Turning my head back, looking to the judge, I nod yes. “I’m sorry,” I croak, my throat tight with emotion. “But not for killing him,” I admit. Then I turn to the courtroom and look directly at McKenzie. Her blonde hair is braided down the side hanging over her shoulder. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. Our gazes lock and a tear streams down my face as I address her. “I’m sorry that I let that monster hurt someone I love. Someone so innocent that relied on me and trusted me to protect them. I’m sorry I missed all the signs that said something was wrong. And I know sorry will never change what happened, but I hope someday you can forgive me.”
“You’re apologizing to her?” Mrs. Jenson shouts as she stands. She’s always been skinny, but now she appears deathly thin. Her short hair is wild and unruly, and her eyes seem hollow from lack of sleep. “You killed my husband!” Someone sitting beside her grabs her arm and tries to get her to sit down, but Mrs. Jenson rips her arm away. Jerking up her purse she digs a frantic hand inside of it and yanks out a handful of individually wrapped candies.
“Bailiff, remove her from this courtroom!” The judge yells as he hammers his gavel.
“All he did was give those girls candy,” Mrs. Jenson moans through her sobs before she hums the handful of candy at me. The candy falls short, but the bailiff is quick to grab her before she manages to scoop another handful from her purse. As they drag her away, she continues to scream at me until they’ve dragged her through the doors and out of sight.
The room is loud with whispers and gasps until the judge declares he’ll clear the courtroom if there’s not order. McKenzie is sobbing, and Jeff stands wanting to take her out to the hall, but she shakes her head no, adamantly. “I’m staying.” Then looking at me, her face pained, mouths, “It wasn’t your fault. I love you.”
I nod once and look at Connor. His expression is hard and riddled with fear. He’s scared for me.
“Mrs. Stevens,” the judge calls. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
Turning back to face him, I take a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I say, “I’m ready for my sentencing.”
“God, you guys are so disgustingly cute,” Wendy quips as she enters the kitchen and tosses some mussed up saran wrap in the trash. “Connor just told me to tell you how beautiful you look today.”
I can’t help smiling.
We are pretty disgusting.
And incredibly happy.
I peek out the kitchen window and see Connor, Jeff, and Dusty all standing in a little circle with beers in their hands. Connor has the biggest smile on his face as he talks, throwing his head back occasionally, and laughing.
He’s happy.
I’m happy.
That’s all that matters.
I try not to think about what might have been, about going to prison, because it’s behind me now. Turns out, Leslie’s testimony was what saved me from prison. The judge had mercy on me.
I was convicted of Voluntary Manslaughter and given ten years of probation and required to perform five hundred hours of community service. My case received news coverage across the country, and many have questioned the judge’s ethics—Jim says he’s going to retire soon anyway. The judge couldn’t care less what people think of his ethics.
My conviction was ten months ago.
I took it and my sentencing gratefully, even though it meant losing my job as a teacher. Being unemployed is scary, but jail is scarier. I know everything will be okay, though, one way or another. I thought about selling the house, not wanting to live across the street from Mrs. Jenson, but she sold her home, extremely cheap as most people don’t want to buy a home where a murder has taken place. So Connor and I decided to stay for now. With me out of work and him growing his business, it just isn’t the right time.
Wendy and I finish up in the kitchen and carry out the last two dishes. It’s just a small barbecue with the people we love most. As I place the bowl of potato salad on the table, Connor comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist pressing his mouth to my neck and whispering, “I want you.”
Turning my head, I kiss him and whisper back, “Meet me in the house five minutes after we eat.”