"Patrick, all of my clothes are at Macy's apartment. I have no clue what to wear. It's best if I just don't fucking go." I yelled at him.
I was on edge. He knew I was on edge, and he got why. He didn't push me.
"Charlie said that you can just come over and pick out some things. You need to go Alice." Patrick said, not raising his tone even slightly. He was so patient.
I didn't deserve him.
He walked over to me, and gently brought me into his chest. He knew it helped calmed me, even though sometimes it came with a violent reaction. The rise and fall of his chest helped slow the rise and fall of mine.
"We will get through this. He will go away for the rest of his life for what he did to you." He reenforced. He tipped my chin to look up at him. "You can do this. I will be there for you every second."
---
Seeing him in handcuffs only made me feel slightly better about being in the same room with him. I had lost so much weight it was bordering on dangerous. But I couldn't keep anything down. Since I had received the phone call, my stress levels were through the roof. Patrick was cautious of anything he said or did around me, but I appreciated him for not ceasing to give up on me, especially after he came home to find me sobbing in the closet. More than once.
The trial would last a few weeks, and I was going to have to testify, because my father and sister were also going to testify, only they were going to say I was a liar. The whole situation made me sick, but I just had to do it.
Patrick was going to stay with me as much as he could, but he always had to go home for games. It was going to suck.
I didn't listen to most of what was happening, because I lived it. I didn't need the play by play.
My whole life had changed since that stupid piece of shit called me. Besides the outbursts of anger, and random crying, I felt somewhat freed. For years I had been pushed away and called a liar. My own sister had made fun of me being molested as a child, and here he was, on trial. In a way I had already won.
The sound of the gavel banging broke me out of my trance, and Patrick stood up. I followed him out of the courtroom, and my stomach dropped as I saw the several reporters outside that I had to deal with.
"Hey," Patrick said, squeezing my hand gently. "You don't have to say anything to anyone. You just keep walking, our car is out front, and the driver is ready to take us back to the hotel. I'm here." he brought my hand up to his mouth where he left a small kiss on the top of it.
"Okay." I nodded at him.
He led me out of the courthouse and we were immediately hounded by reporters.
"What was it like to face the man that molested you?"
"Did he say anything to you?"
"Patrick, how are you dealing with all of this?"
"Patrick, how is this trial effecting your season?"
Of course the questions hurt, they weren't meant to make me feel better. They were only meant to find the dirtiest gossip they could, and print it for the masses.
We couldn't get to the car soon enough, but once we did, we were off. I leaned into Patrick for support, being too emotionally drained to function. The ride back was quick, and we rushed into the hotel once we got there. I looked at Patrick for the first time in what felt like hours, days even, and I mean really looked at him. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, his hair out of control, but he was still so incredibly handsome. I could always feels his eyes on me during the trial, or when I was talking to the prosecutors. He always wanted me to feel comfortable and safe with him. But it was wearing on him, and I couldn't help but feel guilty.
I grabbed his hand, and laced his fingers through mine. I needed to feel his touch.
Once we got in the room, he shrugged off his jacket, and took off his tie. I sat down next to him on the edge of the bed, and laid my head on his shoulder.
"Thank you." I whispered.
"For what, baby?" He asked, turning to face me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
"For being here. I was so alone for so many years, and I pushed everyone away. But you were persistent. You just wanted to be there. And for that I can't thank you enough." I looked up at him.
"You're the most beautiful, intelligent, funny girl, I've ever met, and I am so incredibly blessed to be able to call you mine. You gave me a run for my money, you made me work for everything, and I'm so glad you gave me a shot." He said, placing a small kiss on my temple.
I blinked the tears out of my eyes. I was tired of crying.
"How about some dinner." I smiled at him, hoping he took my cue to move on from the emotional subjects.
"Sure. I'm not sure what kind of restaurants are around here, but we can get room service if you just want to stay in?" Patrick suggested.
"Let's just get some room service. I want to spend as much time as I can with you as I can before you head out to California." I said, trying to keep myself from showing too much emotion about him leaving. Once he left, I had no one there with me.
---
I took a look in the mirror, and checked out my appearance.
I did my makeup very light, my hair was done in soft curls that fell to the middle of my back. Today I decided to wear a black dress that fell to my knees. I looked professional. I also looked strong as hell.
"You ready?" Patrick asked, coming into the room, and stopping once he saw me.
"What?" I asked, overly conscious of what I looked like.
"You are breath taking." He smiled at me.
I stepped forward, placed my arms around his neck, and kissed him. He was more than my boyfriend. He was my best friend.
