4. Attorney
1729 Words
Thumper POV
The clean shirt felt almost unreal against my skin — warm, soft, dry. For a second, I actually felt… alive. Human again. But the relief didn’t last long. Because right behind it came the guilt.
Three shirts.
Fifty dollars each.
One hundred and fifty dollars I now owed him.
That was money I should’ve saved for a cheap attorney. Money that could’ve kept me out of trouble. Money I did not have.
And I had told him the truth. About the tent. About the lake. About surviving, not living.
Why did I do that?
Why couldn’t I just stay quiet and pretend I was fine like always?
Now he wanted to see where I lived.
Panic pressed into my chest like a weight.
I gripped the sink and stared at my reflection — red eyes, freckles of exhaustion, a woman who kept breaking in public places.
“I’m going to get fired,” I whispered to myself. “And I won’t be able to afford a lawyer. And then I’ll get arrested for failing to comply with the court…”
My voice faded.
It sounded dramatic — but it also felt true.
I took a shaky breath and forced words out, even though courage wasn’t really part of it.
“Well… time to face the music.”
I turned toward the door, ready to step back into whatever storm waited for me — but the memory of Dominic saying he wanted to see where I lived hit me again like cold water.
What if he thought I was unstable?
What if he reported me?
What if honesty had just ruined the only safe thing I had left — my job?
The thought of being institutionalized made my stomach twist. Maybe I could ask my boss for more hours. Maybe if I worked until I broke, I could keep my head above water just long enough to survive this divorce.
I walked toward the front of the store — and froze.
Dominic wasn’t alone.
He was speaking to a woman in a sleek, expensive suit — the kind of fabric that moves like it costs more than my yearly income. She had the calm posture of someone used to being listened to — professional, polished, probably from one of those upscale offices in the luxury apartment complex next door.
She did not look like the type of person who ever lost everything.
The moment Dominic saw me, his expression changed completely — softening, brightening — and he smiled. A real smile. For me.
He lifted a hand slightly.
“Come here,” he said gently.
And my heart started racing again — not from fear this time…
…but from the terrifying thought that someone might finally be choosing to stand beside me.
Standing beside Dominic, I suddenly felt small and awkward again — like I didn’t quite belong in the same space as him. The woman he’d been speaking with turned toward me, and I finally saw her clearly.
She was stunning — long wavy black hair, perfect red lipstick, and makeup done with the kind of precision you only see on people who never rush. But her smile… her smile wasn’t sharp or judging. It was warm. Soft. Kind.
She extended her hand toward me.
“My name is Sabrina.”
I returned the smile as best as I could and shook her hand. “Thumper. It’s nice to meet you.”
Her smile never wavered — but her eyes softened even more.
“I’m a divorce attorney,” she said gently. “And Dominic is a good friend of mine — one I owe a debt to. He called me and asked for help, even asked if he could use that debt on your behalf. Could you tell me your current status in the divorce?”
I blinked.
A divorce attorney.
Just… standing here.
Talking to me.
I hadn’t expected help. Not here. Not today. Certainly not from someone like her.
“I… I don’t really know,” I admitted, anxiety immediately rushing forward. “I was served the papers this morning. I can show them to you, if you give me a second to grab them.”
She nodded and released my hand.
My feet moved fast — almost as if I was afraid the opportunity would vanish if I hesitated. I hurried to the back, grabbed the yellow folder exactly as it had been handed to me, and returned to her.
As she opened it, she handed me a business card. I read it as she read my life.
Right then, reality hit me — I needed a phone. Not tomorrow. Not eventually. Now.
So I rushed to the electronics aisle and grabbed the cheapest burner phone we sold. My hands shook while I rang it up and tore into the packaging, entering numbers and passwords like my life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
Dominic’s voice drifted over from where he was prepping the coolers.
“You don’t have a phone?”
I didn’t look up — I was multitasking, setting the phone up while still ringing customers — but I answered anyway.
