What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4) Page 77

by Selena Kitt


  Yeah, ‘um’ is so interesting and intelligent!

  ‘I don’t want to talk about the trial, Ben. I want to talk about us.’ She bites her lip. It seems my mouth has completely forgotten how to work, because I just stare at her.

  She tilts her head towards the building. ‘Can we talk at your place?’

  ‘Er… yes. Of course.’ We walk side by side but with enough distance between us to avoid touching.

  She’s here. She wants to talk. Surely that must be a good sign?

  I squash the glimmer of hope back down. I can’t allow myself to get excited that she might want me back. Of course she doesn’t. Who would? She’s come to end it for good. Tell me never to contact her again. I’m scared this is the last time I’ll ever see her. Her eyes are red-rimmed and full of regret. Regret that she ever met me.

  I want to ask her if it’s good news, but at the same time I don’t want to know. Maybe it’s better not to know. Just hide in my world of denial. But hiding isn’t the answer to fix this. If I can fix this.

  I know that now. I’ve been trying to hide it all for too long, and it doesn’t work.

  ‘Do you want something to drink?’ I ask when I open the door to my flat. I stand back to let her go inside.

  ‘No.’ She walks down the narrow corridor into the kitchen, leans against the work top, and crosses her arms.

  I take a deep breath, shaking inside. Crossing her arms doesn’t seem like a good sign. It closed off, defensive. Which means she can’t have come here to say anything good.

  ‘You saw me at the Women’s Centre the night I tried to go to the group counselling session, didn’t you? You were there to teach a self-defence class, and you saw me come out of the building before the session had even started. You knew I couldn’t go through with it because you have a knack for reading people, an intuition.’

  My jaw drops open. I’m totally and utterly screwed. Whatever I was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. And any remote hope of thinking she was here to forgive me has disintegrated forever. Our first meeting in the hospital was built on a lie I told, and I’ve kept the truth from her ever since. Not to mention the fact it sounds like I stalked her. I’d followed her from the Women’s Centre and taken a job just to be close to her. How creepy and wrong is that?

  But I do tell the truth this time. I tell her because I can’t not tell her anymore. I’ve already lost the most important thing in the world to me. Have I really got anymore to lose? There’s a reason why I did those things, though. I just hope she understands that reason.

  ‘You’re right.’ I look up at the ceiling and rub my hands over the stubble on my face. I run them through my hair before they fall uselessly to my sides. ‘When I saw you come out of the centre that night, I recognized the haunted look in your eyes because that’s what Mia looked like. I could see you were desperate and there for the group counselling. You wanted help, but for whatever reason, you didn’t feel comfortable staying.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want you to reach the point where you did the same thing as Mia. All I knew when I saw you was that I had to try to help you.’

  ‘You saw my phone number on the car and wrote it on your hand?’

  ‘Yes. And then I was involved in the car accident, and they called you because they thought I knew you.’

  She nods, biting her lip again.

  I stand with my hands clenched, my shoulders tense. Every muscle in my body is taut with longing, desperately wanting to hold her.

  ‘Our whole relationship was a lie from the start,’ she whispers, her eyes shining with tears.

  My own tears burn my eyes. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you lied in the beginning so you could help me, Ben. And you lied about your past because you wanted to be there for me—to keep me safe and protect me like you couldn’t do with Mia. And then you lied because you didn’t want to lose me. Because that’s who you are. An amazingly caring, loving, compassionate man, and I don’t ever want to be without you.’

  It takes a few seconds before her words sink in. Then I’m crossing the room in two strides and kneeling in front of her. I slide my arms round her, fingers splaying on her waist. I press my forehead against her flat stomach. ‘So…do you…I mean…does this mean you forgive me?’

