“Yes,” she shouts and nearly launches herself at me. I shut the ring box on the way down, my ass landing firmly on the sand. She grabs my face and kisses me breathless, not saying anything, just showing me her excitement through touch and affection in a way that is so her.
“Do you want to see the ring?” I ask when she parts from my lips, her hands still on my face as she nods her head.
I hold it out and open the box that shows off the pear shaped diamond with a simple white gold band.
“Holy fuck,” she whispers as I take it out of the box and place it on her shaking finger. It’s a perfect fit and she beams at me as she holds her hand out to the sunset. “It’s gorgeous. I love it.”
“It was my grandmother’s. I think she would have wanted my future wife to have it.”
That makes her eyes water as she wraps her arms around my neck and sits on my lap.
“I love you, I’m so happy,” she says, and I can tell she’s crying happy tears. I just hold her against me.
“There is a big ass marry me sign at the end of the beach with a photographer. Should we reenact it?” She laughs and pulls back. I brush off the rogue tear from her cheek.
“I don’t think it gets any more perfect than this.”
“I don’t think so either,” I say before leaning in and kissing my fiancée.
* * *
The engagement bubble is a real fucking thing. It feels like Jessa and I have been on this high since I proposed, but I’m stressing the fuck out about today.
It could set everything back. Will seeing him in court take her back to where she was after the break in? Not that it would change anything for me when it comes to our relationship, she’s just worked so hard to get to where she is. I don’t want this asshole to take anything else away from her. We both have to testify today, but she’s first.
She wore a modest navy dress and a blazer to the court house. She’s been fidgeting with her engagement ring since we got here. I’m just glad that the prosecutor said that I could be in the room while she testifies. The idea of leaving her to do this alone just wasn’t an option.
We’re out in the hallway when the paralegal comes to collect us.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” I ask Jessa with a gentle hand on her lower back.
“Yeah, I’m not letting him take anything else from me.” She stands a little taller and we follow her into the courtroom. I take a seat on the third row as the guard directs her to the bench. When I look over at the defense, Sean is staring at her, and I have to take a few deep breaths so that I don’t make things any worse.
Jessa takes her oath and the prosecution starts. They mostly ask her to recall the entire event, and I have to focus and mentally tell myself that she’s okay now and she’s with me. Hearing how afraid she was in those moments breaks my heart, and I just need this asshole to be put away for the longest time.
The prosecution asks her about her relationship with Sean, and she dissects that briefly, but the main thing they focus on are Sean’s illegal actions. Jessa holds it together and makes sure to speak to the lawyer and the jury as she goes into every detail of that night.
But then everything goes to hell when the defense cross examines her. Sean’s lawyer is expensive, and from what I read online, he’s good at what he does. The prosecution told Jessa what to expect and how they might use tricky lines of questioning to help Sean’s case.
Jessa rubs her face with her left hand, and I watch in awe as Sean’s face turns red, seeing my ring on her finger. Sean glares at her, and it’s the worst move he could have made as I notice the jury logging every reaction.
“Miss Peters, you were in a relationship with my client Sean McPherson for four years, is this correct?”
“That’s correct,” she replies, not answering any more than what he asks.
“You and my client were both members of a kink community in DC, is that correct?”
Jessa’s eyes meet mine, and I give her a little nod. This slimy motherfucker. “That’s correct.”
“You and mister McPherson were involved in a dynamic where he was the dominant and you agreed to be submissive to him in both your public and private lives?”
“Objection, relevance,” the prosecutor says.
“Sustained, Mr. Holland, I don’t see the relevance of your client’s sexual preferences to this case.”
“I’m establishing the dynamic between my client and Miss Peters was one where Mr. McPherson was in charge of all the couple’s decisions.”
“Continue,” the judge says.
