Chapter 9

Tru sat at the dining room table, a folded handkerchief in one hand and an untouched cup of tea in the other. She used to love drinking Chamomile tea; it was her favorite. She used it to wind down before bed or calm her nerves on a hard day. It was sweet of Sonny to always fix it for her when he could tell she was anxious. But lately the sight of it just made her want to hurl. So many things that she used to find comforting just weren't anymore. Sonny sat in the chair next to her, it was pulled away from the table slightly and angled towards her.

He studied her, watched her every move. She could see the concern that flooded his features, the helplessness that lay in his eyes. She wanted to tell him that she was fine. She wanted to tell him he was doing everything right and she felt one hundred percent safe in her home with him. That she knew nobody could harm her while he was near. But instead, she just sat there, staring blankly at the taunting cup of chamomile tea.

Carisi opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again, deciding against whatever he was going to say.

"There's no sign of forced entry," Rollins said as she came into the kitchen.

"I know he has a key," Tru said flatly.

Rollins narrowed her eyes on Tru, almost in amusement. "What are you talking about?"

"Last week my keys were missing for most of the day, then they suddenly appeared in plain sight on my desk. Carson must have taken them and made a copy." Tru said. "That's how he got in. We were supposed to change the locks, but haven't had a chance yet…"

Rollins looked at Carisi, an eyebrow raised, "But you said you saw him at the time of the alleged break in, right?"

"Alleged?" Tru snapped. Carisi took a deep breath and stood to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

"Yes,"

"Okay, we'll get back to that later…" Rollins disapproved but turned her attention to Tru. "Look, I know how much stress you've been under…maybe you had a bad dream?"

Tru rolled her eyes, "I'm not crazy, I know the difference between a dream and reality."

"Well, I know that someone can't be in two places at once." Rollins said.

Tru brought her hands to her neck, her fingers laced around the back of it, digging into her skin in frustration. "I know," she said finally.

"Then it must have been someone else," Carisi spoke up. "I believe Tru, if she said someone was in our home then someone was in our home."

Rollins stared at Carisi for a few moments before speaking, she didn't buy it, she had her doubts and it showed. She let out a sigh, "Okay," she conceded, "I'll check with the super in the morning and see if the security cameras caught anything."

"Thanks Rollins," Carisi said as he followed her to the door. He shut and locked it behind her, then put the chain lock on.

Sonny walked back into the kitchen and lingered in the doorway for a second. He looked at Tru, her hair pulled up in a bun, her cardigan pulled tightly around her, her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She was staring off into the distance, her mind lost in her own thoughts.

"Jesus, Sonny," she said finally, Sonny prepared himself for the third degree about where he'd been and what he'd been doing. He thought she would tell him how stupid it was to be following Carson, how it was dangerous, and he didn't need to be doing that. But instead, what she said was; "What the hell is going on?"

Sonny came closer, slightly relieved that she wasn't going to press him about his activities tonight. "I don't know, but I'm gonna figure it out."

She sniffed back tears and looked up at him from her seat, "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"What?" Sonny said softly, "No, of course not."

She nodded, wanting to accept his answer, but he could tell she was beginning to doubt her own sanity. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She let his arms surround her as she buried her head into his chest.

She felt nausea rising from her gut, her mouth began to salivate, sweat beaded up on her forehead and her eyes began to water. She pulled away from Sonny abruptly, putting a shaky hand over her mouth. Her stomach churned in that familiar way, and she knew she was going to be sick.

Sonny looked at her with concern, "Are you okay?' He asked, but she didn't have time to answer. She quickly darted to the trash receptacle and retched into it. Her gut twisting with every heave, suddenly Sonny was at her side, holding her hair back, gently rubbing his hand on her back.

She retched, and gagged, and coughed and spit until there was nothing left inside her. No trace of food or drink remained in her stomach. She gasped for air as she tried desperately to catch her breath before getting the hiccups—she hated the hiccups.

She fell to the ground, not having the strength to find her way back to a chair. Sonny brought her a glass of water and knelt in front of her. He looked at her, his eyes wide and soft. "Tru," he said softly.

"Sonny, don't." She said as she took a sip from the glass. She knew what was coming. He wanted her to take the test, acknowledge her pregnancy and take care of herself accordingly.

"Tru, I can't help you if you don't talk to me." Sonny said. "You need to let me in."

