The Fear of Letting Go

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The Fear of Letting Go Page 23

by Sarra Cannon


  With Leigh Anne scheduled third in line to give her testimony, I begin my drive on Wednesday afternoon, hoping they won't get to her testimony until at least Thursday. There are tears in my eyes as I drive away from Fairhope. My first time leaving the state I was born in, but I'm alone, with no one to notice or care. It's as if all joy has been sucked from life, leaving only a withered shell of who I thought I had become since moving to Fairhope.

  I arrive at the house Wednesday at nine in the evening.

  “It's just hard to believe it's really here,” Leigh Anne says. Everyone else has already had dinner, but Leigh Anne saved a plate for me. I eat as we sit at a table by the pool. “After all this preparation and media attention, it comes down to this.”

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” I ask. It's a stupid question, though. It would be impossible not to be nervous.

  “I'm terrified,” she says. “Sometimes having to go through the story over and over again is hard enough, but tomorrow, I have to talk about all those horrible things he did to me while he's sitting right there, denying it. I'm afraid it will feel like going through it all over again. I wish I didn't have to see him.”

  “How did things go today?”

  “I wasn't allowed to be in there while the other testimonies were being given, but everyone said it went exactly as expected,” she says. “The defense is trying to make a case that the five of us somehow planned our testimonies as a way to get media attention. It's ridiculous.”

  “It's all just part of the game,” I say. “But the important thing is that the truth is finally coming out. After this, everyone will know the truth about him.”

  “I hope so,” she says. She reaches over to take my hand. “Thank you for coming up here. It means a lot to me.”

  “I'm glad to be here,” I say. “I just wish you didn't have to go through this at all.”

  In the morning, we all gather in the courtroom and listen to Leigh Anne's testimony. I am struck by her strength, not sure I'd be able to do what she's doing if this had happened to me. All those eyes on her, judging every word. Every choice.

  And Burke Redfield in his expensive suit with his high-dollar attorneys, acting like this is all some big annoyance. Nothing to be taken seriously.

  The courtroom is completely silent as she tells her story of the night she was raped. Her voice only wavers once, and somehow, she manages to get through it.

  When she's finished and the cross examination is over, the judge calls for a break and all of us walk over to a little diner around the corner for lunch. I avoid Preston's eyes, and he seems to understand that this has nothing at all to do with us. We are all here for Leigh Anne, and nothing else matters.

  The next full day of testimony passes quickly, and when the weekend comes, we take a break from the stress and worry of the trial by binge watching TV shows on Netflix. I'm thankful Preston keeps his distance, but there's tension between us I can't deny.

  I wish I could lean on him. Be with him and talk to him about how hard this is on all of us, but there's no use opening that door now, when I'll be leaving for Nashville in a week.

  Leigh Anne is holding up amazingly well. She spends a lot of time alone in her room with Knox or snuggling with Penny's baby, but she never falls apart or loses her focus. I wish I could be more like her and find such strength in the hard times.

  The following Wednesday morning, the state rests their case and the jury goes into deliberations.

  In the house that evening, everything is quiet and tense, as if we're all holding our breath.

  Penny, Leigh Anne, and I are sitting in Penny's bedroom. We try not to talk about the trial, doing everything we can to keep Leigh Anne's mind off the wait. It could be a day or a week, and there's no way to know what the result will be.

  “You're really moving away from us?” Penny asks. She's nursing baby Rachel, and the beauty of it makes my heart hurt.

  I have never been one to think much about babies and having a family of my own, but my time with Preston awakened something inside me that I can't seem to shut off. What would it be like to love someone so much, you wanted to spend your whole life with them? What would it be like to someday hold a sweet newborn baby of my own?

  Would I be a good mother? Or would I repeat her mistakes?

  I swallow and look down at my hands. “It was the kind of offer I couldn't refuse,” I say. “It's not too far away, though. I'll come visit all the time.”

  “Nashville is an eight hour drive from Fairhope,” Leigh Anne says. “I wish you were staying a little closer. I want you to be happy, but I hate that you're moving away so quickly. You're starting next week?”

  “Yep,” I say, hardly believing it myself. “I've already moved out, so I'll be leaving from here. I still need to find a place in Nashville, but they said they'll have temporary housing set up for me for a few weeks until I get settled.”

  “I can't believe how fast this is all happening,” Leigh Anne says. She brings her hand to her mouth and looks away. Her shoulders are shaking.

  I move next to her on the bed and wrap my arms around her. “I'm so sorry,” I say. “I feel like I'm abandoning you when you need me the most.”

  It seems to be a theme in my life. Run away when things get hard.

  She turns and throws her arms around me, and I hold her as she cries. Tears sting my eyes and fall down my cheeks. She's been such a rock throughout this whole process, but I think it's finally hitting her that it's all coming to an end.

  When Leigh Anne pulls away, her eyes are red and puffy. “I'll be okay,” she says. “It's just an emotional week. I'm happy for you, Jenna. I know this is a big opportunity for you.”

