**An Uncommon Case**
«Your Honour, I withdraw my financial claim against the defendant,» said Thomas quietly. A murmur of confusion rippled through the courtroom.
The judge, no stranger to surprises, raised an eyebrow.
«Mr. Collins, you understand this decision wont affect the verdict but will forfeit your right to compensation?»
«I do.»
Emily Hartfordthough young, her colleagues addressed her formallycontinued typing without emotion. Five years in this job had numbed her to human pettiness and folly. To her, it was like steering a train loaded with other peoples tragedies.
The case against Amanda W. was the kind the press adored. A serial fraudster, she had conned four men through dating sites, extracting large sums without ever meeting them. One she told her family was in a car crash; another that her ex-husband was taking everything; a third, a sick child.
«Nothing new here,» thought Emily as she prepared the files. Four grown men, seemingly successful, had played the knight in shining armour, believing money could buy them love. In reality, theyd been messaging a married mother of three.
Now, they sat in courtthe defendant and her victims. Three were seething, demanding repayment, their speeches laced with venom. They werent wrong. The law was on their side. Emily mechanically noted phrases like «emotional distress,» «deception,» and «fraudulent intent.»
Thomas Collins sat apart, his posture devoid of anger or pity. When he waived his claim, the room fell silent. One victim spun around, incredulous.
«Are you mad? She played you like the rest of us! She probably bought her husband a phone with your money!»
Thomas met his gaze with quiet sadness.
«I know. But she has three children. Let the money stay with them. I dont need it back.»
Emily looked up, startled. Generosity was rare in these walls. She studied his handsa welders hands, resting calmly on his kneesand his eyes, weary but unbitter. In a world where everyone fought for themselves, he had simply let go.
After the hearing, a defence lawyer shook his head.
«That fourth ones a proper romantic. Naive as a child.»
Usually silent, Emily countered,
«Thats not naivety. Its strength. The kind money cant buy.»
The room stilled. Even she was surprised by her own words.
In the following days, Emily caught herself watching himhow he listened without interrupting, how his gaze lingered on the window as if searching the grey sky for answers only he cared to ask.
On the verdicts final day, he lingered in the corridor, disoriented. Emily stepped out.
«Which way are you headed?» she asked, her tone clipped.
«Just a bit lost in your maze.»
«Exits that way.» She nodded.
«Thanks.»
He walked off, but she called after him.
«Thomas?»
He turned, puzzled.
«You were right,» she said, her voice softening. «About the children. That was decent of you.»
He studied her.
«You know, Emily» He hesitated, unsure how to address her.
«Em,» she offered.
«Em. Kindness is rare anywhere, not just here. Thank you for noticing.»
He left. She watched him go, feeling her long-dormant heart stir.
Then came the rain. A downpour erupted just as Thomas stepped outside. He paused under the awning, debating whether to dash for the bus stop.
A voice spoke behind him.
«Weve got an official umbrella. Meant for documents, but I suppose it could rescue a decent man.»
It was Em, holding a large black umbrella. Her eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, as if she couldnt believe her own boldness.
«I dont want to keep you,» said Thomas.
«My shifts over. Im walking to the park. If youre heading that way»
They walked side by side beneath the umbrella, careful not to touch. The silence between them was oddly comfortable.
«Do you always defend victims like that?» he asked finally.
«No. Never,» she admitted. «Youre the first who acted illogically. It struck me.»
«Maybe thats foolish.»
«Its rare. And rarity has value.»
At the park, the rain eased to a drizzle.
«Fancy a stroll?» Thomas asked. «Unless youre in a hurry.»
Em hesitated only a second. «Breach of protocol, Emily Hartford,» she chided herselfbut nodded. Thomas gazed at the clearing sky. She gave him space.
«This is new for me,» he said abruptly. Clearly, he wasnt talking about the scam. «Most people think Im odd.»
«Because you didnt turn bitter,» she murmured. «These days, thats practically eccentric.»
He eyed her.
«And you? Do you think Im eccentric?»
«I think youre real. Thats priceless. In my line of work, real is in short supply.»
