“What was his reaction?”
“He said again said that he would get help.”
“How did you respond?”
“I told him that I had heard it before and was tired and didn’t want keep going and I wanted to separate.”
“Did he say he would move out?”
“He wasn’t happy but I wasn’t budging. And a few days later, when I was at work, he texted me that he had moved in with a friend of his.”
“After you separated, did you stay in touch?”
“We did. But only by text. Usually, something came in the mail for him and I let him know.”
“Did you text him for any other reasons?”
“I did. When we got married, we received a lot of beautiful gifts. And many of them, well, we never took them out of their boxes as we had no room to put anything. So they stayed in the second bedroom that we weren’t using. But when we separated, we thought about selling the condo but the market was bad. And I couldn’t afford the mortgage payment on my own. So I texted him that I wanted to rent out the second room.”
“Go on.”
“And I asked him if there was anything that he wanted. There were so many presents from his family and friends and I just didn’t feel right keeping everything.”
“And did you get a response to your text?”
“Yes. He said that there were a few things that he wanted and he asked if he could come over.”
“And how did you respond?”
“I told him my schedule. That I had been working a lot. But he should give me some times that might work.”
“Did you at any time consider getting together as a chance at reconciliation?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“And did you get the impression from anything that your husband said or wrote that he saw this opportunity to see you as a chance of reconciliation?”
“Objection,” Pontrelli called out. “Asking for an opinion.”
“Withdrawn,” I said.
“All right, go on Ms. Landau,” the judge confirmed.
“When did you next hear from Mr. Robbins?” I asked.
“I think it was about a week later. I got a text that he wanted to come by that night.”
“And what did you do?”
“I texted him back that I had a meeting after school but seven o’clock would work.”
“Did you prepare in any way for your husband coming over?”
“I am not sure I understand your question.”
“Well, did you tell him to come for dinner? Did you put out any food? Did you do anything that would make it feel inviting?”
“No.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Well, it was a few minutes before seven. I knew this because I had just looked at my watch. And I received another text from Steven. He said that he was on the 10 freeway, there was a lot of traffic, and that he would be about 15 minutes late. So I started to grade some papers and a short time thereafter, the doorbell rang.”
“Do you remember what you said when you opened the door?”
“Yes, I was surprised to see that he was holding a bottle of wine. And I asked him what that was for.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said something about extending an olive branch. That he did not want to fight. He only wanted things to be amicable.”
“Go on.”
“I said that I also did not want to fight. I took the bottle from his hands and put it on the coffee table.”
“Did you open it?”
“No, it just sat there.”
“Then what?”
“Well, we made some small talk. He asked how my dad was. My father had recently had surgery and I thought that was nice that he cared. And then he asked if we could go into the other room.”
“Where the wedding presents were?”
“Yes.”
“Was there a bed in the room?”
“No, from the time we moved in we kept the room as a catch all. It was filled with boxes and we never really unpacked the room. When we got married, we kept many of the gifts there that we were not using right away. I think I already told you that.”
“That is ok.”
“And then?”
“Well, I picked up a yellow pad that was on the floor and I was going to make a list of anything that he wanted. There were a few boxes that were not marked with what was inside and he opened them.”
“And what happened next?”
“Steven said that he really didn’t want anything. That he had no room either. And I could keep everything. He then got up and asked if we can go into the other room.”
“What room?”
“The living room. So I said ok and walked into the living room.”
“Did Steven join you?”
“No. He walked into the kitchen. I thought he was getting a glass of water. But instead he came out holding the wine bottle opener and two wine glasses. And he sat down on the couch.”
“Where you were sitting?”
“I wasn’t.”
“All right, and then?”
“Steven asked if we could have a glass of wine and that he would then be on his way.”
“Go on.”
“But I was a little reluctant. I just did not think it was right and did not want to give Steven the wrong impression.”
“So what did you say?”
“I told him that I had a lot of papers to grade.”
“And how did he respond?”
“He said something about it is only one glass of wine and again repeated that he would then leave.”
“How did you answer him?”
“I said ok.”
“What happened next?”
“Steven sat on the chair facing the couch where I sat. And he poured us each a glass. And we started to talk and he reminded me of when we first met, and our first date and he was being very nice.”
“Did you finish your wine?”
“I did.”
“And did he pour you another glass.”
“He poured both of us another glass of wine. And we talked some more and then he looked at his watch and said he should be going but wanted to make a toast. But when he raised his glass, he asked if he could join me on the couch.”
“And what did you do?”
June took a long breath before answering.
“I was stupid. I thought he was going to leave so I said ok.”
