On My Own

My fiancée and my best friend were the top partners at a multi-million-dollar law firm, while I was just the guy handling the administrative work. In the courtroom, they were in perfect sync, trading fierce legal arguments and sharing an effortless dynamic. In their personal lives, they casually flirted through law jokes that only the two of them understood. I could never get a word in, edge-wise. Every time they laughed, I offered a painfully awkward smile. Even at my mother's funeral, nothing changed. They chatted merrily in front of her coffin, eventually breaking into audible laughter. “Clara, can you greet the guests?” I called out to her. I was the only child in the family, and as my fiancée, she was supposed to help me out with the funeral service. Anxious, I reached out to pull Clara forward, but she brushed my hand away. “Stop making a scene, Jack. Ethan and I are discussing something important.” Ethan just shrugged lightly. “Jack, it’s fine not to greet the guests. It's just a funeral service. Your mom's already gone, so who cares?” With that, the two of them jumped back into their legal discussion. The conversation grew so intense that they decided to head back to the office right then and there to pull court records. I was left standing frozen, my hands stiff in the air. In our three years together, I had been abandoned like this countless times. Gritting my teeth, I stepped up to greet the guests. Clara and Ethan paused for a second, startled. Then, they casually went right back to their conversation as if nothing had happened. Before my mom passed, she had praised what a good wife Clara would be in the future, but now it all felt like a sick joke. This empty, meaningless relationship had to end right now. Chapter 1 Seeing my grief-stricken father standing beside me, I stopped Clara Jennings. “For Dad’s sake, can you at least stay until the funeral is over? Please?” Ethan Dunn grabbed her coat. Clara didn’t even bother to look up. “Peter, this case is very important. I’ll make it up to you later.” Make it up to me? When she forgot my birthday and went to take a walk along the riverbank with Ethan, she said she would make it up to me. When I had appendicitis surgery and she abandoned me to celebrate Ethan winning gold at a major competition, she said she would make it up to me. And now, when I had just lost my mother and needed her the most, she was still using that same line to brush me off. In our three years together, I had received far too many of her promises, yet not a single one had ever come true. Ethan glanced at me with a hint of pity in his eyes. “Forget it, maybe we should stay and keep Peter company, and leave after the funeral is over.” Clara sighed, gave in with a smile, and only then agreed to stay. She backed down, but it was painfully obvious whose sake she did it for. A dead silence fell over the room for three seconds. Suddenly, the front door was kicked open, and a huge gust of wind swept through the room. “So you’re the ones trying to sue our boss? That old lady died in a simple car accident. Stop trying to frame us for it! If you know what’s good for you, drop the lawsuit right now!” Seven or eight men in black shoved their way inside. They thrashed the funeral home in a frenzy and tipped the urn over, spilling its contents all over the table. “No! Stop it, all of you!” I rushed forward frantically to stop them, only to be kicked away. Subconsciously, I looked toward Clara. She stood there and said, her tone calm and collected, “There are too many of them. We can’t take them head-on. Besides, as an attorney, getting into a physical fight is breaking the law. Just wait a little longer. The police will be here soon.” Her rationality shattered every hope I had left. The Clara Jennings who had sworn to Dad that she would always stand by me was gone. Dad rushed over to try to put the urn upright, but someone shoved him to the floor. “Dad!” I threw myself over him to protect his body but was struck in the back of my head by a heavy club, and stars began to dance before my eyes. Ringing filled my ears, and the background music and the sounds of smashing blurred together. In a daze, I saw Clara pick up a wooden stick and instinctively take a step toward me. Yet, the next second, a shattered porcelain shard grazed Ethan’s face, leaving a bloody scratch. “Gasp!” Distressed, she immediately examined Ethan’s cut, then turned around and kicked the attacker to the ground. My chest felt tight, and I collapsed with a bitter smile. It was never about some code of ethics; I simply wasn’t worthy of her saving me. Whenever it was a choice between Ethan and me, she had never chosen me. The police arrived at the scene quickly, and the gang fled in panic. I secretly wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes and forced myself to support Dad up. Clara and Ethan, meanwhile, were already gone. I retrieved my phone—the screen was shattered—and found a text message from Clara. [Ethan’s injured, so I’m taking him to the hospital. Call me if you need anything.] I thought of the tiny scratch on Ethan’s face and then raised my hand to touch my own head, only to find my palm covered in blood. My heart felt hollow, and even my body felt numb. It was only when the