  She runs her hands through my hair, looking down at me on my knees. ‘I do forgive you. What happened was a tragedy, but you didn’t mean to kill him. It was one split second, and it could’ve happened to anyone. When you told me what really happened that night, I lost sight of the real you for a while. I was so confused and upset about everything, and I’m sorry. So, so, sorry. I should’ve supported you and been understanding, just like you’ve been with me ever since you first saw me.’ She stares intensely into my eyes. ‘I know you, Ben. Not just your history; I know the real you, and I love the hell out of you.’

  A guttural sob escapes from my chest, and I pull her down to the floor with me, holding her tight. Her legs wrap round my hips as I crash my lips to hers, our teeth colliding in the urgency. My tongue plunges fiercely into her mouth, lashing, teasing, taking back every bit of pain I’ve caused her. It’s not a gentle kiss like all the other times. It’s raw.

  Intense.

  Hungry.

  Consuming.

  A fiery show of longing filled with pent up passion and love that anchors us together. The desperate kiss of a man who lost the most important thing in the world and was lucky enough to find forgiveness.

  My mouth can’t let go of hers. I need her to survive.

  I want it to last forever, but neither of us can control ourselves any longer. One minute we’re dressed, the next our clothes are strewn in a tangled heap on the floor, breaking contact only to undress hastily. She straddles me, wrapping her arms around my back, her hair spilling over her shoulders like silk. I rock myself inside her, our hands all over each other.

  We’re joined in every single, beautiful way. Drowning in each other.

  I feel her orgasm spasming before mine hits. She claws my back, pushing me deeper, closer, drawing blood. Her lips vibrate against mine, muffling the words, but it’s my name she’s crying out.

  I can’t hold out much longer. I twine my hands in hers and lift my head back, staring into those huge green eyes as I come undone and splinter into a thousand blissful pieces. I pull her into my arms, and we lie on the floor facing each other, panting, a sheen of sweat covering us.

  ‘I love you, Grace. So much.’ I run my finger along her jaw.

  ‘I love you, too. I never thought it was possible, you know. After what happened, I thought I was unlovable.’

  I open my mouth to speak. She presses her hand over my lips to silence me. ‘Wait. Let me finish, because I have to say this.’ Resting her hand on my cheek, she says, ‘I know that’s not true now, and you taught me that. You taught me to believe in myself again. If you hadn’t come into my life, I’d still be that scarred wreck of a girl who was afraid of her own shadow. I’d still be afraid to face the demons and kick their arse. You’re the reason I am who I am now. You taught me to be a fighter. You taught me how to survive. You breathed life into me. And the thing is, you’re so busy hating yourself for that night, you can’t see what other people see in you. You think you’re unlovable, too, and you’re not. I forgive you for lying, but do you forgive yourself?’

  ‘I…’

  ‘You still blame yourself for that night, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. How could I not?’

  ‘But it’s not your fault. You taught me that, Ben. You made me realize what happened to me isn’t my fault. It’s not yours, either.’ Her voice is calm, soothing. ‘It was an accident. A tragic accident. And like you said to me, that night doesn’t define who you are. You’ve worked hard to turn your life around so you could help others. Your selflessness is inspirational to me. You were broken, too, but you didn’t give up the will to be strong and try. It’s time to let the guilt go and forgive yourself. You deserve that.’ She rests her palm over my hea
rt. ‘The real you is in here, and it’s in everything you do. That’s all that matters.’

  The absolute conviction in her words takes my breath away. I stare at her, blinking, trying to comprehend everything. Placing my hand over hers, I’m swallowed into her warm green eyes. All I can see there are love, pride, and admiration staring back at me, and something stirs and shifts deep inside.

  ‘You saved me, Ben, but I was blind to the fact you needed saving too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, because you’re worth the fight. You just have to realize that yourself.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper, pulling her tighter so everything fades around the edges, until there’s just us.

  ‘You don’t need to thank me. I’m the luckiest girl alive to have you in my life. I’m never going anywhere, and I’m going to spend every day proving to you just how amazing you really are.’

