It was over. After almost a year of fighting, after years of marriage to a woman who'd made her believe she was fundamentally unlovable, it was actually over.
Astoria turned her head toward the gallery.
Miller was still there, sitting and watching. And when their eyes met this time, Miller smiled, small and genuine and warm.
You stood up and told the truth to help me,Astoria thought.
The courtroom was beginning to empty as people filtered out, the low buzz of conversation filling the space. Gerald wassaying something about paperwork, next steps, the press waiting outside, but Astoria heard none of it.
By the time she left the courtroom, the press was waiting for her on the courthouse steps.
Astoria saw them through the glass doors before she pushed through—a cluster of cameras and microphones, reporters jostling for position, the particular hungry energy of people who smelled a story.
Gerald's hand found her elbow, steadying. “I’ll handle the statement. You don’t have to say or do anything.”
She nodded, grateful. The doors opened, and the August heat hit her like a wall, thick and still, the summer refusing to break. Voices erupted immediately.
“Ms. Shepry, how do you feel about the verdict?”
“Astoria! Over here!”
“Will you be making a statement about your ex-wife’s claims?”
Gerald stepped forward, positioning himself between Astoria and the cameras. “Ms. Shepry is pleased with the court's ruling and looks forward to putting this matter behind her. She will not be taking questions at this time.”
Astoria stood behind him, her face neutral as she scanned the crowd. The reporters weren't who she was looking for.
There. Off to the side, away from the press scrum, standing near the base of the steps was Miller.
She was watching Astoria with an expression that made something twist in her chest, something hesitant and uncertain but hopeful, like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to be here.
Gerald was still fielding questions, his voice droning in the background.
Astoria touched his arm lightly. “I need a moment,” she said quietly.
He followed her gaze, saw Miller, and nodded once. No judgment, no questions. “Take your time. I'll wrap this up.”
Astoria descended the remaining steps, moving past the reporters who parted for her automatically without seeming to notice she was leaving. Her heels clicked against the concrete. The sun was too bright, the air too heavy, and her heart was beating too fast for something as simple as walking toward someone.
She stopped a few feet from Miller. Close enough to talk, but still far enough to retreat if she needed to.
“Hi,” Miller said.
“Hi.”
A pause stretched between them, filled with five weeks of silence and everything that had happened before it.
“Congratulations,” Miller said finally. “You won.”
“Because of you.” The words came out before Astoria could think better of them. “Monday, what you did?—”
“I told the truth.” Miller shook her head slightly. “That's all.”
Astoria shook her head. “No, you testified against your own firm's client. You risked your career.”
“Some things are worth the risk,” she said in a hushed tone.
The words hung in the air. Astoria felt them land somewhere deep, in a place she'd kept locked for a very long time.
