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“Is everything alright?”
I was used to being a little aggravated and saying yes, then moving on with the conversation. But this time, I couldn’t do that. This time, everything wasn’t alright.
“Doug is being released from jail,” I managed to say.
“What?” she asked, sounding shocked. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. My lawyer called. They said there’s overcrowding at the jail, and he earned time for good behavior.”
“He’s only been there for a few months,” she said.
“I know.”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m at Alex’s house. Mr. Proctor noticed something was wrong with me and called him. He came and picked me up,” I said.
“Send me the address. I’m on my way.”
Soon the house was full of people. Everybody was milling around the living room and kitchen, trying to figure the situation out and decide what we were going to do next.
The first thing Alex’s brother Cameron did when he got there was get on the phone with his lawyer. It was obvious from the conversation I’d had with him earlier that my lawyer didn’t think there was anything that could be done. To him, it was just a flaw in the judicial system, a feature of the law that was meant to prevent cruel and unusual punishment and ease the strain on resources by releasing first-time offenders and low-risk criminals. Unfortunately, that descriptor was sometimes applied to the wrong people, and they ended up releasing people who really should still be locked up.
That wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t just sit by and accept that Doug was going to be out wandering the streets again. That he was going to be able to find me and make my life miserable or worse. There had to be something else I could do. There had to be some way I could make the court listen to me and hear why he shouldn’t be allowed to be free after such an incredibly short sentence.
Fiona brought me a cold ginger ale and encouraged me to sip it as she gently rubbed my back. She hadn’t said much since she got to the house. That was one of the best things about my best friend. She wasn’t one to hesitate in standing up for herself or the people she loved, but she was also good at knowing when to just be quiet and be there.
That was one of those moments. I just needed to know she was there for me, not to have her asking questions or telling me what she thought. There was enough going through my brain and enough questions I was being forced to answer. I needed the break in between.
I felt useless, and I hated it. Just sitting there on the couch while people moved around me, trying to find solutions for me, was frustrating and made my stress and anxiety even worse. But there was nothing else I could do. Every time I tried to get up to do something more, my stomach revolted, and I was forced right back down.
No one had said anything about it other than Fiona encouraging me to keep sipping the ginger ale. But I most certainly noticed. It was at the very front of my mind, making me wonder what was actually happening. It had been a while since struggling with my nerves had made me feel sick to my stomach. Could I actually be pregnant?
I didn’t know. Not for sure. No matter how strong my feelings were, I couldn’t say that I was absolutely positive. That test was still tucked away in my bathroom. I needed to talk to Alex about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
Half of me said I should tell him about my suspicions so he could be there for me when I actually took the test, and we could work through it no matter what the result. The other half said I needed to keep it to myself and not say anything until I knew.
All of his brothers and Fiona stayed at the house for several hours talking over options. Cameron’s lawyer was talking to others about what they thought they might be able to do. Alex had consulted with a security company. Fiona had a plan to check on me regularly throughout the day, and we had come up with a code word to use in a text, voicemail, or note if there was any incident and I needed to communicate it quickly and subtly.
There were so many moving parts, it was overwhelming. I felt like I was in a movie, only this one wasn’t scripted for a nice, neat ending. The truth was, I didn’t know what was going to happen next.
By the time I snuggled into Alex’s side that night, there was a whole network of plans in place. I wanted to feel happy and relieved, but instead, I just felt like a burden. Wanting to cherish every bit of my time with Alex in case it was cut short, I nuzzled as close to him as I could get.
