Drowning: An Angsty Standalone

by Marni Mann

  “The judge will ask you to make a statement. That’ll be your chance to speak to the jury and tell them your thoughts in your own words. Up until today, your voice has been on paper.”

  “And Brooks will be in the room for all of this?”

  “Yes.”

  To her, it’s routine. To me, it’s facing the devil and being expected to stand up to him. I don’t know if I can do it.

  “Andi, I want you to let it all out. Hold nothing back.”

  “Hold nothing back.” I repeat her words over and over until I’m sitting on the stand with all eyes on me, including his.

  At first, I stumble through Camille’s simple questions, but after I stop focusing on the eyes of the jury and whether they’re judging me or not, the dam opens, and years of pain pour out of me. I don’t stumble again, and I don’t regret a single word that comes out of my mouth.

  This is my truth.

  It’s ugly.

  It’s unfair.

  But it’s my story.

  Camille was right; I would have regretted holding back. Brooks doesn’t need protecting. He never deserved my silence, and when I overlooked his behavior, I only encouraged him, letting him think it was okay to act that way. But it’s not okay. It never will be okay for a man to hit a woman.

  I end up incriminating Brooks so terribly, his lawyer has no choice but to sit down and accept the cold hard truth. His client is a fucking bastard.

  My determination is rewarded when the judge appears just as appalled. Even though I feel like a guilty verdict is the only way the jury can go, I still have no idea what kind of sentence Brooks is going to get. All I know is, he won’t lay a finger on anyone. If he does, he’ll get his ass beat in return.

  He won’t get to wake up and drink his expensive coffee while reading the newspaper. His fancy business lunches will turn into mystery meat with a side of goopy mashed potatoes. And, most importantly, he won’t be anywhere near me.

  “Andi!” he yells as his fist slams onto the top of the desk he’s seated behind.

  The guards are on him so fast, he’s kicking his legs, trying to stand his ground, but failing miserably. Brooks is strong, but he’s no match for professionals.

  “Don’t let them do this, baby,” he pleads as they practically drag him from the courtroom. He knows how bad I made him look. He can tell he has no chance of coming out of this an innocent man.

  Camille rests her hand on mine and lets me watch the second train wreck I’ve survived completely fall off the tracks.

  “How did I never see that man for what he was until it was too late?”

  Camille runs her hand up and down my back. “You got out; that’s all that matters. Not everyone does.”

  She’s right; battle scars and all, I’m one of the lucky ones. It’s sobering.

  Today was hard—harder than I ever imagined.

  I did the right thing, I remind myself.

  But I’m not a vindictive person.

  Watching Brooks self-destruct hurts. How I can look at a monster and still feel that, I have no idea. Maybe he messed me up more than I thought, but I remember our first date and the first time he made me feel responsible for his happiness. I was convinced there was no greater feeling in the world. Proud to have his hand on the small of my back, I let him lead me wherever he wanted to go. Because, as long as I had him next to me, I was invincible.

  I’ll miss that Brooks—always.

  The Brooks who made me his punching bag, I hope he rots in hell. He let me down. He took away my superpowers, and for that, I can never forgive him.

  “Are you okay?” Camille asks as we walk down the courthouse stairs with the wind whipping around us.

  “I will be.”

  I will.

  Andi

  The flight out of Miami is easier than it was coming in, mostly because Camille is by my side and Brooks is locked up. The jury came back with a guilty verdict in all of two hours.

  Even though it didn’t take long, my nerves were shot. I was glad they didn’t make me wait an entire day for justice to be served. Still, I can hardly believe it’s over.

  I’m grateful to the jury for hearing me.

  I’m blessed that my best friend was leading the case, that she’s licensed to practice in both states because her firm has an office in Miami.

  And most importantly, I’m thankful that I’m finally free.

  As soon as we land at LaGuardia, we take a cab to Camille’s condo. I can tell she’s happy to be home and I want to give her a little space to unwind after the stress of the trial.

  I slip my shoes on and stop at the little café around the corner. Before I try to fall asleep tonight, there’s one more thing I need to do.

  It’s already dark out, and there’s a chance he’s not even there, but I walk the couple of blocks anyway, just in case he is.

  Sirens wail, and taxis honk impatiently at people crossing the street at the intersection. I almost forgot what city-living was like. I’ve gotten so used to the peace and quiet in the mountains, I wonder why I ever thought all this noise was appealing.

  But, when I see him hovering in the corner against the brick, I remember how important my ties to this city really are. He doesn’t see me right away.

  “Hey, Charlie.”

  At first, he looks like he’s seen a ghost, and then the smile that covers his face instantly warms my heart.

  “My sweet Andi,” he says. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Camille’s been taking good care of you, right?”

  He nods. “She has. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “What’s done is done.” I hand him a paper bag with a sandwich and muffin and a hot cup of coffee, extra sweet, just the way he likes it.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Because I’ve missed you, too.” It’s getting too cold for him to sit out here this late, so I help with his bags as he walks toward the shelter where he usually sleeps.

  “How long are you here?”

  “Until tomorrow night. I’m having dinner at the restaurant right around the corner. After that, I’ll be on a plane back to Colorado.”

