More unwelcome tears slide down my cheeks, and I swipe them away with the sleeve of my sweater and try to pull myself together.
Stop it. Stop crying right now. You need to be strong, if not for yourself, for them.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I blink back my tears and force my head up, only to find Christian turned in his seat, staring at me.
I’ve seen him a handful of times over the course of the thirteen-month trial, but looking him in the eye hasn’t gotten any easier. It’s like my brain still hasn’t fully accepted that the monster sitting on trial in front of me is the same boy I fell in love with freshman year.
“I love you.” Christian mouths, the words, silent, yet somehow clear as day.
And I should have never loved you.I think to myself, fixing my eyes on the weathered wainscoting behind him.
Christian glares at me, and after a few tense seconds, he sighs and finally turns back around in his seat.
Seconds later, the bailiff clears his throat, and the courtroom dulls to a hushed silence. “All rise.” He says. “The Honorable Judge Walker is now entering the courtroom.”
Benches groan and metal chair legs screech across the scuffed terrazzo floor. A door near the front of the room opens, and the judge steps in with his black robe billowing behind him. He takes his seat, and the bailiff orders the rest of us to do the same.
The judge places his wiry glasses on the tip of his bulbous nose and looks at the jury. “Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”
A bald man in his late forties rises from his seat in the jury box. “We have, Your Honor. On two counts of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant Christian Sanders…guilty.”
I don’t hear the rest of the verdict.
I’m too busy trying to remember how to breathe.
The courtroom erupts in chaos around me, with everything ranging from screams to cheers to full-on sobs echoing through the tiny courtroom. A sharp wail risesabove the rest, Christian’s mother, and the sound of her agony is so palpable, just hearing it brings fresh tears to my eyes.
I drag my gaze over to Christian, and he doesn’t even look fazed. He’s still sitting at the defense table with his jaw flexed and an otherwise blank expression on his face. Two officers approach him with cuffs in hand, and as his stone-faced lawyers rise from their seats, Christian turns around to face the courtroom.
“I did this for us, Dollface!” He yells, looking directly at me. His voice is laced with so much conviction it makes my whole body lock up. “I fucking love you. I always have, and I always will.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd as accusing glances dart my way. If people didn’t notice I was here before, they do now.
People shout over one another as reporters scramble toward me, and cameras flash like strobe lights from every direction.
I need to get the hell out of here. I need to leave right now before it gets worse. But the exit feels miles away, and the thought of turning around to face the crowd is nauseating.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I flinch, jerking violently before I can stop myself. It’s the bailiff.
“Miss, let’s have you exit through the side door.”
I’m numb. So fucking numb. But I stand up from my seat and follow him, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor.
Mom.
Dad.
They didn’t deserve this. They were innocent. I was the guilty one. I should've heeded the signs. I should've knownwhat was coming. I should've fucking stopped him. But I was too stupid. I was tooin love. And I have no one to blame but myself for that.
I used to think love was the answer to everything. That it was this pure and enviable thing that I could only dream of having. But now I see love for what it truly is.
A disease.
A sickness that infects your brain and destroys everything in its path. And my love just might be the most insidious strain of all.
It turned Christian into a monster.
It turned me into an idiot.