Today was more than just a day in court. It was the day where I would testify against that piece of trash. I had practiced with the prosecution, so I was fairly numb to the instances of abuse that I faced, but I wasn't prepared to face what the defense would ask me.
"The prosecution would like to call Alice Stanley to the stand." the lead attorney stated.
Patrick squeezed my hand, before letting it go so that I could stand. I straightened my dress, and walked as confidently as I could up to the stand. As they swore me in, I could feel a pair of eyes heavy on me. I could feel the smirk on his crusted lips, revealing his disgustingly yellow teeth.
The questions started off easy, who I was, how I was related to the defendant, and other general information.
"At what age do you first remember Mr. Stanley doing anything that you weren't comfortable with?" He asked.
"My earliest memory was from the age of 9." I answered.
Reliving the experiences of my childhood were traumatic. Having the defense question my answered, like I was making this all up for fun. But every time I wanted to stop, I would just look at Patrick. This was hurting him, but it was helping us at the same time. Every moment of trauma that I brought up, brought me closer to Patrick. I wasn't holding back anymore. I was giving Patrick every bit of myself.
The judge ordered the jury to deliberate. I hoped and prayed with all of my might, that they would believe me. For once, that someone would.
The car ride was silent, Patrick was upset, and it hurt me. So I did something out of character. I climbed onto his lap, and laid my head in the nook of his shoulder.
"Baby, please." Patrick whined, but he didn't push me away.
"It's over. It's all over now. Whatever they decide, I never have to deal with this ever again. I will never give him another second of my life. The only thing that I will worry about ever again, is you." I said, a lightness in my tone.
"But what if-" He started, but I cut him off with a kiss. I wouldn't let him worry anymore. He wasn't going to be there for the verdict, he was flying out tomorrow, but after the verdict we would be back together. If I got out there in time, I would finish out their west coast trip with them.
Boldly, I deepened the kiss, and he wasn't one to say no. His hand moved up my thigh, and onto my butt. Our relationship had never lacked affection, but there was absolutely nothing sexual about our relationship. But finally I was ready.
"Baby, I love this, but we're at the restaurant." He said, reluctantly, breaking our kiss.
"We can always just get room service." I said between placing kisses on his neck.
"Girl, don't tempt me." He smiled at me. "But I got us a reservation."
"Fine." I sighed, slipping off of his lap.
"But I won't forget this." He winked at me, placing once last kiss on my lips.
The driver opened the door, and helped me out as Patrick adjusted himself, causing me to giggle.
Patrick gave me a look, and lightly swatted my butt as we walked up.
"Ah, Mister Kane. Your table is ready for you in our most private room." The host said, showing us the way.
The door was opened, and my jaw fell to the ground and tears sprang to my eyes.
Everyone was there.
Everyone.
The whole team, road staff, and some of the wives and girlfriends that I had gotten close to.
Charlie wasted no time rushing up to me, and crushing me with a hug.
As soon as she hit me, the waterworks started.
It was hard to hold back emotion, so I stood there sobbing into her arms.
This was my family. This is what a family was supposed to be, and I finally had one.
Once the crying slowed down, we broke apart, laughing at how hard we had cried. We were certainly two of a kind.
"Hey babe, mind if I get in for a hug?" Jonathan asked, with a smile on his face.
"Shut up." She lightly smacked his arm.
I laughed as he pulled me into a hug, appreciating his care for me.
I went around and greeted all of my friends, and thank Patrick a million times.
It was more than perfect.
-----
So obviously this was a hard chapter to write. I decided not to go into detail of her abuse, because it was unnecessary. The more I wrote of it, the more uncomfortable I felt. SO yeah.
Also, I know it seems quick for her to be okay to start a sexual relationship have revealing all of those horrible things that have happened to her, but it was therapeutic for her. No one ever listened to her when she told people about the abuse, so now she feels free.
So, anyone who knows me (which is no one on here) knows that I have THE worst self doubt. I second guess myself constantly, and take random people's criticism to heart. When I posted Baby, I'm Worth It, I didn't think anyone would read my story, let alone like it. I don't always like my style of writing, I rarely finish what I start because I don't get the response that I want, and I don't want to give anyone a crap story. I care about what I write, so I will never give you a chapter to "get you by" just to hate it, and feel like shit about it. I almost posted what I had written so many times, but it wouldn't have been complete, and I just don't feel right doing that. So these chapters may not always get to you as you like, but I am trying. I think about this story all of the time.
I appreciate everyone who reads this story. Thank you always.