  “Good. You deserve to celebrate. How are you holding up?” he asks.

  I wonder how he knows. Then, I remember all the newspapers he was holding on to the last time I was here. He reads them religiously, and because I’m linked with Adrian, I still get my own fair share of media attention—like it or not.

  “It was hard, Charlie. I was afraid I would freeze and everything I rehearsed would fly out the window. But the jury heard me.”

  “Like I’ve always told you, Andi. All you have to do is tell your story, and they’ll listen. Speak from the heart.”

  “On the stand, I heard your voice in the back of my mind, reminding me how strong I am. Without you, Charlie, I don’t think I could have done it.”

  With tears in his eyes, he shakes his head. “You don’t need me. You’re stronger than I’ve ever been.”

  As usual, Charlie doesn’t give himself enough credit. But he’s still everything I need him to be. He listens to my fears and offers advice, and when we’re both standing in front of the shelter, he says the most important things he ever could—with his eyes. That I’m worthy. That I’m a fighter. And that I can move on from this.

  Because of him, I walk away with confidence. I even think I might be able to get some sleep.

  Soon, I’ll be back with the man I love. And soon can’t come fast enough. I’m finally ready to close this chapter of my life. I’m ready to move on with Adrian and not have ties to another man. A man who almost stole Adrian’s future right out from under him.

  The following day, I spend as much time as I can at all of my favorite places in the city. I eat too much junk food. I spend too much money on things I probably don’t need, praying they’ll fit in my luggage. And then when the sun sets and the stars light up the sky, I have dinner with Camille.

  A meal doesn’t come close to thanking her for what she�
�s done for me, but we enjoy the time together, knowing it’ll be longer than I’d like before I can come back.

  “Adrian must be ready to have you home.”

  “Home,” I whisper. “I feel like I have a couple of those now.”

  “Do you regret not living here?”

  I think about it for a minute, realizing I was only bitter about leaving New York because I was forced. Now that I can come back a couple times a year, it isn’t so bad.

  “Leaving is hard because there’s nothing like New York. But going home to Adrian feels pretty incredible, too.”

  She plays with the lettuce on her plate, moving it around with her fork. “I’m so happy for you, Andi. Nobody deserves this more than you do.”

  “I dunno,” I tell her. “I think you deserve just as much, if not more.”

  “Someday,” she says. “When the time’s right, I’ll find someone.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Though there’s always Russell,” I tease.

  “Don’t you even go there.”

  “Okay, okay. But all those conversations you had…”

  “Were about you and Adrian,” she quickly reminds me.

  “Whatever you say. I love you both for all you’ve done for us.”

  We finish our meals and enjoy a couple glasses of wine, reflecting on some of our best times together. I’m stuffed, but dessert is forced onto my plate and I eat it without shame.

  When we couldn’t possibly eat another thing, Camille signals for the check. “You ready to go home and see that hunk of a man?”

  “I’m ready,” I tell her. God, am I ready.

  We’re laughing as we walk out of the restaurant, not paying attention to anything around us.

  I feel a cold hand on mine and I stop. “Charlie? What are you doing here?”

  He drops my hand and plays with the cuff of his oversize sweater, like he’s not sure if it’s okay for him to be standing outside the restaurant. “You weren’t yourself last night. I needed to make sure you were okay. And, I wanted to see you one more time before you flew away.”

  Maybe it’s the weight of the trial. Maybe it’s just sweet relief. But I wrap my arms around Charlie’s neck, and I hold on with everything I have. At first, he’s so surprised, he stumbles. As soon as he’s steady, he wraps his arms around me, too.

  “Thank you,” I whisper in his ear.

  “Thank you,” he says in return. “For seeing the man beneath the sweater.”

  Tears prick my eyes, and my throat burns so badly, I have to force myself to swallow. When I pull away from Charlie, I’m thankful. Just thankful.

  A cab pulls up, and like a true gentleman, Charlie wastes no time in opening the door for us. “Hurry inside; you’ll catch a cold in this weather.”

  “You first, Charlie,” I tell him.

  His mouth opens and then quickly closes. He stares at the backseat of the cab and then back at me. “Thank you for the kindness, but I’ll be walking back. The walking does me good, helps clear my head after a long day.”

  It’s not that far to the shelter, but it’s cold, and there’s no way I’m getting in a warm car and letting him walk

  “Are you in or out?” the impatient driver asks as he glares at me from the front seat.

  The stress of the last couple days gangs up on me, and I snap. In a tone I never use, I tell him, “I’ll pay you double if you turn around and shut up.”

  Camille snorts as she laughs so hard. Charlie looks a little proud.

  I just shrug my shoulders. “What? I’m tired of people telling me what to do.”

  Still laughing, Camille directs Charlie toward the cab. “After you, Charlie,” she encourages the same way I did. She’s not going to let this cab move an inch unless he’s inside with us.

  Again, Charlie looks torn between accepting and walking away. I know he doesn’t have the money to pay, but I’m not expecting him to.