nurse pressed a cotton swab down to disinfect my wound that I felt a sharp sting of pain. After getting the wound treated, I returned home to an empty house. Her message was still stuck on the one where she took Ethan to the hospital. Without turning on the lights, I sat on a chair in the dark, staring at the computer screen, which displayed our pre-wedding photo. There was only one photo, and it was just a candid shot taken by the photographer. It happened because, while I was changing outfits back then, she claimed Ethan didn’t understand a specific statute for a case and that she had to help him. And so, our pre-wedding photoshoot turned into a solo portrait session for me. With a bitter laugh, I took down all the photos and threw them into the bin. Chapter 2 By the time the sun came up, Clara finally returned home and found me sitting alone in the living room. “Did you not sleep, or–” “About the funeral, do you have nothing to say to me?” I asked in a cold voice. Clara frowned. “Are you talking about me wanting to leave early? Or are you blaming me for not protecting you?” So she had understood everything all along. She knew what she should have done, but she simply chose to side with Ethan. Fueled by anger, I let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even remember that I’m your fiancé? Do you even realize that your fiancé’s mother—your future mother-in-law—was laid to rest yesterday?” “I know, but–” “Not only did you leave me standing there alone, but when people started trashing the funeral home and split my head open, what were you doing?” She walked over, sat down beside me, and hesitantly tried to wrap her arms around me. However, I turned away to avoid her touch. Her hands froze mid-air, and her brow furrowed. “I apologize. Tomorrow I’ll visit your mom at the columbarium with some flowers.” Here it was, another attempt to make it up to me, except I didn’t care for it, nor did I want to give her another chance. Once Mom’s case was over, we would go our separate ways. Choking back my emotions, I fought to keep my voice steady. “No need. When can you give me your legal opinion on Mom’s fatal hit-and-run case?” She was scrolling through her phone and couldn’t be bothered to look up as she replied, “I can’t take it. The amount in dispute is too small.” “So you’re refusing to take it?” “I’m not refusing it. It’s a matter of priority.” What priority? My eyes drifted to the case files sitting on her table—the defense materials for Ethan’s younger brother, who was accused of school bullying. “Are the amounts involved in school bullying cases higher?” Silence filled the room for a few seconds before Clara cleared her throat, her eyes darting away. “Ethan’s been busy trying to make senior partner lately, so he doesn’t have time for this. That’s the only reason I’m helping him out.” I stared straight into her eyes, my voice hoarse. “Helping him out… You’re always helping him out! When he’s aiming for partner, you help him out. When he gets a tiny scratch on his face, you help him out. And now, for the lawsuit over Mom’s tragic death, you’re still prioritizing helping him out? “What does us being engaged even mean to you? What happened to the promise you made to my parents, that you’d take care of me and support me?” In a daze, my mind flashed back to the day she held my hand against her chest and made a solemn vow to my parents. The memory, like a fine web, wove itself around my chest so tightly that no air could get through. “Clara.” I sat still and called her name with absolute seriousness. “Let’s break–” Clara’s phone suddenly rang, cutting me off. She quickly let go of me and glanced at the caller ID. It was a call from Ethan. “Alright, no problem. You can head out now. I’ll be right there.” To avoid workplace gossip, we had kept our romantic relationship hidden. Clara never even rode in the same car with me to the law firm, yet she drove Ethan back and forth every single day, rain or shine. After hanging up, Clara grabbed her coat and headed out the door. “What were you about to say just now? Never mind, let’s talk about it later.” I watched her leave in a hurry while I sat frozen for a long time. Suddenly, all my strength drained away. Shortly after, my phone vibrated. It was a call from a junior associate at the firm, Mark Bensen. “Peter, regarding your mother’s case, Ms. Jennings has told me to assist you with it.” “Thank you,” I murmured, then hung up. By the time I took the bus and arrived at the firm, the breakroom was lively. Seeing me walk in, a senior colleague, Ben Garcia, asked with concern, “Peter, why do you look so pale? Is your blood sugar low?” I forced a weak smile and said nothing. Between Mom’s funeral and getting zero sleep last night, I was utterly exhausted. Ben handed me some candy before turning back to gossip with the other colleagues. “You know, we have Ethan to thank for all these snacks in the breakroom.” “Yeah, ever since Ethan passed out from low blood sugar that one time, Ms. Jennings had someone stock up on all these snacks the very same day.” “Plus, I see Ms. Jennings coming in with Ethan every morning. Do you think they’re a couple?” I didn’t say a word and just popped the candy into my mouth. Clara had selected all the snacks, drinks, and