Souvenir - Chapter 3.8
Her breath ghosted over my neck. I ran my fingers through her hair, feeling its softness.
She lifted her head slightly. The moonlight caught her profile—serene, distant.
For a while, we simply sat there. Then she smiled, resting against me once more.
A distant car horn broke the silence. I exhaled, leaning back.
Her warmth remained.
I drove her downtown.
“The street up ahead—that’s where I live. Looks like a slum, doesn’t it? At night, you’ll see women like me standing on the corners.”
As we passed, I saw several women approaching parked cars. Some streetlights flickered, while others had gone out completely. Trash littered the pavement. It was easy to tell this wasn’t a safe place.
“Are you sure I can drop you off here?”
“I’ll be fine. People here know me, but if you step out, they’ll strip you down without a second thought.”
“Is it safe to visit your place?”
“Probably not. But if you pick us up here, we can go somewhere else. I want to introduce you to my daughter. Call it a mother’s foolish pride.”
“…Alright.”
I unlocked the door.
“Oh, one more thing… can we meet again? Just the two of us?”
It was obvious she needed the money.
But more than that, I was starting to find her… intriguing.
I handed her my card, scribbling my private number on the back.
“If it’s about your husband, call the office. But if it’s personal… use this.”
“I won’t be a bother. I know the rules.”
Vera stepped out. I didn’t watch her leave.
As I turned the car around, I wondered—
Was I falling for her?
Yet the thought disgusted me.
I pressed the accelerator harder, leaving it all behind.
It was clear that Alex was asking whether I had found myself a lover.
Why was he always so persistent when it came to my relationships or lack thereof? Perhaps it was just a habit ingrained in him as a family law attorney. I understood family law well enough in theory, but I had no real interest in it—and that extended to my lack of enthusiasm toward romantic relationships as well.
In that sense, Alex and I were complete opposites.
“Not particularly,” I replied. “I suppose I’m just a hopeless workaholic.”
“That’s a serious condition!” he exclaimed. “That’s exactly why I keep inviting you out, yet you always refuse. You’re wasting your life away. Are you even enjoying yourself?”
“I enjoy myself in my own way. I’m just… not very good at it.”
“Speaking of women, about that woman you asked me to check on—I’m going to her apartment the day after tomorrow.”
“Have you officially made an agreement with her?”
“That’s the strange part. I only spoke to her a few times over the phone, and she says she can’t come here. But we need her to review and sign the documents before we can move forward. Since it was a direct request from you, I figured I’d go ahead and deliver the paperwork myself.”
“Did something happen to her?”
I wasn’t particularly attached to her, but when you cross paths with someone, there’s a certain obligation to remember them. It wasn’t concern, exactly, but it was something close.
“Wait a minute… Don’t tell me you actually care about this woman? Is that why you keep turning down a good time? Come on, she’s just a—”
“No,” I cut in swiftly, answering before he could finish his sentence. I didn’t want to hear those words from him.
Of course, I knew what she was. I didn’t need him to remind me.
“Then why are you bothering?” Alex asked, his tone sharp. “I’m prioritizing this because you asked, but you do realize that we, the so-called elite, don’t exactly have the time to play guardian angels to every stray cat we come across, right?”
“I know that. There’s no real reason for this. If you must call it something, just say I’ve caught a case of ‘the rich man’s whim’ in the middle of my ridiculously busy life.”
Alex burst into laughter, clapping me on the shoulder repeatedly. He took a deep breath as if about to say something else, but then shook his head and let it go.
“Well, if it’s just ‘the rich man’s whim,’ I suppose that makes sense. Even I get those moods sometimes. You’re a funny guy, Tommy—I like the way you think. So, do you want to come along?”
“Yeah. Since I was the one who asked, I should go.”
“Got it. I’ll coordinate with my secretary and let you know the details later. But first, lunch?”
“Alright.”
This whole thing—wanting to do something for her—it was a kind of gamble.
Sometimes, I had the urge to throw myself into things I knew could end in failure, just to see what would happen. Maybe it was a reaction to the rigid discipline of my work, where failure wasn’t an option. In my personal life, I could afford to take those risks, to let chance dictate the outcome.
Helping this woman legally wouldn’t bring me any tangible benefit.
But then again, I regularly donated to organizations that supported underprivileged children. I also volunteered at a pro bono legal clinic, taking on cases far beyond the state’s required hours.
So, really, this was no different. It was just another form of charity. Another indulgence of “the rich man’s whim.”