**A Remarkable Case**
“Your Honour, I withdraw my financial claim against the defendant,” Thomas said quietly. A murmur of confusion rippled through the courtroom.
The judge, accustomed to every manner of spectacle, raised an eyebrow.
“Mr. Thompson, you understand this decision wont affect the verdict but will forfeit your right to compensation?”
“I do.”
Emily Carterthough young, her colleagues addressed her formallycontinued typing without emotion. Five years in this job had numbed her to human folly. She was the conductor of a train loaded with other peoples tragedies, recording them with mechanical precision.
The case against Lydia M. was the kind the press loved. A con artist who had swindled “suitors” on dating sites, extracting large sums from four men shed never met. One believed her family had been in an accident, another that her ex-husband was taking everything, even the cutlery.
“Nothing new here,” Emily thought as she prepared the files. Four grown men, convinced they could rescue a damsel in distress with their wallets. In reality, theyd been messaging a married mother of three.
Now, they sat in courtvictims and accused alike. Three of the men were knots of bitterness, demanding restitution. They werent wrong. The law was on their side. Emilys pen moved automatically: *moral damages, deceit, fraudulent intent.*
Thomas Thompson sat apart, his posture devoid of anger or pity. When he waived his claim, the room fell silent. One of the men spun around.
“Have you lost your mind? She played you for a fool! That money probably bought her husband a new phone!”
Thomas met his gaze with quiet sorrow.
“I know. But she has three children. Let the money go to them. I dont want it back.”
Emily looked up, startled. Generosity was rare in these walls. She studied his handsa welders calloused fingers laced calmly on his kneesand his eyes, weary but free of malice. In a world where everyone fought for scraps, he simply let go.
After the hearing, a defence lawyer scoffed.
“That fourth ones a hopeless romantic. Naïve as a child.”
Emily, usually silent, countered,
“Thats not naivety. Its strength. The kind money cant buy.”
The room stilled. Even she was surprised by her words.
In the following days, she caught herself watching himhow he listened without interrupting, how his gaze lingered on the courtroom window as if searching the grey sky for answers.
On the verdicts final day, he lingered in the corridor, disoriented. Emily stepped out.
“Which way are you headed?” she asked briskly.
“Nowhere in particular,” he smiled. “Got turned around in these hallways.”
“Exits that way,” she nodded.
“Thanks.”
He took a few steps before she called after him.
“Thomas?”
He turned, puzzled.
“You were right,” she said, her voice unsteady. “About the children. It was decent of you.”
He studied her.
“You know, Emily” He hesitated, unsure how to address her.
“Em,” she offered.
“Em. Kindness is rare, especially here. Thank you for noticing.”
He left. She watched him go, feeling her long-dormant heart quicken.
What came next? Rain. A downpour as Thomas stepped outside. He paused under the awning, debating a sprint to the bus stop.
A voice spoke behind him.
“Weve a government-issue umbrella. Meant for documents, but I suppose it could rescue a decent man.”
It was Emily, holding a black umbrella. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, as if she couldnt believe her own boldness.
“I dont want to keep you,” he said.
“My shifts over. Im walking to the park. If youre headed that way”
They walked side by side, careful not to touch. The silence was comfortable.
“You always defend plaintiffs like that?” he asked eventually.
“Never,” she admitted. “Youre the first who acted illogically. It surprised me.”
“Maybe it was foolish.”
“It was rare. And rare things are precious.”
At the park, the rain softened to a drizzle.
“Fancy a walk?” he asked. “If youve time.”
She hesitated a second. *Breach of protocol, Miss Carter,* she thought, but nodded. Thomas stared at the clearing sky. She let him gather his thoughts.
“This is new for me,” he said abruptly. “People usually think Im odd.”
“Because you didnt turn bitter. These days, thats eccentric.”
He gave her a searching look.
“And you? Do you think Im eccentric?”
“I think youre real. Thats priceless. In my line of work, real is scarce.”
He paused.
“Want to know why? Why I fell for her lies?”
She nodded.
He sighed, gaze distant.
“It startedand endedin school. Her name was Lily. What I felt wasnt just love. She was everything bright and unattainable. We were *that* coupleprom king and queen. Carried her books, danced at graduation I believed it was forever. So did everyone else. We were the perfect pair.”
“Then she left. Moved to London for university, married a classmate. Sent me a postcard. Can you believe it? Not a letter, not a call. Just three words: *Sorry. Its better.*”
“I shut down. Became a weldergood work if you want to drown your thoughts in noise. Built walls around my heart, but inside, I was still that boy who believed in one love for life.”
“Then I saw *her* photo onlinethe con artist. She looked like Lily. But it was the caption that got me: *Still believe in love.* Pathetic, right? I messaged her. And she wrote back all the things Id waited years to hearabout forever, about loyalty. I ignored the red flags because I *needed* to believe the fairy tale still existed. I wasnt buying her lies. I was buying the echo of my own dream.”
“Funny thing? The trial freed me. Seeing herjust a scared, ordinary womanshattered the illusion. Lilys ghost finally let go. That money? Payment for an exorcism. Pricey, but effective.”
He fell silent, awaiting her verdicta condemnation of his naivety. Instead, she placed her hand over his. Hers was warm and steady.
“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered. “Now I understand. Youre not odd. Youre true to yourself.”
***
At work, Emily was known for her professionalismcool, efficient, all business. When colleagues spotted her with Thomas, whispers began.
Judge Margaret Collins, whose glare could silence a riot, broke the ice.
“Well, Miss Carters surprised us. Thought she had a filing cabinet for a heart. Now shes sweet on our noble plaintiff.”
Her colleague, Judge Ian Reeves, smirked.
“With his idealism, hes more defendant than victimcharged with chronic gullibility. Is our Emily reforming him?”
“Enough cynicism,” Margaret chided, though her lips twitched. “Mans hardworking, decent hands. And that gesture in court uncommon to see principles trump pounds.”
In the break room, solicitor James shook his head.
“Last thing I expecteda courtroom romance. Bloody soap opera.”
Emily changed. Still sharp, but softer. A silver chain appeared at her neck. Colleagues split into cynics and romantics.
The men jeered: “Save the date, lads. Youll be witnessesI saw the defendant steal the secretarys heart.”
The women swooned: “Its beautiful! Emilys always so stern. And hes wounded but kind. And handsome. Straight out of a novel!”
Accountant Valerie huffed.
“Enough envy. Whens the last time any of you met a man with a good heart? Shes lucky. Let her have this.”
One morning, Ian couldnt resist.
“Miss Carter, hows your chivalrous plaintiff? Sued anyone else out of the goodness of his heart?”
The room held its breath.
Emily sipped her tea, eyes calm.
“Judge Reeves, if youre *so* interested in closed cases, I can grant full archive access. Fancy revisiting Case #3-452/18? Or #2-187/19? Such *colourful* defendants.”
Ian choked. He knewshed processed his files too.
“N-No, Emily, I just”
“Your concerns touching,” she said sweetly. “But my private life isnt on trial. Yet.”
The teasing stopped. Respectful curiosity took its place. The final blow came when Thomas dropped her off one morning, stepping out to adjust her coat collar. A simple gesture, so tender it silenced even the skeptics.
That day, Margaret pulled her aside.
“Hes good, Emily. It shows. Hold onto him.”
Emily nodded.
“Thank you, Margaret. I know.”
The gossip died. Colleagues understood: their unflappable secretary had passed her own verdict*Pardoned. To love. To be happy.* And it was final.
