Winning My Ex-Crush

Laird’s POV

“Have you gone mad?” I growled under my breath.

Alan and I moved to a secluded corner of the empty hallway behind the courtroom. My eyes flared as I stared at Alan’s face, still seeming to view this trial as mere play.

“Laird, read the prosecutor’s charges to me again. Read them aloud right in front of my face,” he said, pointing to the papers I held in my hand.

“What’s your problem with that?” I asked irritably.

“Don’t you realize the prosecutor is playing games with us? Read through all his charges carefully!” Alan raised his voice.

“You don’t need to tell me to read aloud as if I were a child. I remember perfectly well what’s in there.” I clenched my fist and squeezed the papers tightly.

“If you’ve already read it, why are you telling me to plead guilty to everything?”

“Because that’s what you want. You were the one who said at the precinct that you would bear all the punishments for her. Did you hit your head and get amnesia?” I furrowed my brow.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yes, but I didn’t expect to be charged with assault. I didn’t do it at all! I didn’t even scratch their skin,” he insisted with his confession.

“All the prosecutor’s charges are nonsense. You know yourself; he’s demanding a $5, 000 fine, a 6-month driving suspension, and 7 days in jail! Imagine that!” He gestured wildly.

“So what? Are you backing out because you’re afraid of spending less than a week in jail? Besides, you’ve already spent two days, right?” I asked with a crooked smile.

“Oh, I’m not afraid, darling,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, I’m not afraid. I’m just thinking about my reputation. Having a criminal record from that jail will stick with me for life,” he wagged his finger in disagreement.

“Then why? You knew the consequences from the start, didn’t you?” I shrugged.

“I thought this case could be settled with a fine. Being jailed for 7 days? Oh, no,” he chuckled neurotically.

“Mr. Evans, have you ever been locked up? Two days of it were enough for me. I won’t waste my valuable time in that disgusting cell again,” he stated firmly.

“Listen, whatever you deny won’t be useful now. Didn’t you hear what Prosecutor Golden said?” I emphasized.

“He said he’s going to call witnesses and review the CCTV footage from the time of the incident. That means he has evidence. If we’re caught covering up the truth, the punishment could be much harsher,” I whispered, looking around to ensure no one could overhear us.

“Do you want all of us to be jailed for over a month?” I tightened my fists.

“Yes, but he didn’t immediately charge Fenella with any accusations, right? That could mean anything. That could mean he doesn’t have clear evidence showing what really happened, right?” His eyes gleamed as if he had come up with a brilliant idea.

“We can still win this with a lighter sentence,” he smiled broadly, but the anxiety in his darting eyes was evident.

Seeing Alan Schmidt so terrified of jail cells made me chuckle for a moment. Especially with all his absurd ideas.

“What kind of lighter sentence? Do you think going through months of a full-time trial is worth avoiding a 7-day jail term? Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Schmidt.” I laughed and shook my head.

“Would it really be that long?” Alan asked confusedly.

“I don’t know. It all depends on how the case develops in court,” I shrugged.

“Just so you know, Mr. Schmidt, Prosecutor Golden is known as the piranha of the New York courtroom. Do you know why?” I asked.

“Because he’s notorious for tearing apart all his opponents in trial,” I growled with a low voice, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You’re telling me, someone who just got their lawyer’s license six months ago, to go up against that veteran prosecutor for months in trial just to avoid a 7-day jail sentence?” I sighed lazily.

“Why don’t you just kill me now instead of torturing me like this?” I growled in a low tone.

I stared intensely into Alan’s eyes. Several seconds passed in silence to let my words sink in for him. It seemed he was starting to understand who our opponent was, all the risks involved, and the right actions he should take.

“Why don’t you stay a hero in Fenella’s eyes? Isn’t that what you want? Her praise and devotion,” I said coldly.

Though I disagreed, I felt that was a convincing enough reason to steer Alan back to his senses. Alan might indeed be gay, but who’s to say he couldn’t also long for a woman? He might be queer or pansexual. That means there’s still a chance that he likes Fenella.

After much thought and analysis, I came to the conclusion that I kept repeating to myself. He likes Fenella.

I don’t know if his liking is in a sexual context or just platonic admiration. One thing I’m certain of is that Alan will always find ways to get my girl’s attention, even if it means causing turmoil in today’s trial.

The bailiff emerged from the side door of the courtroom and cleared his throat loudly.

“Gentlemen, five minutes are up,” the bailiff warned us.

Upon hearing that, Alan jerked his head towards the courtroom door. The anxiety on his face hadn’t disappeared. Then he turned to look at me, as if recalling all my words in his mind.

We re-entered the courtroom. Still in the defendant’s chairs and table, we stood side by side. Prosecutor Golden sat at the prosecution table opposite us on the right. The man’s face showed a smile with sparks of determination in his eyes.

Fight against him. Ha! I wouldn’t be that fucked up.

“Let’s continue the trial,” Judge Brown banged her gavel again.

“Mr. Schmidt, I hope you’re not wasting any more time. Do you plead guilty to all charges?”

Judge Brown asked again in a calmer tone. It seemed she had composed herself to be more patient with Alan. However, I knew Judge Brown’s patience wouldn’t be much greater than this.

“Alan, stop this nonsense. Plead guilty,” I whispered to him.