After a pause, he asked,
«Want to know why Im so real? Why I fell for her lies?»
She nodded.
Thomas sighed, his expression turning distant. Then he spoke calmly, as if recounting someone elses life:
«It started and ended at school. Her name was Lily. What I felt for her wasnt just loveshe was everything. Light, beauty, the unattainable. We were *that* couple. Carried her books, danced at prom I was sure it was forever. So sure, I convinced everyone else too. We were the golden pair.»
«Then she left. Went to a top uni, married a classmate. Sent me a postcard. Can you believe it? No letter, no call. Just a London skyline and three words: Sorry. Its better.»
«Everything shattered. I didnt drink or rage. Just shut down. Became a weldergood job for hiding behind a mask and noise. Built a fortress around my heart, but inside, that naive boy still believed in one love for life.»
«Then I saw *her* photo onlinethe scammer. She looked like Lily. And the caption: Still believe in love. Pathetic, right? But I messaged her. And she replied with words Id waited years to hearabout forever, loyalty, something real. It was the key to my locked-up heart. I wanted the fairy tale so badly, I ignored the red flags. I didnt fall for *her* lies. I fell for the echo of my own dream. I needed proof that love like Id believed in wasnt a joke.»
«Funny thing? This trial freed me. At first, I was humiliated. Then, seeing herjust a scared, pitiful womanthe illusion vanished. Lilys ghost finally left me. That money? Payment for an exorcism. Pricey, but effective.»
He fell silent, awaiting her verdicta conviction for naivety. Instead, Em placed her hand over his. Hers was warm and steady.
«Thank you for telling me,» she said softly. «Now I understand. Youre not odd. Youre just true to yourself.»
***
At work, Emily was known for her formalityreserved, stern, ruthlessly efficient. No personal life. When colleagues spotted her with Thomaswaiting for her after hoursthey were stunned.
Judge Margaret Hayes, whose glare could halt a criminal mid-step, broke the silence first:
«Well, Emily Hartford surprises us. I thought she had a filing cabinet for a heart. Now shes courting a victima romantic, no less.»
Her younger colleague, Judge Ian Moore, smirked.
«With his naivety, hes more like a defendant for chronic gullibility. Emilys rehabilitating him, then?»
«Ian, enough cynicism,» Margaret chided, though her lips twitched. «The mans a hard worker. And what he did took principle over money. Rare in our line.»
In the break room, solicitor Andrew shook his head.
«Didnt expect romance in a courthouse. Feels like a telly drama.»
Everyone noticed the change in Emily. Still professional, but softer. Sometimes she smiled at her phone. She wore a delicate silver chain nownew.
Behind her back, the office split: cynics muttered about «saving foolish knights,» while younger women swooned. «Its like a novel! Emily, so stern, and himtragic but kind. And handsome!»
Accounts manager Valerie huffed.
«Oh, hush. Whens the last time any of you saw real feeling? A good-hearted mans rarer than hens teeth. Good for her.»
One morning, Ian couldnt resist. Over coffee, he feigned innocence:
«Emily, hows your noble rescuer? Filed any more claims out of the goodness of his heart?»
The room held its breath.
Emily sipped her coffee, set it down, and met his gaze.
«Ian, if youre so interested in closed cases, I can grant you full archive access. Would you like case 3-452/18? Or 2-187/19? Plenty of colourful characters there.»
Dead silence. Ian choked. He knewEmily had processed his files too.
«N-no, Emily! Just friendly concern.»
«How kind,» she said sweetly. «But my private life isnt under judicial review. Yet.»
The snide remarks stopped. Curiosity remained, tinged with respect. The climax came when Thomas dropped her off one morningopening her car door, adjusting her coat collar. A small gesture, but so tender that any lingering doubts vanished.
That day, Margaret pulled her aside.
«Emily hes good. I can tell. Hold onto him.»
The only «ruling» Emily accepted without protest. She simply nodded.
«Thank you, Margaret. I know.»
The gossip faded. Colleagues understood: their unflappable secretary, keeper of order and files, had passed her own sentence»Pardoned. To love. To be happy.»
And it was final.