tea in the breakroom to Ethan’s taste, just to make sure he never went hungry. Yet, back when I had passed out at the firm from low blood sugar myself, all she gave me was a look of contempt. “If you can’t even handle the operations workload, you might as well quit early, stay home, and live off me. Knowing how busy I am, you’re just adding to my trouble.” From that moment on, I was too afraid to show any sign of discomfort in front of her. Right now, even the candy in my mouth tasted bitter. Just then, my phone vibrated with a message from Dad. [Peter, your mother’s case goes to trial this afternoon. If Clara is busy… let’s not bother her.] Hit with a pang of sadness, I reassured Dad. “Her assistant will be helping us out.” That afternoon, I stood outside the courtroom door. The opposing defense counsel had already arrived. Dad was sitting in the front row of the gallery. Seeing me walk in alone, he panicked slightly. “Where is the lawyer Clara sent?” I comforted him, “Stuck in traffic. He’ll be here soon.” However, Mark didn’t show up, and neither did Clara. As the start of the trial drew nearer and nearer, my hands were soaked in sweat. I dialed the number ninety-nine times, but nobody answered. Suddenly, my phone vibrated twice. I quickly opened it, only to find an apology text from Mark. “I’m so sorry. The bullying case involving Mr. Dunn’s brother requires a statement from the party involved, and Ms. Jennings told me to make a quick trip for it. I won’t be able to make it to today’s hearing.” A chill ran down my spine, and my heart sank. Chapter 3 Dad sensed that something was off with me and asked what was wrong. I forced down the panic and bitterness in my chest. “I’m fine, Dad.” In the courtroom, opposing counsel presented their arguments, smoothly citing statutes and legal precedents. When it was our turn, I had to step up alone. This was my first time in court, and my legal knowledge had been rusting away for years. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling with nerves. The opposing counsel watched me as if I were a joke. During the recess, Clara’s phone finally went through. The background noise was loud, filled with the clinking of glasses and party chatter. “Peter? It’s pretty noisy on my end. Hold on a second.” I shook with anger. “Clara Jennings! The hearing is over. Where is Mark? And where are you?” “Ethan was promoted to senior partner today and insisted on dragging me out to celebrate. I couldn’t get away. What about Mark–” She paused, seemingly remembering something. Trying to cover her tracks, she added, “It’s fine. I’ll file the appeal for you, and I’ll handle it personally when the time comes.” Ethan’s laugh came through the receiver. “Clara, come over here! The food’s getting cold!” I hung up, my hand dropping limply to my side. As expected, we lost the initial trial. When the judge delivered the verdict, Dad couldn’t hold it together any longer. He collapsed against my shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably. Back at the firm, I took my resignation letter and headed straight for HR. Felix O’Neil took it, looking confused. “Peter, you do great work here. Why the sudden decision to leave?” I looked at him and said calmly, “Just like the attorneys here, I graduated with a law degree.” It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the legal provisions and cases that Clara and Ethan were discussing. They just never gave me the chance to join the conversation. When I first joined the firm, I was a paralegal. Yet, before I even got the chance to litigate in court, Clara became a partner. She transferred me to the operations department under the guise of avoiding conflicts of interest, keeping my work light so I could take care of the family. “Alright, my authorization is enough to process your exit,” Felix advised. “But you should think it over. Don’t act on impulse.” “I’m not acting on impulse.” I pushed the resignation letter further across his desk. “Thank you, Felix.” Stepping out of the HR office, I ran right into Clara. “Peter, your mother’s case was an oversight on my part. I’ll handle the appeal personally. It’s about to pour outside. Why don’t you ride with me?” Perhaps out of guilt, Clara offered to drive me home for the first time. In the car, she rambled on about her strategy for the appeal, looking as though she had genuinely prepared. Then, her phone rang, and Ethan’s name flashed on the dashboard display. “Right now? The client provided new details? Alright, I’ll–” Clara glanced at me, seemingly gauging my reaction. With my heart numb, I spoke up. “Go on. I’ll make my own way back.” She let out a long sigh of relief, visibly relieved by how understanding I was being. She quickly replied to Ethan, “Okay, I’m coming to your office right now. Don’t worry.” She pulled over right at the curb. I looked at the torrential rain outside and stepped out of the car without hesitation. After getting home, I saw Ethan had updated his Instagram with two photos. One was of a fine dining spread, and the other was a side profile of Clara sitting across from him. The caption read, “Working late with my ride-or-die partner, rain or shine.” Someone commented below. [I ship it! Looks like overtime, but feels like a date.] Clara had