  Penny finishes nursing Rachel and comes to sit beside us on the bed, her sleeping baby swaddled tightly in a white blanket with dragonflies embroidered on it. “I don't want you to go, either,” she says. “And I bet I know someone else who is going to miss you more than both of us combined.”

  I close my eyes and wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Preston and I were never going to end up together, and we all know it,” I say. “It was better for both of us to part ways before things got too serious.”

  “Jenna.” Penny's voice is soft and motherly. I look up to see her gently rocking the baby from side-to-side. Her eyes meet mine. “Things were already serious. At least for him. Why are you really leaving?”

  I stand and run a hand through my hair. I don't know whether I'm angry or sad. Or both. Friends are supposed to be supportive about your decisions, right? Why are they giving me such a hard time about this? I already feel like I'm standing on such shaky ground, I could fall at any moment.

  Leigh Anne stands and moves behind me. She puts a hand on my shoulder. “If this is what you really want, we're one-hundred-percent behind you,” she says softly. “But I think what Penny is trying to say is that we hope you're leaving for the right reasons, and not running away from something just because you're scared.”

  I shrug her hand from my shoulder and move away. “I love you guys, but this is so not what I need right now,” I say. “I need to get some air.”

  “Jenna,” Leigh Anne starts, but I'm already out the door.

  By the time I make my way down two flights of stairs, down the hallway, and out the back door, tears are flowing freely down my face and stifled sobs are making knots in my stomach. I run over to the pool and collapse at the edge of the water, thankful the lights are turned off so no one can see me.

  It's quiet out here except for the sound of the occasional car passing by in the neighborhood, so I hold my hand over my mouth as I cry. My breath comes in short bursts, as if someone is tightening a belt around my lungs. I try to calm myself, but an overwhelming sadness has taken over, and I can't control myself.

  I thought I was at peace with my decision. I was certain this was the right thing for me, but when they started questioning me, it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.

  Not because they doubt me, but because th
ey are right.

  I do not want to spend the rest of my life working some sales job in Nashville, Tennessee. I know going into it that the hours for these first few years are going to be hell. Sixty to seventy hours a week, some of it on the road doing crappy cold call sales and boring business meetings. This isn't me. This isn't what I want out of life.

  When I moved to Fairhope, I was running toward a new life. I was full of hope and determined to make something of myself.

  Thinking I was leaving for the same reason was just be being blind to reality.

  I decided to leave Fairhope because I'm afraid to let go and allow myself to be happy. I'm so scared of getting hurt that I pushed away the one person who would never hurt me.

  **

  Exhausted, I go to scrape myself off the concrete when I hear footsteps behind me.

  Leigh Anne is standing there, her face barely visible in the darkness. She has a light sweater wrapped around her in the unusually cool spring air. “Can I sit down?” she asks.

  “Of course.” I wipe my face on my t-shirt, snot and all. “Sorry, that was what they call an ugly cry.”

  She sits at the edge of the pool and dangles her feet in the water. “So glad this pool is heated,” she says. “It's cool out here, but this feels perfect. You should try it.”

  I rearrange myself on the concrete and let my feet fall into the water. She's right. It's amazing, but the thought of a heated pool brings a rush of memories. Preston was nothing but patient and loving toward me, and I threw it all away as it it meant nothing.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “I can't even believe you're out here asking me that, when you're the one going through so much right now,” I say. “I'm so sorry I walked out. I came here to support you, not get into an argument. Especially tonight.”

  “We deserved it,” she says. “I know we were pushing you too hard, but it's difficult to think about you leaving, all of a sudden. It's so unexpected. We just want you to be sure it's what you really want.”

  “I know,” I say. “I thought it was.”

  “And now?”

  I shrug. “I don't know where I belong,” I say. “I've never had friends who actually cared so much about what happens to me. I don't want to lose you guys, but at the same time, I'm so scared of what will happen if I stay.”

  “There are jobs in Fairhope, too.”

  “Working for the Wrights?” I say with a laugh. “I don't think that will work.”

  “There are plenty of other jobs,” she says. “How many did you apply for in town?”

  “None,” I say. “I didn't see anything that made me feel excited.”

  “What about the job in Nashville? Are you excited about that?”

  “Sales? Traveling and working seventy hours a week?” I say with a sigh. “It sounds like torture.”

  “I don't understand,” she says. “Why take the job and leave everyone behind? I wish you'd open up and tell us what's really bothering you.”

  I kick my feet slowly in the water, letting the heat of it flow across my skin. I don't even know where to begin. I've kept so much from all of them. Preston's the only one who knows about my family and my past. “I'm terrified things won't work out for us, and that it will hurt so bad, I'll never get over it.”

  “So, you'd rather leave and be miserable?” she laughs and bumps her shoulder against mine.

  I smile. “It sounds dumb, doesn't it?”

  “What's going on between you and Preston?” she asks. “I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but if something happened between you guys, and that's the reason you're leaving, it might help to get it out. Is this still about what happened with your dad?”

  My stomach twists. “Is this really what you want to talk about right now?” I ask. “Talking about my small problems seems really selfish right now.”