  The burden of my truth and the lies I’ve been carrying around all this time has been crushing me. My heart was heavy with secrets. Sharing it with her has made it a million times lighter. I don’t feel alone anymore. Grace is stitching me back together again, healing me, saving me, and giving me a second chance. I can’t believe she still loves me after everything she knows, and that’s the moment when it really hits me with stark clarity.

  If the most important woman in my life can accept me as I am and forgive me, then for the first time, I can finally begin to forgive myself.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Grace

  I sit outside the courtroom dressed in black trousers and a simple white shirt. One hand rests in my lap; Ben firmly holds the other. I jig my leg up and down, making the bench vibrate.

  Ben whispers in my ear, ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m nervous. My stomach’s churning, but I’m OK.’ I grip his hand tighter.

  ‘You’re so brave. I’m so proud of you.’ He squeezes my hand.

  When the bailiff calls my name, I look at Ben, eyes widening. ‘This is it.’

  ‘Yes.’ He stands and releases my hand. ‘You don’t have to look at him in there. I’ll be sitting in the gallery at the back. But I’ll sit to the side, out of his sightline, so you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. Just look at me, OK?’

  I nod.

  ‘Try and pretend this is happening to someone else, a close friend, and you’re just liaising with the court on their behalf. You’re their representative, their advocate. It will make it easier.’

  I try to imagine that in my head as I follow the bailiff into the courtroom, squaring my shoulders. Ben’s taught me to be a fighter, and that’s exactly what I’m going to be.

  The bailiff leads me to the witness box and asks me to either swear on the Bible or affirm what I say will be the truth. My voice wobbles as I affirm to the whole courtroom. The hair on my neck stands on end, and my skin turns cold and clammy.

  I dare to look up then. Ben’s sitting in the gallery at the end of a row so I can fix my eyes on him and not Theo. He gives me an encouraging smile.

  The prosecution barrister stands and walks to the front of his table. ‘Can you state your full name for the court, please?’

  I clear my throat. ‘Grace Elliot.’

  ‘Do you recognise the defendant, Miss Elliot?’

  I keep my eyes on the prosecutor and don’t allow them to stray to Theo. Being here is harder than I could have even imagined. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you please explain to the court the nature of your relationship?’

  ‘He was my boyfriend for two years.’ I fight to keep the tremor out of my voice.

  ‘And your relationship was of a sexual nature?’

  We’ve already gone over these questions before the hearing, so I know what he’s going to ask. I just don’t know what Theo’s mum and her male co-counsel are going to do, but whatever it is, it won’t be pretty. They’re going to try to drag me down. Bring Ben’s past into this when it’s got nothing to do with Theo, and my nerves are fraying. Hanging on by a thin, tight line.

  ‘Yes,’ I croak.

  Theo’s barrister rises at the table and says, ‘Could you ask the witness to speak more clearly, your honour? I’m having trouble hearing.’

  The judge looks down at me from the bench. ‘Could you please try to speak a little louder?’

  ‘Yes.’ My voice cracks again, so I take a sip of water and repeat myself. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Before the night of April second, was the defendant ever violent towards you?’ the prosecutor continues.

  ‘He was possessive and made nasty comments sometimes. He was selfish, immature, and arrogant, but he was never violent. That’s why it came as such a shock to me. I think it’s one of the reasons I froze and couldn’t move.’

  ‘Can you describe the events that happened on the night in question, please?’ the prosecutor asks.

  I concentrate on the prosecution barrister who’s on my side. I drown out everyone else from my peripheral vision and stare at his face. He wants what I want—a conviction.

  ‘Take your time, Miss Elliot,’ he says.

  I take a deep breath and tell the same story I told Ben and the police. I say what happened clearly and concisely to a packed, silent courtroom, the words echoing in my ears. And it feels as if someone else is telling it. As if it happened to another woman, not me. As if I’ve risen above my body and I’m staring down at myself from a great height, watching this woman speaking who’s not really me. I’m pretending this happened to my best friend and I’m telling the story on their behalf.

