Read The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella Online

Authors: Suzanne Sweeney

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult, #BEACH, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #FOOTBALL

The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (154 page)

I wrap my arms around my body, hugging myself tightly, holding myself together. I miss him.  I miss him more with each day that passes.  Why isn’t it getting any easier?

I need to respond, but what do I say?  That I can’t wait to see him?  That I’m sorry for everything?  No.  It’s insufficient and pointless.

Jette:  I’ll be there too.    

My mind is reeling.  I’m going to see Evan, and for the first time in five days, my spirits lift a fraction and I allow myself to wonder how he’s been. Has he missed me? Probably not like I’ve missed him. 

I cry myself to sleep at night, wishing I hadn’t been so foolish, wishing that things could be different, wishing that we were together. How long will this hideously overwhelming feeling last? Throughout the night in bed, I toss and turn, trying to sleep.  I am in purgatory.

In the large mirror on the wall, I take a long, hard look at my face as I prepare to face Evan and Ryker in court.  I’m hopelessly pale with dark circles around dull green eyes that have lost their spark.  I look gaunt, haunted.  There isn’t enough makeup in the known world to make me look human again. 

Auggie peeks his head in to check on me.  I let him pick out my clothes today, and he’s chosen a simple skirt and gray satin shirt.  I bend down to zip up my boots, and Auggie takes my hand in his, eyeing the engagement ring I’m still wearing on my left hand.  “Do you think this is a good idea?” he asks.  “Maybe it’s time ... ” his voice trails off.

“One week, Auggie.  It’s only been one week.  I swore I would never take this ring off, and I’m not breaking another promise.”  Auggie says nothing.  He understands.  Instead he holds up my jacket for me to slip into and walks me to the car.

Auggie and I drive quietly to the County Courthouse.  The closer we get, the more anxious I become.  Gavin called last night to go over my testimony.  He feels strongly that I should say something about how the fire has impacted my life and what I think Ryker’s punishment should be.

There is no amount of pushing or prodding that could convince me to speak.  I’ll fall apart and break into a million tiny pieces if I even try.  We’ll just have to let justice decide Ryker’s fate.

Auggie and I push through the crowds gathered along the front of the courthouse.  No one recognizes me until we reach the steps.  When the first paparazzo calls out my name, all the cameras turn toward us as flashes go wild.  I don’t have to wait long to hear the questions I’ve been dreading. “Where’s Evan?” and, “Why isn’t he here with you?”

Of course, I ignore them all and make my way up the steps, gathering strength from Auggie’s hand placed solidly on my back, propelling me forward and reminding me that I’m not alone. 

One of the guards takes pity on me and directs us toward the proper courtroom.  I breathe a sigh of relief when I find that we’re among the first to arrive.  I wish I could become invisible and go unnoticed, but there’s no use even trying.  Auggie and I take a seat behind the prosecutor’s desk and wait as the courtroom slowly fills up.

My heart stops when I hear his voice.  “How are you?” he asks, his voice strong and friendly.

I want to answer him truthfully.  “Well, I’m going bat-shit crazy,” is what I wish to say.  But when I turn to answer him, I realize he’s not speaking to me at all – he’s speaking to Gavin. 

I can’t tear my eyes away from him.  I’ve missed seeing his face and I don’t know when I’ll get to see it again. 

He looks over at us and offers Auggie a friendly handshake.  The two men awkwardly exchange knowing looks.

“Auggie,” Evan says, “good to see you.”

“Evan,” Auggie replies, “glad you could make it.”

Then he passively looks at me.  There is no handshake for me.  No kind words.  He simply says my name, “Juliette,” and the sound of it leaving his lips makes me numb to everything around us. 

Everyone goes quiet when the judge enters the courtroom.  He orders the defendant be brought in, and I watch as Ryker is escorted in wearing his prison jumpsuit and handcuffs.  He does not look at me or at Evan.  He takes a seat at the defense table, and I can see his hands are shaking.

Judge Carmichael asks to see the pre-sentencing report and asks if either the defense or the prosecution would like to offer any last-minute changes.  Both signify acceptance of its contents.  The judge speaks briefly with an officer of the court, signs the report, and hands it off.

Now the case moves into the next phase.  The judge asks the prosecution if there is anyone who would like to make a victim’s impact statement before sentencing.  The prosecutor turns and looks at Gavin, and then proceeds to tell the judge that none of the victims wish to make a statement at this time.

Now we move directly into sentencing.  “I see here that a plea agreement has been made and agreed to by both sides.  According to the terms of the plea bargain, Corporal Donovan has agreed to a lesser charge of arson in the fourth degree, and in exchange will be serving the maximum penalty of eighteen months to be served in Trenton Psychiatric Hospital to receive treatment for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder caused by his overseas service.  Upon release, Corporal Donovan will be on probation for minimum of three years, during which time he will report to the probation department, find gainful employment, and repay the victims in the amount of two hundred thousand dollars.”

Why didn’t I know anything about a plea agreement?  I wasn’t informed and I certainly wasn’t asked for my input.  But what is done is done, and I can’t change it.  At least I know I can close this very painful chapter of my life and move on.

Just like that, the entire thing is over.  The judge leaves first, and then everyone else begins chatting and filing out of the courtroom.  Gavin and Evan are talking and shaking hands, and both seem pleased with the results today.  I’m not sure how I feel.  I suppose indifferent would be an appropriate description.

Auggie helps me with my coat again, and when I turn around, I’m face to face with Evan.  “Juliette, can we talk?” he asks, his face stern and harsh.

I look to Auggie to see what I should say.  “I’ll be right here, Jepetto,” he promises, urging me forward.

“Okay,” is all I can manage to respond.

