"They will tell you things to make you doubt yourself. You may slip up, and you will probably want to give in, but I need you to remember why you're there. I need you to remember that Becca is waiting for you, she needs you. And when you feel like giving in, just look for me in the crowd."
I remembered his words from last night, and they gave me strength. I also knew that Maria was in there. She was on my side and so was my family. To say I was scared was an understatement. I'd been here before. I’d lost, but I reminded myself of one thing: I was unarmed the last time. I’d been a broken woman, a woman scorned by the man she’d loved and devoted fifteen years of her life to. It's true what they say about marrying young, it was not something many survived. Reid and I hadn’t.
One night when Jude and I were lying in hammocks outside, he’d asked me what I would have done differently, and my answer was simply nothing. I would not change a thing because I had faith that at the end of this, I would have my daughter and a future that I was in charge of. I would have learned what not to do, I would have learned the value of forgiveness and of discernment. I now knew the signs, and I was a better person for it. I wasn't an abused woman, I was a woman who was once abused. That part of my life did not define who I was now.
Walking into the courtroom, I held onto Devlin's arm for support. My big brother looked down at me, and I knew I was safe. I looked ahead to where his beautiful wife stood waiting for me. In the public seats were my mother, my sisters, and Tilly. I smiled at them all.
The infamous Claude Shaver sat next to Reid. I would recognize Reid anywhere, he sat straight-backed, proud, looking forward. He didn't look my way, even after I was seated at the table next to him with Maria by my side. He also didn't talk to Shaver who gave me a sidelong glance.
There were days when I’d lay in that hospital bed, wondering how he could’ve stopped loving me the way he had. The fact was that he did stop loving me. I could not convince myself that it was anything else after the way he hurt me, and I am not only referring to the physical abuse.
Sometimes when I closed my eyes, I saw Reid. The Reid who was my friend, my lover, the way we used to be before all this happened. Taking our daughter for picnics in the park or ice-skating. I wondered at times if he heard about my accident. I supposed he had, he just never cared enough. It sometimes hurts, as it should. We used to be in love, closer than any two people could be. If the situations were reversed, would I have stood aside and watched him suffer without batting an eye?
"All rise," The Bailiff shouted, "The Court of New Orleans is now in session, the Honourable Judge Peters presiding." Maria squeezed my hands, indicating that I should stand. Everyone remained standing until the judge entered and was seated. Judge Peters was an elderly woman with sharp features, her hair knotted in a neat bun at the back of her head. She wore broad-rimmed spectacles and looked as if she never smiled a day in her life. She was refreshing when compared to the last judge, a stocky man who looked as if he had beef sausages for fingers. I hadn’t liked the way he’d looked at me when I took the stand. He seemed like one of those sick, perverse types who would be slapped with several sexual harassment suits in any other profession.
Judge Peters proceededto ask Maria and Shaver if they were ready to begin the trial. Shaver’s questioning was the same as it was the last time, except this time I didn't slur when I answered.
In retrospect, downing half a bottle of whiskey before taking the stand had been pretty fucked up.
"Are you an alcoholic, Miss Craig?"
I looked him straight in the eye and answered with a big fat no. That resulted in him airing out my dirty laundry which I was more than ready for.
"I had been under a huge amount of stress and used alcohol as an escape and coping mechanism. I have been seeking help since that time and on several occasions, spoke to my psychiatrist about it."
“Do you consider yourself to be a responsible parent, Miss Craig?”
“I certainly do, but that doesn’t mean I am faultless.”
"Does letting your child watch you beg your neighbors for alcohol sound responsible?"
"No, it does not."
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
I shook my head. This was so predictable. They hadn't changed their game plan, and I hoped that would be to my advantage.
Maria approached the bench, giving me a warm smile.
“Ms. Craig, was there a reason you and your daughter were on the front lawn that day besides to seek alcohol?”
I nodded. "Yes, my husband was inside with one of the many women he used to bring around. He didn't know that I'd gone to fetch my daughter. She was supposed to stay over at her grandfather's, but I missed her and wanted her with me. When he opened the door with just his trunks and saw her with me, he slammed the door in our face and bolted it. I ran to the neighbor’s for some water while we waited because Becca wanted some, and I guess I asked for some vodka too. She was a few yards from me, sitting on the front porch."
“No further questions, Your Honor,”
I watched as Claude Shaver stalked toward me. He was a good looking man in his fifties who knew that Botox went a long way. Still, he had an unlikeable face. His light brown hair and caramel skin might have made many women swoon but knowing how ruthless he was, did nothing for me. He unbuttoned his expensive suit, and I raised an eyebrow. This ought to be good.
"Miss. Craig, this is not the first mention of your husband's infidelity, is it?"
“No, I mentioned it the last time.”
“Reid Craig hardly seems like the kind of man who would carry out extramarital affairs. He’s a devoted father, wouldn’t you say?”
"He is. He loves our daughter, that was the only time he slipped up. Otherwise, he kept it pretty well hidden." I looked at my ex-husband for the first time. He stared at me, but it was as if he didn't see me.
“Do you have any proof of this?”
“I do,” he looked taken aback.
