The case has attracted a bit of media attention, given Martha’s status, but she hasn’t let that move her from what she knows is right. She had already made the choice by the time we met, but I’m pretty sure it was seeing the twins that confirmed it for her. Realizing that, if she kept covering for her son, they would spend the rest of their days under the shadow of his cruelty. He wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t back down no matter what we threw at him, and the only way that we could be sure this would be done with was putting him behind bars.
“Do you need anything?” she fussed kindly. “A glass of water, something to eat?”
“No, I’m okay, thanks,” I reply, smiling back at her in the mirror. “I just think I want to get this over with.”
She nods, and holds open the bathroom door for me to step back into the courthouse corridor. The polished floors and scent of cleaning product in the air give it a strangely sterile feel, despite the flood of emotions that are coursing through me right now. Maybe that’s a good thing. I need to control myself, make sure I hit every point that I’ve gone over with my lawyer when I take the stand.
All eyes turn to me when I step into the courtroom, and I clench my jaw, doing my best not to let my nerves show on my face. I don’t make eye contact with Thom, who’s currently slumped in the accused’s box. I can feel his glower burning into my skin, but I refuse to let him get to me. God knows I’ve given him enough space inside my head as it is, and I will not let him live there for a second longer.
Martin rises to his feet, gesturing for me to come and join him, and I sit down next to him, my back straight and my shoulders pulled back. The jury will already be watching me, judging how trustworthy I am and if they believe anything that comes out of my mouth.
The judge drones through the introduction to the day’s hearing, and Martin presses his knee against mine just out of sight of the jury, a silent reminder that he’s here for me, no matter what. As if I didn’t know that already. He has talked me through this testimony more times than I can count, and I’m not sure I would be able to come close to the level of confidence I have now if it wasn’t for him.
The simple truth is that Martin believes me—he has always believed me, when it comes to the matter of his son, and that has been enough to get me through even the hardest nights of self-doubt and shame.
“Lila King?”
My head snaps up when I hear my name spoken, and Martin nods to me, urging me onward. I rise to my feet, smoothing out my already-perfect pencil skirt, and make my way to the stand.
All I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest, the weight of what I’m about to do burning inside my brain. After this, everything that Thom did to me will be public knowledge. There will be no turning back, no pretending that he didn’t abuse me for years, no lying about what I put up with or what I ignored. No, everything that I’ve tried to avoid all this time is about to come crashing down on top of me, immortalized forever as part of these court documents.
I’m sworn in, and his lawyer steps before me, shuffling the papers which I assume contain the details of everything I already shared with the police about his treatment of me.
“Ms. King,” he begins. “You were involved with the accused in a romantic relationship for several years, is that correct?”
Finally, I lock eyes with Thom for the first time. And instead of the terrifying monster I have held him as in my head for all these years, he just looks like…a man. A pathetic man, at that, with dark rings under his eyes, a crumpled suit, a glower on his face like a petulant teenager. He clearly still thinks he has some kind of hold over me, and I’m more than ready to prove him wrong, once and for all.
“Yes, that’s correct,” I reply, leaning forward to speak into the microphone to make sure everyone can hear me. I look to the lawyer, silently insisting that he continue, and just like that, he launches into the questioning of my testimony.
And I find myself batting back every question with ease. Even as he tries to trip me up and make me look a fool, I correct him, remembering in vivid detail everything I said to the cops, drawing on the evidence that I have already put forward to make sure I don’t pull in something that hasn’t already been covered. I hardly even recognize my own voice as it comes out of my mouth, the confidence and calm with which I speak. It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, a sudden peacefulness coursing through me as I recognize that I’m in the right here and there’s nothing this man can do to change that.
By the time he finishes, he’s slightly sweaty, his thinning hair pasted over his forehead. He looks back at Thom, who has now transferred his glare to his lawyer, and I feel a surge of relief in my chest. I’ve done it. I’ve really done it. After this day, I will never have to lay eyes on Thom again. And if this jury has listened to a word that I’ve said, he will finally be getting everything he deserves.
The judge calls for a break. On shaky legs, I make my way toward the door, Martin just behind me, his hand on the small of my back. The moment I make it outside, I feel my legs give out underneath me, and he catches me before I hit the ground.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, pulling me upright. “You’re okay. You did good in there. Amazing, actually.”
“Really?” I breathe, hardly daring to believe it.
He nods. “Really. Come on, you need something to eat.”
He guides me outside, where the summer air is warm and the sunshine bright above us. It feels like a damn miracle that all of this is finally over, like something I must have fished from the depths of my fantasy world. It’s done. I have finally stood against Thom, made it known what he did to me, with no shame left to cling to me any longer.
No, all the shame in this situation is his. It belongs to him, for everything he’s done to me and all the other people he’s hurt along the way.
Once we have the go-ahead from the court manager to leave, Martin takes me to a small cafe nearby, orders us practically half the menu, and pushes a fancy coffee across the table for me to sip on while we wait for it to arrive.
“Is that really it?” I murmur as I wrap my hands around the cup, focusing on the warmth coursing out from inside.
He nods. “It really is. And I know that even if any of the jury weren’t convinced, there’s no way they could still believe he was innocent after the way you were on that stand.”
I manage a small smile. “God, I hope so.”
“I don’t have to hope. I know so.” He takes my hand and plants a kiss against the back of it, and I giggle and draw away from him.
“Hey, careful,” I warn him playfully. “Don’t want to be accused of anything indecent, do we?”
He chuckles, and as the food arrives, I feel my appetite spring back to life. Reaching across the table, I pick out a few spring rolls and eat like my life depends on it.
