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I narrow my eyes. “Have you ever been mentally and physically abused, Mrs. Thompson? Have you?”
“This isn’t about—” But this time I interrupther.
“Did you watch as your mother was beaten for years by your father? Did you listen to her pleas for help before he killed her, all the while not realizing those would be the very last words you’d ever hear her say? Have you livedevery dayin fear of what your boyfriend would do to you next? Have you ever wondered whether today would be the day he kills you? Have you prayed for his strikes or his punches not to hurt as badly as they did yesterday?”
I catch a brief tightening of her jaw. “And then when you finally think he’s killed you, you find out you’re alive, only to come face to face with him again because the justice system failed to keep you safe. Because people likeyoufailed to keep me safe! The only person who’s ever tried to protect me is Damian, and now you’re punishing him for that. You didn’t have to do this to us. Youchoseto. I hope you sleep well at night, but I can’t imagine how.” I push the chair away and walk out the door.
* * *
DAMIAN
Hearing those words pour out of her destroyed me a little bit at a time. I wanted to break free from these damn handcuffs so I could hold her close and tell her that we’ll be okay. This is good news. A year in prison is nothing compared to what I was previously facing. A year gives us a future, a life we can carve out for ourselves. This is just a small bump in the road and if it’s the worst thing we go through, then I’ll happily accept. Knowing Ash is dead and no longer a threat to her, fills me with an overwhelming sense of relief. I can do a year knowing she’s finally safe.
I lift up my gaze to Mrs. Thompson, who’s scanning her files. I don’t know if Lilah’s statement made a difference, but it doesn’t matter. I’m damn proud of her regardless. She never got to tell her story in court, he took that from her too. I hope this somehow made up for it.
“Well, your girlfriend certainly had a lot to say,” she says, finally looking up. I bite my tongue instead of letting her know exactly what I think of her. It’s best for everyone I keep my mouth shut.
“My client is rightfully upset, considering she’s been victimized from all avenues,” her attorney says, arching a brow.
“I’m not heartless. That’s why I didn’t charge her. But there was wrongdoing involved and it’s my job to see that through. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think we’re done here.” She rises to her feet, taking her briefcase with her, and exits.
The court officer returns to take me back to hell. As I walk out, disappointment drowns me at not seeing Lilah out here. Fuck, I hope she’s okay. While I’m being dragged away, I turn around and call to Lilah’s attorney. “Tell her I love her and that it’ll be okay. This isn’t the end of our story.”
She nods as I turn back around, a step closer to the shithole they call a cell, but every moment is a step closer to her.
Chapter 32
Lilah
When returning home from court two days ago, I felt nothing but resentment. The high that was coursing through me after telling that woman off had melted away, leaving me hopeless and broken. Lexi had heard about what happened from the guys, who I guess heard it from Damian’s attorney. She called and left messages asking if I’m okay, threatening to come over if I didn’t reply, so I did. I told her I needed to be alone. I still do, content with my own solitude and misery.
I meant every word I said to that woman. No regrets. Instead of showing compassion, she threw another wrench in our life. My only regret was that I left Damian without a goodbye. I didn’t even look at him as I walked out. But I needed to leave. I was close to breaking apart and there’s no way I’d ever cry in front of her.
I roll onto my stomach and hug the pillow, inhaling the whiff of his woodsy cologne, the one I sprayed last night. The scent of it that was once all over his clothes is nothing but a whisper now. I find myself spraying it on the pillowcase whenever it disappears. It’s the only part of him I have left.
I hope he isn’t angry with me for using his childhood in my tirade, but everything just came pouring out of me and I couldn’t close the dam. I needed that woman to know how much we’ve both been through.
My attorney called this morning, telling me what Damian said to her before they took him away. I rushed off the phone before the tears began. He’s right. This isn’t the end of our story. I guess knowing Damian only faces one year in prison should make me grateful somehow, but I feel nothing but anger.
This isn’t how our life was supposed to go. I was supposed to break up with Ash, giving Damian and I a real chance at a future. But now, he’s going away for something he didn’t do. How the hell am I supposed to feel grateful for that?
A light knock on Damian’s door cuts off my train of thought. Who could that be? I know it’s not Lexi because she’s at work. I’m kind of jealous she’s there while I’m stuck here. At least at my job I could hide behind my cases instead of focusing on how awful my life is. But my boss had insisted I take another week, encouraging me to fully heal before jumping back into a busy schedule. Maybe I should’ve insisted.
Whoever it is knocks again. I was kind of hoping they left after I failed to let them in. I grunt, slipping out of bed, and head for the door. “Honey, it’s Mom. Open up.”Ugh, damn it, Lexi!Under normal circumstances, I’d want my mom, but not today. Today, I don’t want anyone’s pity or their kind words telling me that everything will be okay. I’m so sick of hearing that.
I pause in front of the door, looking up at the ceiling. “I know you’re in there, Lilah.” I roll my eyes and flip the lock open and turn the knob.
“Finally! You had me worried, honey.” She pushes past me and walks inside, looking way more put together than I do in her jeans and floral blue top. I’m going for tragic, hobo chic in my loose pajama pants and messy high bun.
“Hey Mom, what are you doing here?”
“Well I called you a few times yesterday, but you never called back, so I called Lexi and she told me what happened.” I hadn’t even seen her missed calls.
I shake my head. “Are you sure she’s not your daughter instead?”
“Well maybe you should return my calls, young lady, so I wouldn’t have to call her.” She walks over to the couch and drops her black handbag on the floor.
“Come on, go get dressed. I’m taking you out to lunch. I’m not going home until tonight. So we’ll have a girls’ day.”