“Listen carefully. I don’t have a lot of time, but there are a few things here that need to be said.  I have another hearing in forty-five minutes in family court.  You look like crap.  Your friends are all worried about you.  You need to take better care of yourself.  Why haven’t you been to see Dr. Falkowski?” he asks.

“What difference does it make?” I ask him.  “And besides, what do you care what I do?”

He glares at me, his lips pursed together and eyes unblinking.  If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.  “Do you think I don’t care?  Do you think I stopped loving you and worrying about you every fucking minute of the day, Juliette?”

“I don’t understand,” I tell him.  “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you’re not the only one hurting here.  You haven’t called, not even once to check on Maddy.  I call Auggie every goddamn day just to see how you’re doing.  Every frigging time the doorbell rings, I jump up to see if it’s you.  Have you given up on me?  Have you given up on us?”

“You broke up with me.  You kicked me out of the house.  You cancelled our wedding. What am I supposed to do, Evan?”

He looks down at me, his expression vacant for a split second, and then he frowns.  He leans down and whispers in my ear, “You’re supposed to fight.”  Evan turns and walks away, leaving me speechless and dumbstruck. 

He’s right, of course.  I can’t continue to live like this, and I haven’t made a single attempt to fix this situation. 

I
wait in Dr. Falkowski’s office for his first appointment early in the morning.  When he comes down the stairs and sees me in his waiting room, he smiles kindly at me.  His office is charming and welcoming, warmed by a small fire burning in the fireplace.  I take a seat in one of his leather chairs and take a deep breath to calm my frayed nerves.  I’ve got a long story to tell, and mine does not have a happy ending.

Dr. Falkowski does not interrupt me as I weave together the story of how and why I arrived here today.  He’s very patient and understanding as I recount the details, occasionally veering off onto loosely connected tangents.  I find the telling of what happened is the easy part.  It’s explaining the whys for each that I struggle with.  Things that I thought I knew and believed at the time now seem absurd and ridiculous in hindsight.

“You’ve painted quite a picture, Juliette.  Let me begin by telling you that I wish you had come to me sooner.  Much sooner, in fact.  If you had, I suspect things would be very different right now.  But neither you nor I can change the past, and you’re here now.  So let me ask you this. What were you most afraid of?  Why did you fight so hard to maintain control and insulate Evan from everything that was unfolding?  Were you protecting him, or were you, in fact, protecting yourself?”

“Both, I think,” I reluctantly admit.  “Evan was single for a long time, and the possibility of him preferring to live an unattached life free of complications was always in the back of my mind.  I was terrified about what might happen if he ever found out about any of it.  I was afraid I would lose him forever.”

“Well, he knows now,” the good doctor points out. 

“Yes, he does.”

The thing I feared most, I created.  And I learned something in the process.  You cannot hide from the truth, you cannot sweep it under the carpet, and you cannot wish it away.  It will come out.  The only control anyone has over the truth is the manner in which it is revealed.  And that is where I failed.

“So what do I do now?” I ask Dr. Falkowski.  “Do I pick up the pieces and move on, or do I fight to get my life back?  And how would I even start?”

“Ask yourself two key questions, Juliette.  First, do you truly harbor feelings for Evan, or are you just afraid of being alone?  You must be absolutely certain you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

Without hesitation, I answer.  “I love him.”

“Good.  Now, let me ask you this.  Was your past relationship with him healthy?  It’s much easier to remember all the wonderful parts of your relationship and forget about the bad.  I need you to make an honest assessment of your experiences together.  Was your life better with him or without him?”

Hmm.  That one’s a bit harder to answer.  My life with Evan was more complicated, that’s for sure.  We’ve each had our share of tragedies.  And it seems that each was brought on, although not intentionally, by the other.  But my life was fuller, happier, and more meaningful than I ever dreamed possible.  “Better,” I tell him, “much better.”

“That’s good to hear, but remember, the key to reconciliation is having two people willing to work hard at putting the relationship back together. If you have one person willing to work hard and the other not really having his or her heart in it, then reconciliation will never be successful. For reconciliation to be successful, both parties have to not just forgive, but trust. Most often, rebuilding a broken relationship damaged by betrayal or distrust can be a real challenge. However, rebuilding is not impossible.”

“Can you tell me where Evan’s heart is?  Do I even have a chance with him?” I hold my breath while I wait for his response. 

“Ah, Juliette, you know I can’t discuss anything that happens in Evan’s sessions.  You’re going to have to answer that question for yourself.  Is it worth moving forward even if you’re unsure of your chances of success?”

“Definitely.  I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least try.”

“Then it would seem that we have the beginning of a plan for moving forward.  Our time for today is up, but I’d like to see you again.  Before I do, I’d like you to try something.  I want you to do something kind and thoughtful for Evan without any hopes or expectations attached.  This small act should be for his benefit alone, and your only compensation will be the knowledge of what you’ve done.”

I leave his office after making an appointment to come again in two day’s time.  I have a lot to think about.

What are some things that make Evan happy?  My head is swimming with ideas, but none of them seem a grandiose enough gesture.  Sending him flowers would be lame.  I’ve baked him all kinds of special treats in the past and he’s always enjoyed them, but that would be taking the easy way out.  I consider writing him a love letter, but that’s too self-serving.  I don’t have the money to buy an expensive gift, so it has to be something completely different.

Then it hits me – the two things that mean the most to Evan are sports and family.  And I think I have just the way to bring them both together for him in the most special and unexpected way.  But in order to pull it off, I’m going to need help – and lots of it.  I just hope that the very same people I need to help me right now have not completely written me off.

My first call is to Adam.  He’s my wildcard.  The entire plan hinges not only on his willingness to help me (or even take my phone call), but also on his networking expertise.  For my plan to work, Adam has got to come through for me.

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