  She shrugs. “It's good. I need something to take my mind off the trial now that the jury is out,” she says. “We don't know if it will be tomorrow or next week before they come back with a decision. I'm afraid if I don't have something to focus on, I'll go insane.”

  I reach over and take her hand. “You've been such a good friend to me,” I say. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

  “I feel the same way,” she says. She squeezes my hand and lays her head against my shoulder. “You helped me through some of my darkest times. If I can help you with whatever you're going through, even if it's just to talk through it and decide that leaving is the right thing, I want to be here for you.”

  “I'm in love with him,” I say, feeling the tears constricting my throat again. “It feels like the least likely thing in the world to ever happen to someone like me, but I am.”

  “Have you told him that?”

  I shake my head and silent tears fall down my cheeks. If I keep crying like this, I'm going to be severely dehydrated in the morning. I feel like all I've done for weeks is cry. “No, I'm an idiot,” I say. “I was too scared to tell him what I was really feeling, so I told him it was over between us. I thought if I ended things now, I would never have to deal with the pain of him rejecting me.”

  “Hiding your true feelings never makes it easier,” she says.

  “I think I know that now, but I have no idea how to untangle this mess,” I say. “I've already accepted the job in Tennessee. They're expecting me in a few days. Besides, I can't stay in Fairhope for Preston. What if things don't work out between us? I mean, how could they possibly work out? Just look at his family. They don't want him to be with someone like me.”

  “It doesn't matter what his family wants,” she says. “It matters what he wants. Look at Knox and me. I almost lost him because I was too afraid of what my mother thought. I would have regretted that for the rest of my life. I'm done with regrets.”

  Her voice is laced with sadness.

  “How are you really holding up with all this?” I ask.

  “Going back through what happened was the worst part,” she says. “Having to sit in that courtroom full of people and talk about that night was like reliving it with an audience. And he just sat there with that smug look on his face the whole time.”

  “I hope they come back with a guilty verdict fast and wipe that smug look right off his face,” I say.

  “Even if they don't, I know I did the right thing for me,” she says. “I have carried so much guilt about keeping it a secret for as long as I did. He was free to rape other women while I sat there, knowing what he was the whole time, and doing nothing about it. Telling the truth has been harder than I could ever have imagined, but at least the truth is out there now. No matter what happens with the verdict, people know what he is now and what he's capable of doing. That's enough for me.”

  “You are the bravest person I know,” I say softly.

  “I thought you said I was a marshmallow,” she says, a slow smile spreading across her face.

  “A brave marshmallow,” I say. I pull her into my arms and hug her so hard.

  “Don't stay in Fairhope for Preston,” she says when we finally pull apart. “Stay for you, Jenna. Figure out what you want most and go for it, no matter how scary it may seem. You take it one day at a time and you build the life of your dreams. You're going to make mistakes and you're going to get your heart broken along the way, but that's what living is all about. Nothing is ever guaranteed in this life, but running away from something because you're afraid it might not end the way you want it to only leads to regrets. You have to learn to let go of that fear and take a risk. A leap of faith. What you find might surprise you.”

  I squeeze her hand again and we sit together for a long time, kicking our feet against the warm water, and wondering what tomorrow might bring.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Jenna

  The courtroom is freezing. They have the air conditioning turned up even though it's only eighty degrees outside. I am late getting here, because I overslept and almost missed the text from Penny that the verdict had come
in overnight.

  I have no idea whether a fast verdict is good news or bad news, but my stomach is tangled up in knots.

  The seats are packed and people are standing in rows along the back, taking up every spare inch of this place. I see my friends sitting a few rows behind the victims and rush to join them right as the judge enters and everyone stands. Preston is at the end of the row and our eyes meet as I squeeze in next to him.

  Fear and anticipation hangs thick in the air around us, and I shiver. My arm brushes against Preston's, and he leans toward me. I feel sick with worry, every muscle in my body tense.

  At my side, Preston's hand touches mine. I link my pinky with his and take a deep breath. It's the first time we've touched in weeks. Our first real connection. But he is my anchor against the waves of doubt and fear lapping at my heart. We are told to sit and the entire crowd of reporters, family, and friends sits down. Not a word is spoken.

  I glance at Preston and he meets my gaze, fear reflected in each other's souls. He threads his fingers through mine, and we cling to each other as the jury files in.

  I'm so nervous, I can barely hear. My ears are ringing and my heartbeat thunders through me.

  “Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asks, his commanding voice confident and strong over the silence.

  “We have, Your Honor.”

  The bailiff walks over to the foreman, who hands him a slip of folded paper. The judge glances at it, nods, and hands it back.

  “Will the defendant please rise and face the jury?” the judge intones.

  Burke Redfield stands. He straightens his collar and tugs on the bottom of his tailored suit jacket, the first sign of nerves he's shown since the trial began over a week ago.

  All five victims sitting on the front row—including Leigh Anne—are huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder.

  I study the faces of the jurors as they look at him, trying to get some idea of their decision from the expressions on their faces, but I can't read them at all. I can hardly breathe, my lungs locked up and shallow, as if I'm sipping air through a tiny straw. I cling to Preston's hand like a lifeboat.

 

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