The door in the back of the courtroom swings open, the hinges creaking from the force. I keep my head facing the front, refusing to acknowledge the devil himself as he walks in. He thought he could intimidate me, try to get me to break the calm composure I’m faking right now by waiting until the last minute to walk in, asserting the dominance he fakes so well.
Jokes on him, I refuse to bend to his will anymore. I willnever break again. I will never beg for someone to love me, just for them to give me scraps. I will never have to worry about my partner cheating on me, gaslighting me, or using me for what I can offer.
I look at Jericho out of the corner of my eyes, his blonde hair is neatly styled today, the short strands pushed back out of his face with my hair gel. He even let me put a layer of brown mascara on his eyes, drawing attention to his green irises. The green irises that meet mine and there’s strength in them, devotion, dedication. All of that is reserved for me.
I don’t know how I ever got lucky enough to have Jericho in my life, but I’ll never take it for granted again.
Josh struts in, and sits beside his lawyer. I can feel the vibration of him dropping unceremoniously into the chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He thinks he’ll get everything he could ever dream of. He already had access to all of my money, most of which was from our accounts. He had me by the ball and chain, and now that I’m free from the shackles, he has nothing left. This court date is his one last hail mary to get something out of me. Even if it is the knowledge that he signed the papers, but only becausehewanted to. Not because I asked him to, or the lawyer, but he decided he would.
Until the term narcissism used to describe one of our former head choreographers, I never truly understood the word. I thought it was something people used as an insult when they were angry with their partner. Likeugh, you’re so narcissistic you only care about yourself.Which, yes, is still the right way of using it, but I didn’t know what it meant.
Narcissism goes beyond caring only about yourself. It's the need to put others down because they will never live up to you. It’s keeping people as things and objects, things to own rather than someone to build a connection with and share a life with.
Josh never cared about me. Never once was there a nice word aboutmeuttered out of his mouth. He liked how I lookedwhen I wore the clothes he picked out. He liked when I went out with him to corporate dinners and enthralled people with stories of my travels- but only when Josh was present for those travels. There was never a moment I had by myself, and looking back on it now I feel foolish for ever thinking he truly cared about me.
He doesn’t care about anything, except himself and his ego.
I was nothing more than a ballerina in a music box, putting on a show when he decided. Not because I wanted to or enjoyed it, but because his words were law.
The bailiff makes an announcement, but through the fuzz in my ears I can’t comprehend the words he’s saying. Instead, I’m following the queues of everyone else as they stand, waiting for the judge to enter.
Jericho’s hand secures mine, his warm, calloused palm anchoring me to the ground as a woman comes flowing in from the back chambers in a long, flowy, black gown that drags across the floor with every step she takes, her heels clacking against the floor as she takes measured steps towards her bench.
I blacked out at some point–probably when Josh stood up and addressed the Judge in thatperfectly put togetherway he cons everyone into believing his bullshit, the same way I fell for it. I have to hand it to him, he's smart and when he was sucking up, I thought for sure we were done.
I shut down, letting my body carry me into the depths of darkness and waiting for the gavel to bang and keep me locked in this terrifying nightmare.
A slap on my back jolts me out of my thoughts and I swing my head around to look at the person who just made contact with me. It’s my dad and he’s smiling wildly with tears streaming down his face. The insane expression on his face has me cutting my eyes to Jericho to see what’s happening rightnow, the insanity on my dad’s face has me questioning how much I truly missed out on.
But Jericho isn’t doing any better, if anything, he’s doing worse than my dad. He’s just holding it together, but I can see him starting to crumble.
“You did it, tiny dancer.” Jericho’s voice breaks on the last syllable of my nickname, the crack dramatizing the moment and making me realize thatholy shit.I did it. I faced my nowex-husband and I came out on the other side unscathed.
I’m free. Free from Josh. Free from the overbearing needs and demands.
I’m staring at Jericho and the freedom coursing through my veins has my body moving before my mind can catch up.
I palm the back of his head, cupping his neck and twirling my hand through his blonde strands as I drag his face down to meet mine in a kiss.
His lips pressed against mine, and the tears he was holding back joined our kiss in a medley of soft moments. His taste on my tongue and our families around as they watched what was going to be the day that I was strong. But the only reason I was strong was because of this man right here. He showed me my worth, that I don’t deserve to be treated like I’m less thanjust because.I’m lovable and beautiful and there’s more to me than what’s on the surface. I can be caring and show empathy. I love deeply and fully.
And there’s no one other than him I would rather have by my side.
46
JERICHO
“Baby, are you almost ready? Our appointment is in thirty minutes and if we’re late again Dana might possibly kill me.” The possibility of our therapist killing me is low, but not completely zero. There’s a gleam in her eyes that slightly scares me. I think she’s unhinged, but when I bring up the concerns for my well-being to Raiden, he laughs off my concerns. She looks like one of those mean cats that has everyone else fooled, but when you turn your back they jump on you and dig their claws in. It doesn’t help that her eyes are unnaturally green and I’ve seen the way her pupils dilate when Raiden talks about us adopting a dog. She’s thinking of a way to sabotage Raiden from getting one. I can’t prove it, but it’s a gut feeling.
Or maybe I’m reading too much manga. That’s probably what is going on. Raiden filled one of the spare bedrooms with a collection of books from a bookstore a few towns over.
What started off as him buying a book or two has turned into a library. And his newest collection from New Beginnings is Manga, specifically BL. Hunter, the owner, has beenniceenoughto make sure to suggest which ones Raiden should read and that’s led to me reading them as well. The one I just finished, and is sitting on the counter beside me, is about a half-cat shifter who is hiding his identity from his crush.
Very cute, but I think all the fiction is rotting my brain. That’s the only thing that can make sense for why I’m thinking our therapist is moonlighting as a cat. She is helpful though. At first, I was hesitant to start seeing her with Raiden for joint sessions. Especially since my individual sessions are going great, but when Raiden asked if I wanted to sit in with him on a couple’s sessions, I decidedwhy not.It’s not like it would hurt our relationship for someone who is professionally capable to talk to us about our issues.
We’ve overcome a lot, but I know we still have a lot left to cover. With both of us holding onto relationship trauma, we’re not always the most sane people. But he’s the storm, and I’m the anchor, holding us steady as he keeps us wild.
“Almost!” Raiden yells from the bathroom, and by almost, he really means we’re definitely going to be late.