“No. This will be my first one since I got kicked out of my parents’ estate.”
For a split second, a low, rough sound rumbled through the store.
A growl.
I froze — eyes darting toward the door.
It sounded close. Real. Animal.
Panic twisted through me. I hurried to the back near the cigarette case, scanning everywhere — but there was no dog. No wolf. Nothing.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered urgently. “A wolf — I swear, Dom, I heard a wolf growling inside the store.”
When I looked back at him, he already had his phone lifted in his hand. His expression was carefully calm.
“Sorry,” he said smoothly. “I was watching a music video earlier. It must’ve autoplayed. There was a wolf in it.”
My heart was still racing — but I nodded slowly.
“Right. Yeah. Okay.”
And as the panic faded, the silence around us felt suddenly too loud.
The store had finally gone quiet — that sleepy lull between afternoon and night where even the air feels tired. The only sounds were the faint hum of the coolers and the soft shuffle of paper as Sabrina flipped through the divorce documents.
Dominic had stepped away to restock the refrigerators, but I could still feel him — like his presence left a warmth behind, a gravity that tugged at me even when he wasn’t close.
“Mmm,” Sabrina murmured thoughtfully.
My stomach tightened. That sound never meant anything simple. She looked up at me, green eyes softer now, like she’d just stepped inside the mess of my life and seen the damage.
“It seems I’m taking on the debt Dominic has over me,” she said gently. “Is there any proof that you cheated on your husband — or that you’re still accessing his savings?”
The words felt like a slap. Shame. Anger. Hurt. All of it tangled together. I swallowed hard, trying to piece together the little courage I had left.
“I never cheated on my husband,” I said — my voice small but steady. “And we didn’t have a prenup. It was a mutual union. I don’t know why he’s claiming otherwise — but I know where to get a copy of the marriage certificate. And there’s camera footage from what happened here today. I can ask my manager for it… and maybe the woman who complained earlier will give a statement too.”
Footsteps moved behind her, he kept walking till he was behind me — quiet but certain — and I knew without turning that it was him.
Dominic.
His presence wrapped around me like heat — protective, grounding — and when he spoke, his voice was low and certain.
“The cameras are already covered. You don’t need to worry about that.”
I looked over at him.
He wasn’t just standing there — he was anchored. His jaw tense, shoulders squared, eyes locked on Sabrina as if daring the world to try and hurt me again.
Then he looked at me, and something softened — something warm and fierce all at once.
“And as for the marriage certificate,” he continued, “I’ll take you myself. We’ll get whatever you need.”
His gaze held mine — unwavering.
“And don’t even think about saying you owe me. You don’t. Not now. Not ever — not as long as you’re my friend.”
The word friend landed differently than I expected. It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t light.
It was a promise.
Sabrina pressed her lips together — almost like she was fighting a smile — and I suddenly felt like there was more being said than I fully understood. But what choice did I have except trust?
And… for the first time in a long time…
I wanted to.
The rest happened in a blur. After my shift, Dominic drove me to the county office. He stayed close — not hovering, not controlling — just there. A solid presence to lean on. He insisted on carrying things for me. He held doors. He stood a little closer than necessary — not touching…
…but warm enough that I could feel him.
By the time we reached the place where I lived, my chest already felt tight. Shame twisted inside me. Watching him take pictures of the tent — of the life I’d been reduced to — made something inside me crack open.
He didn’t laugh.
Didn’t pity me.
Didn’t flinch.
He just… gathered everything quietly. Carefully. Like the wind might bruise me if he wasn’t gentle enough.
And then — without discussion, without giving me room to protest —
He refused to leave me there.
So now…
I’m living with him.
At least until the first hearing.
And every time I look at him — the way he watches me, the way his jaw tightens when he thinks I’m not paying attention — I can feel it:
He wants me safe.
He wants me protected.
He wants… me.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
Because for the first time since my world fell apart…
My heart wants him back.
- Writer
