Stephen’s lawyer nods. My cold gaze flickers to Nor’s dad, taking in that bitter look on his face. It hits me that he probably wanted a longer, harsher sentence.
I plant my fists on the polished table and lean forward. “You’ve taken me from her, but it’s only for a while. You won’t be able to stop us when this is over.” I straighten and follow my lawyer out of the conference room, my interpreter in tow.
“Two years and five thousand dollars in fines,” he says.
I don’t bother to look at the interpreter for translation.
“Do I have a choice?” I ask him. I lift my hand and jab a finger toward the conference room. “That motherfucker should be the one going to jail for everything he has put his family through. Jesus, where is the justice? I wasn’t the one who started the fight.”
“I know,” he says. “The evidence against you is indisputable. You barged into the privacy of his home and also caused physical injury. If there is anything untoward going on in that house, his daughter should press charges.” He rubs his forehead in frustration. “Shit. I hate cops. Look, this is the best offer we have on the table right now.”
I tug my hair back, pain smarting in my temples and a headache looking at the back of my head.
Fuck. More expenses.
I’ll ask my parents to remove the five thousand from my college fund. I’ll figure out how to compensate the loss later. I clench my fists tight, letting the pain wash through me. I’m exhausted. I don’t have any more energy to keep on fighting. “All right. Let’s take it.”
We return to the room and Mr. Barnett announces our decision. Nor’s dad scowls up at both lawyers and then at me. He stands up and storms out of the room. Two officers enter the room to escort me out of the room and out of the building. I lift my face toward the midday sunlight and cool breeze, soaking it in, because I have no idea when I will enjoy this again. In just a couple of weeks, I’ll be turning nineteen in prison. This wasn’t in my ten-year-plan and it fucking makes me sick.
Lowering my head, I feel the hate and anger for Stephen burn through my veins. Not only has he succeeded in thwarting my relationship with his daughter, he managed to destroy my life in the process.
I settle inside the police car and drop my gaze to my lap, blinking hard to force the tears back.
I swear he will pay for this, one way or another, but he will never break us.
I believe in us. I just hope that Nor does too. It’s the only thing that will make it bearable.
TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE Cole was led out of my house in handcuffs. Two months of me drowning in guilt. He couldn’t hold up to my father. He had enough ammunition to put Cole behind bars.
Why didn’t I listen to Maggie? Maybe if I’d broken up with him like she’d asked me to, he wouldn’t have ended up in this predicament. The thought of my life without Cole is like a slash through my heart. There is no way I could have done it. Cole is the other part of me. The part that breathes air into me, the part that calms the demons that roam my mind.
Things are much clearer now. Even though the stars aren’t aligned for us yet and fate seems to be working against us, I’m not going to give up. The tide will change soon. Cole and I will be together and nothing will ever stand in our way again.
Today is the day I get to see him after sixty days of missing him. His mother promised to take me with her. Things have been tense between us so she was hesitant when I first asked her if she could take me with her to visit Cole. Eventually Cole wrote me a letter and told me that he had put my name on the visitors list.
Taking a deep breath, I open the little kit on my lap and pull out the antiseptic cream. I apply it on the deep scratches on my thighs. Today has been particularly bad and I couldn’t stop scratching my skin. I’m nervous and excited to see Cole in equal measures. Does he blame me for what happened?
I’ve been trying so hard not to cut again since the night Cole was arrested. I even spoke to my therapist a few times. It seemed to help but sometimes I’d feel so helpless. Sometimes I’m terrified of my own thoughts, the little voice that urges me to find relief in a razor. I threw away the last one five days ago, but I can’t seem to stop itching. Looking for relief. Every day is a battle and sometimes I feel like I’m losing it. Losing my grip on reality. I need to find my balance again. I should be stronger than this.
I close the kit and walk to the dresser, burying it where it has been living for the past two months—under the mound of socks, and then head to my vanity and finishing applying the lipstick. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, despising the eyes looking back at me. I hate how weak I’ve become. I keep promising myself that I’ll get rid of the kit tomorrow. But the tomorrows come and go. I close my eyes and pray under my breath, because that is all I’m left with right now. I need strength.
“Cole’s mom is waiting for you outside,” Elon says quietly. I didn’t even hear her walk into my room.