Page 87 of Saving Barrette

My eyes follow Crew’s tiny hand pressed to the glass of the suite we’re in. Sure enough, the Arizona Cardinals are on the field and more importantly, my husband. It’s different watching him play in the NFL. We didn’t think he’d be a starter his first year on the team, but he beat out their current quarterback for the position in training camp and earned himself a spot. But the NFL compared to college is tougher in every way. His job depends on him giving 100 percent of himself to it and I have to be satisfied with that.

While it was definitely an adjustment, I’ve learned that the time he does give me is so worth it. Together, we’ve created an amazing life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The game starts up and I spend most of it catching up with Joey. That’s when we land on the topic of Roman. I haven’t forgotten about him or the way it all ended.

“Terrell said you and Asa went to his grave,” Joey says, watching my reaction to it.

A punch of emotion hits my chest. Not because Roman died, but because Asa and I chose to say goodbye to him. At one time, he was our friend and there were some things I needed to say to him that I never would have in person while he was alive.

“We did,” I whisper, rubbing Crew’s back as he sleeps with his head on my extremely pregnant belly. “I think I cried the entire time. Not because I was sad, but because it still didn’t feel like justice. I felt like he got the easy way out.”

Roman died six months ago in a car accident in LA where he was living. His blood alcohol content was .60. I have no idea how he managed to get in a car, let alone drive it. The police report said he had cocaine in his system too.

When I heard the news from Remy, I was sad for her that her brother died. I hadn’t spoken to her in over a year and to get that news, it wasn’t easy. And then I thought about Roman, and if he ever felt guilty about what he’d done to me, and others, because there were others. Did he have remorse? Did he eventually regret it? Everything had always been handed to Roman and when I said no, he couldn’t take it.

Asa spent most of the time at his grave cussing him out and telling him he deserved what he had coming. And I guess in some ways, I felt that way too. But, as I’ve learned over the years, change is inevitable, growth is intentional, and I’m not the same person I was the day that trial ended. I’m a mother now and we have a family. I have a lot to be thankful for, and just because my rapist got off easy, it doesn’t have anything to do with my personal growth. Clarity is power, and I finally opened my heart enough to let love in. That right there was enough to keep me from breaking down completely.

As I stared at his headstone and his name engraved in it, part of me was thankful for the way it happened. Was it morbid for me to think that way? I absolutely love who I am and who I’ve become. I had scars on my body, but they told the story of my bravery.

I told Asa that and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind. At first, he was pissed at me, and then when he calmed down, he understood what I was saying.

He pressed his lips to my temple and whispered, “You are not what happened to you and I never want you to believe that.”

I reached for his hand and smiled. “But in some ways, I am, and I have you to thank for pulling me through it.”

We left the cemetery that day, and I can honestly say, I don’t think of Roman anymore. If I do, it’s a fleeting moment and I redirect my thoughts to what’s important. Surviving.

Joey reaches for my hand when she sees I’m crying. I brush the tears away. “I’m not crying because he died.”

She squeezes my hand. “I know, girl.”

“Joey, can I ask you something?”

She nods, her expression one of amusement. “Is it at about…” She pauses and smiles at Crew. “…oral again?”

I snort. “No. It’s not.”

Her eyes soften and I know I still have that friend. The one I can count on to get me through anything, even if she lives two thousand miles away. I fidget with the onesie in my hand. “Do you remember when Maggie from our support group said it’s my book and part of my journey. It’s not his, it’s mine?”

Joey nods. “Yeah, why?”

“I don’t think it’s my book. I think it’s ours. Everyone’s. Mine. Yours. Asa’s. Terrell’s. Even Roman’s. We’re all in it and we each have our own chapter written in it. I think that’s why I went to his grave. I had to finish that chapter and the only way for me to do that was to bring closure to it and write his ending.”

She starts crying. I’ve never known Joey to be a crier. Ever. But right here in the middle of that suite while holding my son, she bursts into tears. She waves her hand around when I try to comfort her. “I hate being pregnant. I’m emotional now.”

Crew holds Joey’s face in his hands and then kisses her nose. “No crying.”

He can be a total turd most days but this boy of mine, he has his own chapter too. The one that’s still being written and is full of life, love, footballs he sleeps with, Goldfish crackers, dirty hands, and orneriness most days, but he ties Asa and me together, completely.

The fourth quarter of the game is a nail-biter. I don’t sit still the entire time and neither does Joey. We scream, laugh, and pray for our husbands. The game ends with the Cardinals winning over the Steelers 14-7. Both teams fought incredibly hard, and it was literally down to the last minute of the game when the Asa threw a fifty-six-yard touchdown to win the game.

Joey and I make our way down to where the locker rooms are to wait for the boys. “I know where the rest of the night is going. Asa is going to brag and Terrell is gonna be a grump.”

“You never know.” I fight to adjust my hold on Crew. It’s around eight at night and he’s out like a light again. Only trying to carry a sleeping two-year-old with a big belly in the way isn’t easy. I stop many times and hold my stomach from cramping.

“Here, hand him to me. I need to get used to this anyways. I plan on having an entire football team of kids.”

I laugh and give Crew to her, my arms shaking in the process. “Talk to me after you give birth.”

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