Amiss

Chapter 20 - Ava

I think this is the strangest moment in my eighteen years alive as two Police officers, Trey and myself, are assembled at a dining table staring across at each other. I wish they were the same two officers that helped me when I was mugged, but sadly they are a less friendly pair. My suspicions are confirmed as we're informed a neighbour reported a domestic dispute. While I don't even want to imagine how this looks, I compose myself and clearly lay out the facts; Trey has PTSD, and I was concerned he was having a depressive episode. The officers eye me with scepticism as Trey chimed in to corroborate my story.

"Ava's right. I was triggered and drinking heavily. But I took my medication and put myself to bed. Ava worried when she couldn't wake me as she didn't know that I have a prescription for sleeping tablets." The Police Officers exchange a meaningful look, which makes me uneasy.

"We're going to need to see those scripts," one of the cops mutters out. But they aren't looking at Trey; all eyes seem to be on me. I refuse to tuck my fringe out of my face, feeling incredibly self-conscious without any makeup on. I know I look ghastly, my eyes feel so swollen from all the crying, and I can't stop my hands from shaking.

"We're going to ask you to step out of the room." One of the cop's orders Trey who immediately complies.

"Sure, I'll get those scripts for you." Moments later, I hear Trey's bedroom door close.

"Miss, we have to ask. Did he lay a hand on you?" I'm shocked at the question and immediately shake my head in the negative.

"If you don't want to talk to us, give me a nod, and I can arrange a female officer to attend." I shake my head again, sterner this time and find my words.

"No, it's nothing like that," I'm calm yet adamant. "I wouldn't be sitting here with Trey if he did something like that. I was just really scared when I couldn't wake him. I thought he'd..." I can't even finish the sentence before I start crying again. "Sorry, I'm a mess."

"I'm sorry to distress you. We had to ask, considering the history." The comment makes me look up in shock and sends my mind reeling. What the hell? Does Trey have a history of domestic violence? I shake my head in disbelief.

Much to my relief, the Police attendance at 77 Highgate Way wraps up after that. Trey joins me on the couch once we're left in peace, taking a seat as far away as possible. I know I don't know the story, but the officer's passing comment has me unsettled. I want to bring it up, but at the same time, I'm in a state of disbelief. Trey makes me feel so safe, and it's unnerving to think he's capable of the contrary.

"You wanna talk about it?" Trey asks after a long silence. I don't realise until he speaks that we've both been staring at the black television screen for the last five minutes.

"Talk about what?" My voice becomes strangely high-pitched. I observe in my peripheral as he shakes his head to himself.

"About why you suddenly can't look at me?" He's right. It's the first time we've maintained eye contact in the last ten minutes. I can barely hold his gaze before I look down at my hands. "Are you regretting what you said to me in the bedroom? Or did you learn something that has you spooked?"

"I meant what I said. But you're right. One of the coppers said something that scared me."

"OK, well, if you tell me what it is, then we can discuss it." I nod slowly before awkwardly telling him of the exchange.

"So, you're taking that to mean I have a history of domestic abuse?" Trey says, keeping his face blank, but the hurt in his eyes is apparent.

"No, I honestly don't believe you could do something like that. But it worries me. I mean, we've known each other such a short time and know so little about each other..." I'm falling for him so quickly. I'm scared, and I don't want to be hurt again. All the things I want to say float off into the ether.