Page 142 of False Start
Kyle’s season had ended earlier than we’d wanted. Unfortunately, Seattle didn’t make it to the playoffs. And as much as I hated that for him and for the team, I was selfishly thankful that he could be here for this, that he didn’t have to rush off to the stadium for practice or fly away for a game.
I ran my steady, non-shaking hands over my round belly. Our daughter was the size of a head of lettuce now, growing stronger every week. Sebastian was having the hardest time waiting out of all of us. He couldn’t bear another day without meeting his baby sister.
I closed my eyes and reached for her in that moment. I asked her to give me strength and poise and confidence. I asked her to help me finally bring this family peace.
“Your Honor,” I began, pleased to hear my voice was as even and serene as I felt inside. “I want to thank you for allowing me to address you with this personal statement. I realize this is not traditional, but I hope you can understand that — as a woman who has been silent for many years — I found it of the utmost importance to stand before you today and give the final word on my account.”
Judge Hall, an old, bald gentleman with warm brown skin, a black beard tinted with spots of white, and dark eyes that were somehow kind and severe at the same time, nodded in way of acknowledgement but did not give any other emotion away.
I’d watched him listen intently to Marshall the day before, and I hadn’t been able to read him then, either. This man had heard both of our stories. He’d interviewed my son. Could he see the truth, or was he blinded by Marshall’s squeaky-clean professional record and reputation the way so many others were?
“On my phone, there are hundreds and hundreds of photographs of my son,” I said, a genuine smile finding my lips. “There are pictures of him wrapped as a newborn in my arms as I nursed him while running on little to no sleep. There are videos of him using the couch to help himself stand, to navigate walking on his tiny legs for the first time. There are photos of his first day of daycare, his first day of pre-school, his first day of kindergarten, his first lost tooth.”
I swallowed, my smile slipping.
“In-between those beautiful memories are photos with a more haunting story to tell. Pictures of bruises on my arms, of the skin above my eye split and angry and bleeding, of me on my bathroom floor sobbing and rocking in pain from being kicked in the stomach — an injury no one could see, but that I felt for weeks.”
I didn’t have to turn around to know that Kyle was likely squeezing my mother’s hand off as he listened to this, that my mother was likely straining to holdbothmen at her sides back from tackling the man I was accusing of doing these things to me.
I also thought I heard a scuffle of some sort from where Marshall sat with his attorneys, like he was ready to defend himself, and they had to remind him to be quiet.
“Now, I know what you must be thinking,” I added quickly. “Why didn’t I bring these photos to the police? Why didn’t I report my husband, who then became my ex-husband? Why did I sit in silence for so long?
“It may seem stupid to you. It may seem calculative. I’m sure there are many names one might think to call me — weak, liar, bitter, scorned. But the truth, Your Honor, is that as much as it pains me to admit it… I was just scared.”
I looked down at the worn carpet floor for only a moment before I lifted my chin again, willing myself not to cry as I met the judge’s gaze.
“I was scared of what would happen to me if I told anyone. I was afraid of not being believed. I was afraid of being punished even worse for attempting to show my abuse. And most of all, I was terrified of losing my son, mylife.”
I swallowed.
“There are some things you truly cannot understand until you are experiencing them, storms that you’ll never fully feel until you are being wind-whipped and pelted with rain and holding onto whatever grounding force you can find with dear life. There were times I thought about speaking up, but every time that thought passed, my ex-husband would remind me in the very convincing way he always did that I would be fighting an uphill battle, that no one would believe that a kind, caring veterinarian would ever do such a thing.
“And it may seem silly to someone like you, Your Honor, who has likely never doubted himself a day in his life. Who has had faith in his strength and standing and position for many decades. But for a single mother without a steady job, reputable education, or anyone other than her own parents to back her — let me tell you, the story my ex-husband painted was a very believable one. And it was one I couldn’t risk.”
I heard my mom sniffle from the bench behind me, but I kept my gaze focused, the words coming easier now.
“For many years, I felt that I could handle this. I truly felt I was strong enough to deal with the hits, the bruises, the abuse.”
“This is bullshit!”
Every head snapped to Marshall, to where his attorney was whisper-shouting for him to be quiet and sit down.
“Mr. Hearst, I will have order in this courtroom,” Judge Hall said sternly. “This will be your only warning.”
He let that sink in for a long moment before he nodded for me to continue.
I cleared my throat. “I felt this way because, as I’m sure you can imagine, I will doanythingfor my son. He loves his father. And I believed that, though I suffered at Marshall’s hands, Sebastian never would.” I paused. “Until recently.”
I heard scuffling from my left, no doubt Marshall trying to stand and argue his case again before I finished speaking. I assumed his lawyers settled him, though. The judge arched a brow in that direction before slowly dragging his gaze back to me.
“Your Honor, my son has become more and more reluctant to visit his father in the last several months. As he grows older, he can sense things he couldn’t as a young child. He has seen the marks left on me. He notices the way I stiffen when I have to meet with his father.”
“It’s because this bitch brainwashes him!” Marshall cried out, much to the dismay of his legal team. “And you act so innocent. I only put you in your place when you need it.”
“Mr. Hearst, that isenough,” Judge Hall said, glaring down at my ex-husband. “If I hear one more peep from you, I’ll have you thrown out of my courtroom.”
I didn’t know how Kyle was still sitting after that remark. Again, I wondered if my mom was using all her strength to keep him and my father seated.
