Page 104 of Villainous Summer

“I love you.”

There were flowery words I wanted to use, soliloquies on his gray eyes, and there was the way he made me feel safe. That there would be hard days ahead. I had been living in reality after all. But as long as I had Van beside me, I would be alright. All my anger and doubt couldn’t exist in a world where he loved me.

He bent down, pressing a tender kiss to my mouth, his nose missing my broken one. His last word a vow against my lips.

“Truly.”

Summer

September 22nd, The Autumnal Equinox

It had been a long four weeks of recuperation after my release. Labor Day cookouts and boating trips were replaced by a quiet affair in Van’s backyard. My nose was still tender, but the bruising had healed from two black eyes and a purple nose to an unsightly chartreuse.

The criminal justice system ran slow, and Cory was out on bail until his hearing. I was able to get a protection order in place, keeping him away from me. Still, Van insisted I shouldn’t be alone.

It was too soon to move in together, but with his home being far bigger than my little apartment and much more comfortable, I ended up staying there most nights.

When Autumn suggested we all get together for the equinox, her idea was to perform what she called a release ritual. She wanted to do a four-mile sunset hike up to the top of a nearby peak.

I vetoed that idea, and instead, we met at a beach, where we wrote out our regrets and burned them as we gave thanks for the blessings we had.

A few months before, I would have scoffed, but falling in love with Van had softened me.

I was thankful for my love for him.

He had been nothing more than accommodating, helping me with things that would send other men to the hills.

When I tried to tell him I didn’t want him to see me in such a state, he reminded me he had seen me throw up on at least two occasions and still thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He stayed with me as I gave my statement to the police, where I outlined every moment of the attack. It was hard for him to hear, but he didn’t make a sound, holding my hand as I spoke.

I admitted to the catfishing account but left out the email hacking and other illegal portions.

The police didn’t seem too interested in Cory’s claims that I ruined his life, particularly because the IRS had opened up their case against him.

As I stood on the beach, flames licked my paper, and my words charred into nothing along with my doubts and fears.

After the equinox ritual, Autumn drove me to the bar to meet up with Van and his coworkers for a special Sunday trivia night.

As I sat beside him, Van laced an arm around my waist, pulling me close, and dragged the glass of my favorite cider over to me.

The host, Dr. Factoid, in a neon yellow bowler cap, got up to the microphone, carrying a stack of cards. “Alright, beardos and weirdos, we have another round of trivia, starting with this first question. For five points, what is the least popular flavor of Laffy Taffy?”

I smirked at Van as I wrote the answer.

By the time I had returned to his house, the ten sticks of banana taffy were gone. He told me later that he stress-ate them over a single day.

“What is the longest-running Aaron Sorkin show?” Dr. Factoid asked.

Putting down my cider, I glanced at Van. “This game is too easy, right?”

He laughed, penciling in the answer.

The host flipped another card. “In knitting, what does PSSO mean?”

I almost laughed.

Around us, people furrowed their brows, whispering to one another, while I wrote my anser.

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