  Ben’s right. It does make it easier, and maybe it’s a kind of self-preservation tool. A way to do what I need to do so I can finally let go of this last part that’s hanging on, trying to claw at my soul.

  Although I’ve only been talking a little while, my mouth is as dry and rough as sandpaper. I take another sip of water from a glass on top of the witness box. Swallow slowly.

  ‘So, the defendant raped you?’ the prosecutor repeats, trying to let it sink in with the jury.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you say you froze with fear after he hit you. You went into shock. You didn’t shout or scream, and you didn’t fight him off or move because you were terrified, is this correct?’ the prosecutor asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, you were literally frozen with shock and fear?’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour!’ Theo’s barrister interjects. ‘Asked and answered already.’

  ‘I’ll allow the prosecution a little leeway here,’ the judge says, and looks back at me. ‘Answer the question, please.’

  ‘Yes, I was frozen with shock and fear.’

  ‘And why do you think you froze and couldn’t fight back?’

  My gaze meets Ben’s across the courtroom. I straighten my back and keep my eyes on him. ‘At first I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t fight back. I thought subconsciously I must’ve asked for it or wanted it to happen. I know that’s not true now. It was self-preservation. I’ve since learnt that the body has a natural freezing behavior when it thinks it’s in danger, and that’s what happened to me. Even though I didn’t want it to happen, I couldn’t say no because my throat had closed so much with fear I couldn’t speak. Tears were rolling down my face. I wasn’t participating in the act. That choice was taken away from me, and I didn’t consent to it.’

  He turns to Theo. ‘Tears were rolling down your face, and you weren’t participating. You were frozen with fear. I don’t know about everyone else in the courtroom, but that would be a clear indication to any reasonable person that consent wasn’t granted.’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour!’ Theo’s barrister rises from his chair.

  ‘Overruled,’ the judge barks at him and looks at the prosecutor. ‘Carry on.’

  Theo’s barrister huffs and sits. Elaine whispers something to him, but I can only see out of the corner of my eye because I don’t want to catch Theo’s gaze.

  ‘What happened next?’ the prosecutor asks.

/>   ‘He…he passed out. Drunk. I got dressed and left.’ My skin itches, like it’s too tight. I fight the urge to scratch it.

  ‘And you didn’t report the rape until a year and a half later. Can you tell the court why, please?’

  ‘Because at first, I wanted to forget about it. I didn’t think my brain could handle dealing with it, so I just tried my hardest not to think about it. I went on some kind of autopilot survival mode, attempting to block it out, but it didn’t work. I had nightmares; I lost weight. I was depressed. I couldn’t forget about something so horrific.’ I look at Ben, his warm gaze is sending me strength. ‘So I got some counselling, which started the healing process and gave me my confidence back.’ I pause for another sip of water. ‘At that time I was feeling a lot stronger, and then Rebecca came to see me. She told me a very similar story about what Theo had done to her.’

  ‘Objection! Hearsay!’ Theo’s barrister interjects.

  ‘Overruled,’ the judge says. ‘The witness is testifying as to the events, not hearsay. Go ahead, Miss Elliott.’

  ‘I knew then I couldn’t let Theo do it to anyone else. I had to finally tell what happened to me, too.’ I turn my gaze to Theo then. Stare him straight in the face. He can’t hurt me now, even if he thinks he can, and I’m going to prove it to myself. Something I know well has replaced his arrogant smirk. Fear. And although I’m so nervous in that courtroom, I feel so strong and brave. I can finally see Theo for everything he is: weak, pathetic, a coward, a bully. It spurs me on.

  Face Everything and Rise.

  ‘It was time to be a survivor and not just a helpless victim anymore,’ I say.

  Theo’s cheeks flush crimson, and he glances down at the floor. The bastard can’t even look me in the eyes.

  At that moment, I know I’ve won. Even if he wins the court case, I’ve beaten him. I’ve taken control of my life, and nothing, no one, will ever put me back down there again.

 

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