"I'm not trying to shut you out…" Tru said finally, "But I just…I can't talk right now."

Sonny didn't sleep at all that night. He chugged down the last of his coffee—his third cup—and tossed it into the trash can as he walked down the hall at the parole office. He pushed the double doors open and walked up to the front desk, he instinctively pulled out his badge and showed it to the receptionist.

"I'm Detective Carisi, I need to speak with Darrin Baker please," Carisi said.

"I'll let him know you're here, have a seat." The receptionist motioned toward a row of chairs lined up against the wall as she picked up her phone.

Carisi took a seat, but it wasn't long before the parole officer came to the door. He was short in stature, almost as round as he was tall, with balding hair and black rimmed glasses.

Carisi stood to his feet, "Officer Baker, I'm—"

"I know who you are," Baker said. "Come on in Detective."

Carisi followed him into the tiny, cramped office. Baker took a seat behind a desk that was overflowing with case files. Carisi sat across from him, he leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. "Thank you for meeting with me." He cleared his throat, "I'm here concerning—"

"Carson Goldberg—I know." Baker said.

Carisi sat back, thrown off kilter just a bit, what was going on here? "Yes, he was ordered to have no contact with Miss Jordan—yet he has contacted her several times since his release. He has shown up at the women's shelter where she volunteers—"

"Yes, I was informed of that shortly after it happened, Goldberg said he was under the impression it was for parolees, and he had no idea she would be there." Baker cut him off.

"Right," Carisi scoffed, he cleared his throat again, moving on to his next point. "He has also shown up outside her place of work and her home."

"You mean your home?" Baker asked. "You're the boyfriend, right?"

Carisi's jaw clenched cautiously, "I was also the arresting officer in the case—"

"Right, that's not a conflict of interest—" Baker cut him off again.

Carisi narrowed his eyes at the parole officer. "I know how this guy operates, how he thinks. For whatever reason he is obsessed with Tru, and he is gonna stop at nothing to have her for himself."

"I'm aware of the details of the case." Baker responded. "I'm also aware of your encounter with him last night. It seems to me you are the wrongdoer here."

Carisi squinted, "Are you kidding me here?" He said. "This guy raped my girlfriend—twice, he kidnapped her, stalked her—he is still stalking her, and I'm the bad guy?"

"You're angry, I get it. You have every right to be. Look, if it makes you feel any better, I will talk to him and reiterate to him that he is to stay away from her. Until you have proof that he is knowingly breaking his no contact order that is all I can do…" Baker leaned back casually in his chair, "But he did his time, and now you need to move on."

Carisi stood to his feet and pressed his palms flatly against the desk, leaning in to make his point. "This isn't over Mr. Baker. He's not done with her. I need a copy of his parole stipulations. As an officer of the law and a party in the case I am entitled to that."

Baker narrowed his eyes on Carisi, annoyed. "Have a seat outside and my secretary will bring you a copy," he said through gritted teeth.

Tru sat at the kitchen table once again, she turned her mug up and took another long drink of her coffee. It had been a long night, she tried to catch some sleep here and there but ultimately, they were both up all night. Sonny was right, she did need to let him in. She needed to tell him everything that she had been holding in, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could she tell him that she blamed herself for losing their baby three years ago? She blamed herself for getting raped. She blamed herself for everything.

She stared out the window next to the table, looking out at the bustling city. People rushing off to work, school or wherever they had to go. People living their lives with no idea that she was watching them through her window. It made her wonder, just how often she was going about her day and didn't notice Carson watching her. That's what started all this in the first place. She didn't notice.

She climbed into his cab that day and didn't recognize him. She had no idea he was a former classmate, didn't give him a second thought. She enjoyed his company though. He was nice and made her feel safe and that's why she always requested him as her driver. The thought of that made her sick to her stomach. That Carson used to make her feel safe. The man who had caused her so much torment once seemed so nice and kind.

She felt stupid for feeling that way, and a bit self-centered for not recognizing him. She tried to chalk it up to blocking out most of her senior year due to the trauma of losing her parents. She was there, but she wasn't—just a zombie—just going through the motions. If you were to ask her now, she wouldn't even remember what her prom dress looked like. How was she supposed to remember some random student?

