First of all, and most importantly, I need you to know that I love you. I can’t even sleep without you beside me. I want you to come home. I miss you.
You must think I’m a complete asshole after hearing about Anya. But, please hear me out. It really isn’t what you think. Anya came to my apartment in the middle of the night, scared and bleeding from her face. She had been out on a date with a man, and he attacked her. As soon as she came to my place, I called the police and they came and took the report. I called Angelina over to stay with Anya in the guest bedroom and watch over her for the night. I slept in my own room, with the door locked. Anya was in no state to go anywhere, and I just gave her a safe place to crash for the evening. You can confirm all of this with Angelina if you wish. Believe me, I wasn’t happy about it either, but I agreed that Anya shouldn’t be alone. I was going to tell you about it the next day, but I was taken before I even got the chance. I’m so sorry for whatever you must be feeling towards me right now. I need you to know you are the only woman I want, and I would never hurt you in that way.
As for Alanna, she wants to explain herself to you as well. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know that she cares about you. She’s still in the hospital, and I have been to see her several times to make sure she’s doing okay. Nathan seems to be taking good care of her.
I don’t know what else to say right now. I feel so lost without you. Please, baby, come home with me. We’ll figure all of this out together.
I love you
Gabriel
Chapter Eight
Victoria
Gabriel. I hug the letter to my chest, suddenly missing him so much it hurts to breathe. The thought that our relationship hangs in the balance is too painful to bear. What’s going to happen to us if I can’t beat these charges?
I can’t think about any of it right now. Slipping back into numbness, I fold the letter up and stash it beneath my mattress. Out of sight… hopefully out of mind.
The next two weeks drift by agonizingly slow. It seems like all I can do is sleep. Officer Wright is the only person I allow on my approved visitors list, and he stops in frequently. The police department was kind enough to give him a place to crash while he’s here, but he says he’ll have to go back to Idaho soon.
The guards have tried to deliver several more letters from Gabriel, but I refused them. I can’t think about him right now. I need to tuck him and all of my feelings away until I know what’s going to happen. It isn’t easy, in fact, it’s been agonizing. I want nothing more than to take comfort in his loving words, but I know I can’t. It’s only going to make it that much more difficult if the charges are kept.
The detectives, as well as Gabriel’s attorney have stopped by several times to question me. The same questions, over and over, it seems like. I guess they’re testing me, but I never waver. I’m telling the truth, and that’s all I can do.
After the third week, Officer Wright is gone but continues to send me letters from Idaho. I’m grateful for his help. I’ve stopped sleeping as much and started reading books instead. I find comfort in them, one of the few things I still can. Right now I’m reading The Count of Monte Cristo. Somewhat fitting given my current circumstances. I want something lengthy to keep me occupied.
In some weird twist of fate, I’ve just read the part where the guards have heaved Dante into the sea when a shadow passes over my door. It’s one of the guards, looking a little too cheerful for my liking. He slides open the door, replacing the keys on his belt.
“C’mon.” He gestures me forward. “It’s time to go.”
My suspicion takes the form of snarkiness as I quirk my eyebrow at him in question. Time to go… where?
“What do you mean?”
“You are officially free to go,” he says, apparently unfazed by my bitter tone. “All charges dropped. Your boyfriend is waiting outside for you, and he’s brought you a fresh change of clothes to go home in.”
I can’t move. At first I think I might be delusional, imagining things. I set down my book and take a step like the floor is made of lava. Like someone’s about to jump out and tell me it’s all some big joke, and I’m the butt of it.