  I take his hands and hold them tightly. “Charlie, one day not too long ago, you told me about saving graces. When I was down, you lifted me up. When I was broken, you put me back together. You, Charlie, are my saving grace. Please, let me do this for you. I have so much to thank you for.”

  His eyes are glassy when he nods, and then he carefully slides across the backseat of the cab. From the way he checks out every inch of the upholstery, even the credit card machine, I can tell it’s been a while since he’s been in a taxi.

  I climb in the middle seat next to him, and Camille sits on the other side of me. Wedged between two of my very favorite people, I realize how lucky I am to be sitting here at all. Brooks could have ended my life so many times, but I’ve been guarded by angels.

  Resting my head on Charlie’s shoulder, I close my eyes and think about how good it will feel to wake up tomorrow and not have to worry about Brooks.

  This is heaven.

  Adrian

  Andi has spent the last four days in New York. This has been her third trip back east since she moved to Colorado. During this visit, she met with her publisher to work out the final terms of her contract, and she spent her evenings with Camille. Now that we’re living on the West Coast and Andi travels with me, they don’t get to see each other as often as they want. Whenever Andi leaves for LaGuardia, I get pissed off texts from Camille, telling me how much she hates where we live and how I need to have the Training Center moved out east. But today, her text is full of hearts and celebration emojis.

  Camille is as anxious as I am for Andi to return. That’s because Camille knows what I have planned.

  Andi’s driver texted me a few minutes ago to let me know they’re on their way to our house. With only a few things left to do, I place the blanket on the floor right in front of the fireplace. It’s Andi’s favorite spot in our home. She loves the smell of the burning wood and the view of the mountains. It’s a room where we don’t bring in our cell phones or turn on the TV. There’s no one to ask us questions, no one to demand our attention. It’s just us and our noise and our questions.

  I open a bottle of wine, fill two glasses, and stick them on the blanket. I make sure the lights are dimmed to the right level and just enough candles are lit. There’s cheese and olives and sliced prosciutto on the table in case she gets hungry. And, later tonight, I’ll fill the bath and add in some bubbles, and then I’ll wash her body as it lays over mine.

  “I’m home!” Andi yells from the back door as she makes her way toward the center of the house.

  Home is a word I never get tired of hearing her say.

  “Hey, baby.” I meet her in the entryway, blocking her view of the living room. I slip her bag off her shoulder, unwrap her scarf, and take off her jacket. I drop it all on the floor and cup her face to kiss her. “I missed you.”

  Her arms wrap around my waist. “I missed you more.”

  Finally pulling my mouth off hers, I ask, “Are you hungry?”

  “They fed me on the plane.”

  “How about some wine?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  Taking her by the hand, I lead her over to the blanket.

  “This is a cute little surprise.” She presses her lips against mine and takes a seat in the middle of the spread.

  I give her a glass and move down by her feet. As much as I love the knee-high boots and the way they look on her legs, they need to go. I unzip them and warm her toes in my hands.

  “That feels amazing,” she moans.

  I push into her arches and rub under her toes and around her heels.

  Her eyes close, and she stretches an arm behind her to hold her weight. “Oh my God, Adrian. You’re not allowed to ever stop doing that.”

  I smile at the noises she makes and at the expression that fills her face. It sounds just like when my mouth is on her pussy. In less than an hour, it will be, and I’ll be making her moan even louder.

  “I’ve been thinking about something,” I say. I rub harder, causing her eyes to open. “I’d like to run it by you.”

  She t
akes a sip of her wine and rests the glass beside her. “Okay.”

  I slide up her body and kneel between her spread legs, reaching behind her to remove the two boxes I have hidden between the couch cushions. One box is black. The other is red.

  Andi’s eyes shift between them. A look of shock crosses her face. “These are what you have to run by me, Adrian?”

  I stick out my left hand that holds the red box. “Open this one first.”

  She carefully lifts the top, revealing a smaller matching velvet box that’s inside. Her cheeks turn almost the same color as the velvet, her eyes getting a little watery. When she opens the lid, she sees the key inside and looks up at me. “I already have a key to the house.”

  “It’s not to this house. It’s to our other house.”

  “Our other house?”

  I rub my hands over her knees and carefully watch her eyes. “The one Camille took you to yesterday in SoHo.”

  “The one Camille…” Her voice trails off as she thinks about what I said. “But that’s Camille’s new condo that she’s moving into. She took me there, so I could see it.”

  “She brought you there to make sure you loved it. When she told me that you did, I bought it. For us.”

  Her brows rise. “We’re moving to New York? But the Olympic Training Center is here and all your teammates and coaches. You can’t leave them, Adrian.”

  She’s right; I can’t leave because I train here. But I also don’t want to leave my teammates and coaches. Once I was released from prison, my relationship with them strengthened again. They apologized for the things they said, for the way they treated me, for not taking my side. I accepted their apology.

  I can’t change what happened, and I can’t take away all the hurt it caused. But had none of it happened, had Ravi not fucked me over, I wouldn’t have met Andi. Having her in my life makes it all worth it.

  “Not full-time,” I say, “but we’ll be there a lot more than we are now.”

  “Why? I mean, don’t get me wrong; I couldn’t be happier, but what made you come to this decision?”