd felt since the first time they'd met. "Alex, you look..." she trailed off, failing to find the right word to describe just how amazing he looked in that moment. Instead of completing her sentence, she accepted his invitation, and moved inside the suite, buoyed by the beautiful music.

"You're too kind. Please take a seat." He let the door shut behind her, gesturing towards a bucket where a bottle of champagne sat on ice with two goblets on either side of that. "Something told me that we were going to need this in order to make this evening a bit less stressful. Have a seat, I'll be happy to do the honors." Picking up a cork remover from the right goblet, he slid it into the wooden peg and quickly popped it out before filling both glasses to half capacity and offering her one.

She took it with a trembling hand, and then sat down, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a tentative sip. It tasted like heaven. Sweet and bubbly-- she knew if she wasn't careful it would go right to her head. "Stressful?" She finally found her voice and echoed the word he'd said, frowning slightly. "I don't see how things could get much worse than they already have. There's nowhere to go from here but up."

Alex took a seat a few inches away from her, taking a sip of his champagne before setting it down onto the table. "Kaitlynn, I say we go ahead and address the purple elephant in the room. It's hanging in the air like a musty odor. The reason I asked you here is because I know everything now. I know the details, and I know I wrongly accused you of misdeeds." It was never easy for him to admit when he was wrong. And that likely wasn't going to happen now. "The reason you are here now is twofold. One, the room you were in with Gambini the day the FBI stormed the building, it was bugged. I heard the despicable conversation you endured. And two, it seems Mr. Gambini doesn't keep his ducks in a row as someone very close to him turned state's evidence against him. And in his sworn confession, I was made aware of the rest."

"You heard... all of that?" She sighed, looking down at the bubbles in her glass, completely mortified, "I'm sorry you had to hear that disgusting pig. I... didn't actually do anything sexual to him. You know that, right?" Just like her to skip around everything else he'd said, and rush right into assuring that he knew she'd still been faithful right until that last awful second.

"Yes, I heard everything and I know you didn't do what he had asked." He was silent for a moment, letting the chamber music fill the air. "I know you have been faithful to me since our estrangement. I listened to the wrong people, and I was not told everything by everyone I should have been told. However, for what it is worth....." Trailing off, he seemed to look for the words. "I have also been faithful to you."

"You..." her voice caught, tears filling her eyes, "have?" Necessity betrayed her, and she had to blink, causing the tears to spill down her cheeks as she set aside her empty champagne glass. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry. All of this... it's my fault. I should have just told you the truth from the start."

His eyes closed, head shaking as if he were in some disagreement. "Kaitlynn, I would...I would rather not go into the details of all this anymore. For the last four months, this has been tumbling about in my mind. And no matter how much it does, I always arrive back at the same conclusion. That I wish it had never happened, and I wish I never had to think about it again." His eyes closed yet again, a deep breath exiting his nostrils as he seemed to be holding something back. When his hand wiped his face, it was obvious what it was. "For once in this life, let's let the past...be the past."

She moved to her feet and crossed over to where he sat, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Right now, she just needed to assure herself that this was real. Looking into his eyes as the tears flowed from hers, she nodded, "it's over, and from here, there's nothing but..." her breath caught, "the future." Her hand lifted to his cheek as she managed a watery smile, "I love you, Alex. I never stopped."

His eyes remained closed, head dropping and bowing as though he were praying. A moment passed, the music still filling the air. Eyes opening, he looked back into his wife's eyes and nodded his head. "I love you too." Another moment of chamber music hung in the air. "Nothing ever changed."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in and pressing her lips to his cheek, unsure of how broken they still were. She didn't want to drift back into that horrible awkwardness that had existed the first few seconds she'd been here. It was at that moment that she realized what the song was that was playing softly-- Moonlight Sonata, one of her favorites...



"The prosecution would like to call its next witness. The state calls Alexander Stryfe."

The mention of her husband's name snapped her from her reverie, and she watched as he moved to the witness box, looking as handsome and confident as ever.

"Mr. Stryfe, please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the whole truth-"