Outside the courtroom, out of my sight, Chef passed Painter’s fiance in the hallway. Ricky’s overly zealous preening squawk echoes down the hall, “Good morning! It’s a good day for the truth to come out, don’t you think?”
Frankly, I’m not afraid of the truth. Truth from Painter would be a welcome change of pace. I know who I am. I know what I did.
Of course, Ricky will never know the truth, who I am, or what I did because just as he was never in our relationship, bed, motorhome, art shows, bank accounts or ten thousand other moments he wasn’t in the courtroom.
Like so many of Painter’s enablers, he is just a parrot.
At least I was Croix’s Raven and Partner.
The truth is I had one set of secrets and lies in my relationship with Painter. It was a meaningful lie and secret, full of fucketty and shitheadery, but it was the only one.
Any other story is a lie, and Painter knows it…