“And did he make a toast?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Well, as he sat down, he put his arm around me and said that he did a lot of thinking and that he thought we should get back together.”
“What did you do?”
“I did not respond and moved towards the other end of the couch.”
“And what did he do?”
“He moved again towards me and leaned in to kiss me.”
“Did he kiss you?”
“He tried to but I blocked him with my hand.”
“Ms. Landau,” Judge Faust interrupted. “This is sounding like a soap opera. I assume you have some point you are trying to make?”
“Yes, your honor. I just need a little leeway.”
“Very well. Proceed.”
“And what happened next?” I said, returning my focus to June.
“I told him it was over. That he was upsetting me. That I had work to do and he needed to leave. And I got up and started to walk towards the door.”
“Then what?”
“He stayed on the couch and did not move.”
“What did you do?”
“I walked back over to him and tried to take the glass out of his hand and I told him he needed to leave.
“You said you tried to take the glass out of his hand.”
June started to cry.
“Take your time.”
June cleared her throat. “That’s right. As I reached for the glass, he pulled my hand towards him and sat me in his lap. And
then he kissed me on my mouth and held me very tight. I could not pull out of his grip.”
“Did he say anything?”
“It was disgusting.”
“I understand. But you need to tell the court what he said.”
June was silent.
“Ms. Robbins,” Judge Faust said. “Do you need to take a break?”
“I am ok.”
“Very well, proceed.”
“He told me that I wanted him and he was ready to give it to me.”
I turned to face the jurors as I asked June to continue.
“Go on.”
“He kissed me but this time with my free hand I pushed him in his chest. And as I did, he spilled the glass of wine all over his shirt. And this made him very angry.”
“Did you say anything?”
“I shouted ‘please leave.’ And he started to get up. And I thought he was going to walk out the door. But instead he came towards me with this look of fire in his eyes.”
In all the sessions that I had prepped June, she had never used this expression before. And as I heard June use those words, images of Jacob flooded my mind.
“I had never seen this look before. He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me against him as he licked my neck.”
“What did you do?”
“I said ‘what are you doing? What are you doing? Please stop. It’s over.’ But he didn’t hear me or did not want to hear me and he pushed me in the bedroom and threw me down on the bed.”
“At this point, how much had you had to drink?”
“Just the one glass.”
“And how much had he had?”
“He had finished his first glass but the second glass was full when he spilled it on himself.”
“So would you say your husband was under the influence of alcohol?”
“Objection,” Pontrelli said. “No foundation has been made that the witness can offer such an opinion.”
“Sustained,” said Judge Faust.
“I will rephrase the question,” I said. “On prior occasions, had you ever seen your husband acting under the influence of alcohol?”
“Yes.”
“And this time, would you say his behavior was like those other times?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Whenever we were at a party, and he had had too much to drink, Steven would get silly, or very quiet. And if I drove, he would fall asleep in the car.”
“So how was this time different?”
“This time he was on fire. He was mad.”
“Ok, so he pushed you onto the bed. Was he on the bed with you?”
“No, he stood at the foot of the bed staring at me.”
“And what did you do?”
“I slowly moved to the side of the bed and tried to get off. But he moved in front of me and put his hands on my shoulder and kissed me again on my neck.”
“Go on.”
“I was scared. And he continued to kiss me. And then he put his hand under my chin and raised my face so that I was looking directly at him. I told him that he was scaring me but he just grinned. He then put his hands under my top and squeezed me.”
“Where did he squeeze you?”
“My breasts. He had both hands on my breasts and he held them tight as he stared into my face.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He went on that I was the only one he had ever loved and…’ June paused.
“And what?” I prompted her.
“That I had a degree and he was not as smart as me and I wanted to cry but I held back. I knew I needed to stay calm,” June said.
“Why?”
“Because of the way he looked at me. Steven weighs probably twice as much as me and he worked out and was very strong. I thought he would hurt me if I resisted.”
“What happened next?”
“He lifted my top over my head and started kissing me over my bra and kept asking do I like that, do I like that but I did not answer. He then turned me over on my stomach, unhooking my bra, and quickly rolled me over again and started to kiss my breasts.”
“What did you do?”
“I was pleading, ‘please stop. Please stop.’”
“And did he?”
“I thought he did. My eyes were closed and I felt him get off the bed. So I slowly opened my eyes but….”
June sobbed.
“Ms. Robbins. Do you need to take a break?” Judge Faust inquired again.
Without answering the judge, June composed herself and raced to finish her next thought.
“He was standing completely naked at the side of the bed with his hands on his hips like showing off and I closed my eyes again.”
“June, I know this is difficult,” I said gently. “But I have to ask you a few more questions. And you have to tell the court everything that happened.”
