Page 29 of Love Rewritten

“He did. I’m so proud of you. That’s a big accomplishment. When did you say the ceremony was?”

“Just under a week out.”

“Well, I wish you all the luck,” Trisha says, taking another bite.

I nod my appreciation, practically scarfing down my food so I don’t have to talk as much. The rest of dinner runs by quickly, and as we are about to leave, Trisha stops me at the door. Dallas pauses on the sidewalk out front. “Abby, I want to check in with you. See how you’ve been feeling. I didn’t want to bring it up at dinner. I wanted to keep that a peaceful place. But I couldn’t let you leave without asking.”

There it is. “I, uh, I’m doing okay. Been keeping myself busy, so that’s helped.”

“Good. Would you be up for meeting me sometime this week? I’ve got more details to share with you.”

“Of course.”

We finish saying our goodbyes, and I’m thankful for the bike ride home to keep my mind from racing with all the ideas she might have to share with me at our next meeting.

We chose to meet the day after Dallas’s next game. They won, making for an exciting day and night. But now, all that excitement has been pushed to the sidelines. Trisha sits to my left, Dallas to my right, and the large binder she slid in front of me is daunting.

“So, the protective order is in effect for the duration of the case. We will file for a permanent one at the end. How does that sit with you?” She leans forward, resting her elbows on the conference room table.

“I feel a little better about it, but I don’t know that a piece of paper is going to keep Sam away from me.” I sit on my hands to still them.

“Like I said last time, Dallas is here for you. You can call the police as often as you need to. You still have Officer Olivia Putnam’s number, right? She’s always available for you to call as well. Plus, no one can find Sam right now. So, he likely skipped town. He’s been served all the appropriate paperwork, so if he doesn’t show up to court on the scheduled dates, we win automatically.”

“Remind me again when the first court date is?”

“In two weeks. It’s just the initial meeting so that everyone can get on the same page about things, and we can set the actual court date for the trial.”

I nod, taking the information in stride. Dallas leans forward, too, watching me. “Okay,” is all I can come up with. I don’t know what else to say about most of this. It has eased my mind a little knowing someone else is taking care of all this for me. If I were the one trying to organize everything, I think I would be in over my head.

And then it dawns on me. “I’m still not required to be there, right? That hasn’t changed?”

She tips her head to the side and says, “Not legally. Only if you want to be. But being there might help you process everything.” She pauses, closes the binder, and settles her hands in her lap. “Have you thought about therapy? I think it would be a good idea to talk to someone about all of this.”

I shake my head. No. Not therapy. Not right now. My head is too messy for me to talk to yet another person about this shit show. Trisha doesn’t press either subject further. If Sam’s not there, sure, I could probably go into the courtroom. If he is, I don’t think I could handle seeing him again. Flashes of the last time I saw him flood my memory, and I blink them away while she keeps talking.

There’s more paperwork and legal mumbo jumbo before we head home, and I try to mentally prepare for the coming court date. It’s after the LAO awards ceremony so that’ll be a good way to relax before the big day.

Big day.More like shitty day.

After dinner and some downtime, Dallas and I head to bed. I’m fully ready for sleep to take me right here, right now, but it seems Dallas has other ideas tonight.

“I want to play a game. Get your mind off things,” he says, smirking at me from where he tosses his clothes in the hamper.

“A game?” I ask unamused as I pull the covers up to my chin.

“A game. An easy one. And we don’t even have to get out of bed for it.” He climbs in next to me and props himself up on an elbow to face me. My cheeks heat a moment before he explains. “Truth or drink. But no drinking this time.”

I narrow my eyes. “That’s not really a game then.”

“Sure, it is. I’ll get to watch you squirm when you have to answer my questions.”

I give a large nod, my brows raising with the movement. “Ah, so it’s a game for you. I see.” I can’t help but smile. “So, what exactly do I get out of it, then?”

“You’ll get to ask questions, too. Promise.”

I sit up and tuck my feet under me. “Fine. I start though.” A wide grin spreads across his face, and he mimics my position. I take a moment to think about which question to start with. “Complete honesty?”

“One-hundred percent.”

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