liked the comment. I dried my wet hair, my clothes sticking uncomfortably to my skin. I casually tapped the like button, too. Having no time left to waste on her, I pulled up Mom’s case file. This time, I was going to rely on myself. At the appeal, Clara showed up right on time as promised. However, she sat on the defense counsel’s side, and it took me aback. Ethan stood up, a hint of smugness in his voice. “I am defense counsel, Ethan Dunn, and sitting with me is my co-counsel, Clara Jennings. The defense is ready, Your Honor.” Ethan’s opening statement crushed Dad’s and my hopeful hearts. Setting aside my fury, I tried my best to steady my voice as I presented the facts of that day. “Three hundred yards before the incident site, the vehicle was traveling at a speed noticeably above the posted limit, which is sufficient to infer negligence or intentional intent on the driver’s part.” Dressed in her tailored designer suit, Clara remained composed. “The surveillance footage from adjacent businesses in this case merely shows the vehicle in motion and fails to quantify the exact degree of speeding.” She always knew how to pinpoint the weakest link in her opponent’s argument precisely. The judge nodded, and silence fell over the courtroom. Even the witness we had agreed to call beforehand changed their statement on the spot. As the trial drew to a close, Clara exchanged a glance with Ethan. Ethan stood up, pointing at the enlarged surveillance footage on the screen. “We request that the plaintiff pay the defendant compensation for emotional distress in the amount of ten thousand dollars.” Chapter 4 I stared in disbelief at Clara and Ethan sitting across from us. Mom had been deliberately run over and killed, yet Dad and I were the ones having to compensate the driver for emotional distress. When the hearing ended, Clara walked over to me. “I didn’t expect Ethan to take this case… It’s his very first case after becoming partner. He’s your friend, too. Can’t you be a little more understanding?” Numb, I pushed her away and walked straight out. Outside, a drizzle had begun to fall. Raindrops landed on my face, mixing with my tears as they slid down my cheeks. Three hours before my train was scheduled to leave, I rushed to the law firm to pack up my things. Upon opening a package on my desk, I froze. It was a revocation notice from the State Bar Association. “Upon investigation, Mr. Peter Hall is suspected of leaking confidential documents in violation of regulations, severely breaching professional ethics. His law license is hereby permanently revoked, and he is banned from practicing law for life.” During the recent leak scandal that had created a massive uproar at the firm, Clara had been the person responsible for reporting the final liable attorney to the Bar Association. Clutching the notice, I burst into Clara’s office. She and Ethan were sitting together in front of her computer, sharing a laugh, when I slammed the notice onto her desk. “Clara, the leaked files were with Ethan the whole time! When did I ever leak the firm’s confidential documents?” I thought she would at least offer an apology or an explanation, but instead, she shot back with a ridiculous question. “Ethan is a partner. How could I have his license revoked? Besides, as part of the operations department, you don’t need a law license. How does this even affect you?” “What good is your license anyway? Have you ever argued in court? Do you know how to present evidence? If a real case were handed to you, could you handle it?” Clara patted my shoulder and looked at me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. “Stop making a scene. The license you earned served a purpose by taking the fall for Ethan this time. You could say it was put to good use.” I stood frozen in place, trembling uncontrollably with rage. She wasn’t entirely wrong, though. From the day she shoved me into operations, I had made zero progress, drifting further and further away from my dream of becoming a practicing attorney. I let out a soft laugh as a lump formed in my throat and my eyes watered. “So you used the license I spent three years studying for and my entire future just to cover up the mess Ethan made?” Clara paused, seemingly taken aback that I would get so angry. “Alright, calm down. Once your mom’s case is wrapped up, I’ll have Ethan guide you through writing basic legal documents to pass the time.” Ethan, who was flipping through files nearby, looked up and chimed in, “Peter, I’ll show you the ropes. Drafting documents is really simple.” I couldn’t hold back any longer, so I slapped her across the face. For three seconds, the office fell dead silent. Clara clutched her cheek, staring at me in complete disbelief. “You hit me?” Trembling with rage, I glared at her through my red eyes. “Clara, you’re heartless!” I turned on my heel and slammed the door shut with Clara’s furious shout echoing behind me. “Peter Hall, you’re fired!” Outside, I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the exit, wiping away a tear as the corners of my mouth curled into a smirk. Getting fired meant nothing to me. I looked down at the thick stack of case materials and evidence in my hands. Clara Jennings, the next time we meet, we’ll be opponents in court.