Fatal Flaw by William Lashner

seen her, hadn’t spokento her, since the separation, so when Leila called me an old friend I thought she was making a joke. But she surprised me by ushering me not into the formal parlor with its stiff French furnishings reserved for painfully polite conversation but through the open kitchen area into the spacious, vaulted informal room used by family and friends.
    So there we were, perched in the plush green furnishings, two iced teas on coasters atop the coffee table, chatting like, well, like old friends. I wanted to pat her on the knee and assure her that I was taking care of everything, that Guy would pay for all he had done, but it was better to maintain my secrets. When she looked at me, I supposed she saw the bastard lawyer defending her bastard husband. When I looked at her, I supposed I saw an ally.
    “I saw you on TV, Victor, giving your little speech as you left the courthouse.”
    “It’s part of the job.”
    “Well, it doesn’t look as if you hate it.”
    “No, can’t say I do.”
    “And they do seem to like putting you on.”
    “Such is the burden of startling good looks and a winning personality.”
    She laughed at that, a deep, good-natured laugh, and curled her legs beneath her on the couch. It reminded me of better times, when Leila and Guy were my mature married friends and I played the part of the unsettled single guy. Leila was a big-boned women with an inviting, if not beautiful, face. Friendly and warm with a lively sense of humor, she had made a nice contrast to the serious and humorless Guy.
    Slowly her laughter subsided and her face darkened. “How is he?” she asked.
    “Not so good.”
    “I didn’t think so. Guy sometimes pretended to be a hard guy, as if the tattoo prepared him for anything, but he is not the prison type.”
    “Who is, really? How are the children handling it?” They had two: Laura, a lovely, quiet girl, aged six, and Elliott, a terror who never outgrew his terrible twos, aged four. “Do they know?”
    “Not really. It’s not as if he had been much of a presence in their lives after he left anyway. I told them their daddy is in trouble but that it’s all a mistake and he’ll be with them soon.”
    “He wants to see them.”
    “I don’t think that’s best. After the trial, if he’s convicted, I expect we’ll have to work something out about visitation, but until then I don’t think it healthy for a six-and four-year-old to see their father in prison. I’ve talked it over with the pediatrician and she agrees.”
    “I’ll tell him. He’ll be disappointed, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”
    “He should write letters. They’d love to hear from him and Laura, at least, can write back. Is there anything else I can do? Anything? I’ll do what I can.”
    “That’s sort of why I came, but I’m a little surprised at the offer. I thought a part of you would be glad it turned out like it did.”
    “He’s still my husband, Victor, the father of my children. I don’t want him in jail.”
    “And Hailey?”
    She winced, as if she had just chewed a rotten morsel of beef. “I don’t wish anyone dead, but I won’t mourn Hailey Prouix. Somehow she turned Guy against himself, and that’s a crime. You know, Victor, I was suing her.”
    “Suing her?”
    “Alienation of affection I think is the legal term, but basically I was suing her for stealing my husband. There have been successful suits just like it all over the country. One woman I heard won a million dollars.”
    “Sounds like the lottery.”
    “I was suing that witch for every penny she had.”
    “What good would that have done, Leila?”
    “Other than the money?” She laughed again. “Oh, I suppose in some bitter way it would have cheered me. I wanted to take something from her that she cared about, just like she took Guy from me.”
    “He had something to do with it, too.”
    “He was bewitched.”
    “Leila.”
    “Well, it wasn’t love. What Guy and I had together was love, what he