Chapter Seven

A few weeks have passed, and, thankfully, both Becky's ex and Johnny have been arrested.

Becky and I are both supposed to testify next month.

Having her fear has emotionally made her stronger, thank goodness, and she actually watched Madeline all the way through (both the cartoon and the live-action version) to celebrate being home.

"I am so proud of you, honey. Not only have you lived through your fear, but you also have lived to see justice for us, and, more importantly, for yourself."

"I couldn't have gotten through it without you, Randy. Thank you."

"You're welcome, my dove. You are so welcome."

~.~

The day of the trial has come, and Becky and I are both nervous.

It'll take a few weeks for the verdict to come in from the jury, but, once we testify, our work is done, and it'll be up to the justice system to see if we'll, well, you know, see justice.

After the trial, I can tell Becky's about to have anxiety attack, so I take her to a secluded room in the courthouse and sit her down so she can breathe without anyone bothering her.

"Honey, do you need me to stay to help you get through this?"

She nods, and starts choking out an apology.

"Shhhh. No need to apologize, my dove. I'm here."

It takes about ten minutes – which is fine, so don't go judging me for something I have no control over, and she doesn't have any control over it either – for Becky to calm down, and she hugs me when her anxiety attack ends. I hug her back, knowing that we'll get through this.

When we leave the courthouse, I treat my wife and myself to ice cream. It's what she deserves, and, heck, I can treat myself, too, if I want to!

We get home and just sit in front of the TV.

There's nothing else we can do except wait and work.

Becky has been working on planning her second book, a fantasy novel she plans to turn into a series.

She's been outlining, brainstorming, character building, world building, even magic building and religion building.

I think it's safe to say that her second book will be as good as, if not better than, her first.

But I'm pretty biased, considering she's my wife.

Anyway, weeks pass and the verdict is in, and we're called back to the courthouse.

Becky and I can only hope that it's a guilty verdict.

~.~

Not guilty. Despite everything, my wife's and my testimonies, our time and effort spent with lawyers and making our names known as victims of terrible crimes, those dirtbags were found not guilty.

And they were turned loose, too. Becky and I may have to skip town ourselves, to make sure neither of them get to us for revenge.

It took so much strength for my wife to not scream or even break down there in the courtroom.

But silent tears fell down her cheeks, and mine as well.

We can still hear the judge reading the verdict.

"On the counts of rape in the first degree and attempted murder in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?"

"Not guilty."

"And on the count of entrapment in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?"

"Not guilty."

"On the counts of aiding and abetting?"

"Not guilty."

Now, Becky and I are at home, and she won't stop pacing, but I can't blame her.

She's been through a lot.

"Randy, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know, honey. I just don't know."

"We can't even get restraining orders against them."

"I know, my dove."

"There's nowhere that they won't find us. He told me ten years ago that when he sees me again, I'll regret it. And, boy, have I regretted breaking up with him."

"Honey, how he reacted is not your fault. At all."

My wife breaks down on her knees, and I'm quick to comfort her.

We don't know what to do.

We just don't know what to do.