Page 12 of Love Rewritten

“Further notice?” I ask, fear slowly seeping in at the thought that he might not have to leave me alone forever. But at the same time, is a tiny, thin piece of paper really going to keep him away? I shake the thought from my head, focusing back on Trisha.

“For now, the order will be good for the duration of the case, but once the sentencing happens, I’m going to fight tooth and nail to get the judge to validate this for as long as possible. And if a year or two down the line, we need to apply for it again, then I will fight for you again. I promise you, Abby. I will not leave you alone in this. You’ve got me fighting for you until you tell me otherwise. Dallas will protect you, too. I know he will.”

Dallas nods, squeezing my knee again. I take a deep breath, forcing the fear away, at least temporarily. “What do I need to do?” I ask, and at that moment, it feels like the air gets lighter, easier to breathe, easier to move through, even if only a little.

I hadn’t realized just how little control I felt I had while I was in that conference room until I asked those final words or until we walked out the front door of the county court building. Pausing at the top of the concrete steps, I breathe in the fresh morning air, forcing it deep into my lungs, through my veins, through every limb, until it feels like I didn’t just start the single most difficult thing I may ever have to face. When I open my eyes, Dallas stands a few steps below me, slightly to the side, observing me. Our hands are still intertwined. He squeezes mine, pairing it with a comforting smile.

One final deep breath and I feel like I can move my feet again. I thank Dallas for the foresight to ride the bikes here. I could use some wind therapy right now. And just like that, the hum of our bikes, the twists of the roads, the air soaring past us … It calms me and lets me temporarily forget about life's problems.

Dallas lets me lead, not caring where I take us. He trails close behind, following my every move. I let the bike sway back and forth over the asphalt, my hands held out wide to feel the wind fly past. It’s this kind of peace that I can’t find almost anywhere else, that is until Dallas came along. It’s a similar peace, a little different, but still needed. It’s something I haven’t felt before, even when Sam and I started dating. The thought makes me smile. As much as I can’t stand to remind myself of that dreadful party, it somehow brought me to Dallas.

We pull to a stop on campus, parking in the only decent motorcycle parking section near the cafeteria. I’ve avoided this place as much as possible, but sometimes, I just need a good parking spot. I don’t plan to be here long. I just need to drop off some paperwork with Dr. Kraus and then Dallas has to go to work. I haven’t decided if I’m going to join him or not. A night at home might be exactly what I need after this morning.

As I’m pulling my helmet off, I hear a voice shouting at me from a short distance away. A woman stands from a bench near the cafeteria and starts heading our way. “Abigail?”

No. Not now. I told her I would come pick up the mail myself. My mother strolls forward, a little hesitant, a stack of mail hugged tightly to her chest.

“Mom?” I say, more out of shock than to question whether it’s her or not. There’s no mistaking my look-alike striding toward us.

She smiles awkwardly, looking between Dallas and me as her unspoken question hangs in the air. She stops a few feet away, eyes still trained on Dallas, who I’m assuming she thought would be Sam. “Hi, honey. I brought you your mail. I thought it would be a good reason to come see you. I came to the cafeteria because I assumed you were still working here. But they told me you quit? When did you quit? And why? Did you get another job? You have bills to pay, you know?” She holds up the stack of mail.

Her incessant questioning comes at me like a bus, and I fight the anxiety rising in my chest. I look back to Dallas, who's attempting to school his features into something much calmer than mine before I stalk up to my mom and take the stack of mail from her. “Uh, thank you. I told you I’d come pick it up sometime this week.” I say, ignoring the tail-end of her questions.

“Oh, I know. I just didn’t want to keep you waiting in case there’s something important in there.” She smiles and looks back at Dallas again. “Who’s your friend?”

How the hell am I going to explain all of this to her? I could lie, tell her he’s just a friend, that Sam is busy today so he can’t see her, and that I quit to focus on my studies. But what good will that do? It would draw out the truth longer than I need to, and I’m not sure I could keep up with all the little lies. I’d surely slip up at some point. Be in even bigger trouble.

Before I can protest, Dallas jumps off his bike and jogs over. He extends his hand to my mother. “Hi, I’m Dallas.”

This is not how I wanted them to meet.

She takes it graciously. “Dallas. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Leslie, Abigail’s mother.” She looks around at the other bikes behind us. “Where’s Sam? I expect he’s out riding with you, too. I would love to say hi. Maybe have lunch with you two?”

Dallas must sense my panic because he jumps in before I do although I’m not sure what I would have said in the first place. “Sam's busy right now. Abby was just about to drop off some work for her professor.”

She looks to me now. “Oh, well maybe you and I could still get lunch? And if your friend Dallas here wants to join, he’s more than welcome.” She sends another sweet smile his way.

Look at her, being as friendly as ever. Typical. “I uh, yeah. I have some paperwork to drop off. I guess we could get lunch.”

Fuck. Honesty? It’s now or never. What’s the point in waiting, lying?

Dallas whispers in my ear, “You could have lunch at Landry’s. That way you’ve got me there if something goes wrong.”

My mother eyes us suspiciously.

“Let’s meet in a half hour at Landry’s Bar and Grill. It’s not too far from here.”

She sighs. “Okay. I suppose that’s fine. I could join you back at the apartment and I could drive us.”

“No,” I assert far too quickly. Trying to regain my composure, I simply say, “Half an hour. I’ll meet you there.” Rather than giving her another option, I head toward Dr. Kraus’s office to hand off the paperwork. I really hope she and Dallas don’t make things too awkward.

Dr. Kraus isn’t in his office when I arrive, so I slide it into his mail slot before leaving. My mom is gone by the time I return to the bikes where Dallas sits atop his, his legs crossed over the handlebars, scrolling through his phone.

“Well, that went well,” he says, flipping his legs over the sides, and I can’t tell if he’s serious or if that was sarcasm.

I roll my eyes before putting my gear back on and hitting the road again.

Dallas walks slowly through the parking lot toward the front door of Landry’s. He fidgets with his motorcycle key before pausing in front of the door. “So, are you going to tell her everything?”

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