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It was a tempting offer, and my brother was ready to take it, but my father refused. He wouldn’t allow my brother to spend the rest of his life with this conviction hanging over his head, preventing him from getting jobs, from voting. And my brother wouldn’t leave my father alone in prison. But most of all, they told me, they had total confidence and trust in me that I could get their convictions overturned. I’d never felt such a combination of pride and absolute dejection. I wanted them home.
With Leo by my side, though, everything seemed possible. And one night he had two of his students at our house, and then the next week it was five, until we had a whole group of people, working hours every week drafting motions and investigating, until one day, our appeal was approved, and we were granted a new trial on account that we had an expert who could completely destroy the lineup procedures used the night my brother and dad were arrested. Apparently, the officer overseeing the lineup that night had a personal relationship with the witness, a fact he had hidden from the court. At this point, the prosecutor had had enough. He and the police department wanted to avoid the embarrassment of the new trial, so they vacated the conviction and agreed to release my dad and brother immediately.
The day they walked out to my car from prison was the best day of my life. Watching my mother jump into my dad’s arms and hug him for as long as she damn well wanted, I had tears streaming down my face. My brother just looked up at the sky like he couldn’t believe any of it was real. I could hardly believe it either. If it weren’t for the pressure of Leo’s arm around my shoulder, I would have thought I was dreaming. In the next few weeks I was able to negotiate restitution for my family, financial compensation for their wrongful imprisonment, loss of wages, and emotional distress. It was enough money for my mom to pay off the house and bills, and plenty of money to sustain them while my dad and brother got back on their feet.
Oh, and a little something else. At my dad’s insistence, he paid for our honeymoon.
This bungalow on Maui is more breath-taking than the brochures led on. The tropical air blows through the windows, rustling the bed curtains. The air smells like ocean and hibiscus. In the mornings I sit outside on the patio and watch the whales off the coast shoot water from blowholes, and see the silhouettes of dolphin pods leaping into the air and diving back into the water against the sunrise. Everything is perfect.
While Leo showers after a day spent snorkeling, I change out of my bikini. My thoughts keep going back to our wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony on the beach. There was a slight breeze, just enough for my gauzy white dress to flutter ethereally. Lilies and rose petals scattered across the sand. Soft music played from a talented violinist. It was everything I could have ever dreamed of. And better yet, my whole family was able to be there. Having my brother and father attend was a dream come true, and I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without my perfect husband.
Husband. I get giggly just thinking of the word. It’s so exciting to think that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with the man I love. We are partners, lovers, and best friends.
I go over to my suitcase and unpack the negligée I bought specifically for this occasion. It’s red, his favorite color, and lacey. It leaves little to the imagination and I know it will drive him wild.
I add six inch heels and sprawl out on the bed when I hear the water turn off. He comes out a moment later with a towel wrapped around his waist, and stops short when he sees me on the bed.
“Well, hello Mrs. Whitford,” he says in a playful tone.
“Hello, Mr. Whitford.”
I pat the bed. He throws his towel in the corner of the room, exposing his massive erection. I giggle and start to take off my shoes.
“Leave those on,” he says as he crawls across the bed toward me.
“As you wish.”
He hovers over my body, holding me in the cage of his arms as he kisses me. I touch the sides of his face, his hair, his eyelids, nose. I touch every inch of his face, memorizing it and marveling and reveling in the fact that he’s all mine.
He kisses a trail down to my chin and then to my neck. I arch my neck to expose my throat for him.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I’m so proud to call you my wife,” he says, looking me in the eyes. The way he looks at me, so full of love and respect, makes my heart swell up with happiness. When he tells me I’m beautiful, I believe it. I feel it in every fiber of my being.