“I understand,” she stammered through her tears.
“Why didn’t you run out of the room?”
“I told you. He was strong. I feared he would hurt me.”
“All right. What did he do next?”
I could sense June was anticipating this part of her testimony as she pulled her shoulders back and rearranged herself in the chair.
“I felt both his hands around my neck and I felt his penis pressing against my mouth. My mouth was closed and he yelled ‘suck on it, bitch.’ So I opened my mouth and his penis slipped inside. He then jerked with his hands my head back and forth. And he kept saying, ‘You like that, I know you do.’”
June’s cheeks turned beet red.
“And I wanted it to be over but he yelled ‘your lesson is not over, bitch.’ And with his hand pushed into the center of my back, he climbed on top of me. He continued kissing my breasts and I remember tears streaming from my eyes. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said as he blotted my tears with his fingers. ‘I am going to make you sleep so well tonight,’ he said as he pulled down my pants and threw them across the room. I turned my head to my side but he jerked it back.
“‘Look at me,’ he shouted. ‘Look at me.’
“More tears trickled down my cheeks and I was trembling beneath him as I felt his hand slide down between my legs as he pushed one finger inside me and then another. I winced. But again he ordered me to look at him as he squatted on his knees between my legs. He then spread my legs as he jabbed me.”
“You mean he started to have intercourse with you,” I clarified.
“This is so embarrassing,” June’s voice quivered.
“I know it is. But I need you to answer the question.”
“Yes, he started to have intercourse.”
“And what did you do?”
“I cried ‘please stop, please stop’ but he looked at me with an obnoxious grin.”
I handed June the box of tissues that was on the clerk’s desk.
“All right. Please continue.”
“I felt him enter me again like you would stab someone with a knife. He pushed into me with such force that I saw stars. And then he stayed in me without moving. And then he pulled out and jabbed me again with even more force.”
As she spoke, my mind recalled in vivid images the night I was attacked. In silence, I mirrored June’s testimony.
“He picked his head up and said with disdain, ‘Do you like that?’ and he jabbed me again and repeated the phrase “Do you like that?” And he kept asking me over and over, do you like that, do you like that.”
“Does that feel good?” He slowly pulled out and then thrust harder, pounding his fat belly against me and again pausing.
“And after three or four more jabs, he grabbed my hips and then the back of my knees and held my legs up in the air. And as I looked through my legs, all I could see was his face and his eyes were on fire. And then he began thrusting.”
“And as I felt my feet dangling over the edge of the mattress, I could see his blood pooling in the whites of his eyes.”
“He moved inside me slowly and then stopped and
slowly and then stopped and his hands were gripping my hips so tight. And then he moved his hands to my breasts and again squeezed them as he picked up his pace and this time he thrusted harder and harder and he squeezed me harder and harder.
“And with each further thrust, my body seized while my heart froze.”
“And his breathing got louder and louder and he was squeezing me so hard I thought I could feel his pulse through the palms of his hands. He was so strong. And from the weight of his body, I could not move.”
“I could not breathe.”
“His pace quickened and I wanted it to end.”
“And I wanted it to end. Tumbala, Tumbala, Tumbalalaiku.”
“He thrust one more time and made this horrific sound.”
“Finally, as if a gunshot exploded in the air, his body arched and he made the most disgusting sound before crashing back on top of me, leaving me bare of all normalcy and sanity. “
“Ms. Landau, are you all right?”
Tumbala, Tumbala, Tumbalalaiku.”
“Ms. Landau?”
I heard the judge call my name but my body was frozen and I did not respond.
“Ms. Landau,” he repeated again.
I took a deep breath. But still the words did not come out.
“Ms. Landau.”
“I am sorry, your honor. I just need a minute.”
I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts. “Ok June, I know this is very difficult. But please tell the court what happened next.”
June continued, “I wanted so badly for him to move off me but he rested his head on my shoulder and I could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. I kept my eyes closed. I could not breathe. His weight was making it difficult for me to breathe and I pleaded, ‘please get off me.’ But again, he lifted his head, smirked, and said, ‘I know you want more.’ And for I don’t know how long, I laid there motionless and said nothing. I must have blacked out because when I woke up, he was gone.”
Chapter Thirty Two
It was almost noon when I completed June’s direct examination and Judge Faust recessed the court until 1:30.
When we returned to court, the judge said, “Mr. Pontrelli. You may proceed.”
Pontrelli was wearing a dark blue, pinstriped suit, blue shirt, and gold and diamond cufflinks that were large enough to broadcast his initials from the front to the back of the courtroom.
“Thank you, your honor.”
Against My Will Page 19