No, don't do that! She scolded herself. He could have mentioned it. He could have said, 'hey remember me?' and went from there. He's the one who decided to stalk her instead, and then he followed her home that morning…there was something wrong with him, not her. He could have handled things so much differently, but he chose to hide in the shadows, and watch her instead.

The beeping of her cellphone's timer broke through her thoughts. Her time was up, ready, or not. She stood to her feet and walked over to the kitchen counter where her pregnancy test lay face down. She picked it up and hesitated before turning it over to reveal the answer. Her life was either about to change forever or remain the same. And honestly, she didn't know which one she wanted more.

Carisi put in his 8 hours on duty effortlessly. Going through the motions helped distract him from his own thoughts and worries. He hadn't spoken to Tru. He reached for his phone to call her about ten times throughout the day but decided against it each time. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know what to say. She was keeping herself distant for some reason, she needed her own space right now.

Rollins came up to his desk, holding a tablet in one hand.

"Hey Carisi," she said, "How're you doing?"

He rubbed his temples, "Alright, I guess. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Well about that," Rollins held up the tablet, "Your building has footage of the entry way but none in the hallway, apparently the cameras are just for show."

"You're kidding me." Carisi said, glaring at the tablet. She hit play.

"There's two people that enter the building around the time Tru made the call to you. It shows them go in opposite directions but there's which one—if any-of them went to your floor."

Carisi let out a loud sigh, "Okay, so we track them both down and talk to them."

"Already on it," Rollins said.

Carisi smiled at her, "Thanks Rollins, you always got my back."

Tru hadn't heard from Sonny all day, but she figured she would just see him when she got home. It was already getting late, about six o'clock in the evening. She had just left work when she decided to stop in at the Starbucks around the corner from her house to get herself a cup of coffee—decaf of course.

She rattled off her order to the barista, venti hot white chocolate mocha with two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut and java chips—gosh she sounded like one of those people who completely over did it with the half-calf nonsense in movies. But still it was her favorite, she paid for her drink and slid to the to the right of the counter, waiting for them to call her name. She heard her name being called but it wasn't from the barista, it came from behind her.

"Tru? Is that you?' She turned to see Abby, her patient at the Women's Center.

"Abby, hi…" Tru smiled, "It's good to see you."

"You too, you canceled our last session, I was worried." Abby said.

"Aw, you're sweet," Tru replied. "I'm fine, I had a stomach bug, but I'm better now."

"TRU!" The barista called out her name and she jumped slightly. Then smiled shyly to shake it off before snapping up her coffee.

"Well, I'll see you at our next session," Tru said as she started to leave.

"Wait, I wanted you to meet my boyfriend." Abby said.

"Oh, right," Tru remembered Abby saying she had met someone at their last session. "I'd love to."

"Here he comes," Abby said.

Tru turned around to see Abby's new boyfriend. She felt the blood drain from her face, and she gripped Abby's arm tightly, digging her fingernails into the young girl's skin. They needed to leave, right now, leave this café and get as far away as possible.

Abby didn't seem to notice and proceeded to introduce her to somebody she already knew—very well—Carson Goldberg.

"Carson, this is Tru, Tru this is Carson." Abby was speaking but Tru could barely hear her.

Tru took a step back and cleared her throat. Not sure how she should approach this situation. Should she expose him right here and right now? Let Abby know what kind of man he is? Would she believe her or him? Would she trust that Tru was telling the truth? Or should she play along until she could get Abby away from him and then tell her the truth about Carson. It was becoming clear to her now, he had been following her again, he saw her with Abby. Sweet, vulnerable Abby, and he was using her in some sick and twisted game of his.

She didn't want to make a scene in the coffee house. And making a scene might give Carson the upper hand, making Tru look like the crazy one. He was doing enough of that already.

She cleared her throat once again, "Nice to meet you." She forced through gritted teeth.

Carson actually extended his hand for handshake, but Tru didn't reciprocate. He had a lot of nerve.

"I really have to go," Tru said, "Abby you still have my number, right?"

"Yeah," Abby was confused.

"I'll talk to you later." Tru said as she backed her way out of the circle they had formed.

Tru couldn't escape that place fast enough. She left the shop and power walked the two blocks to her apartment. What was he doing with Abby? What were his plans? It wasn't a coincidence, Tru no longer believed in coincidences. He was planning something, and Abby was in danger.

She entered her apartment and instantly the smell of Sonny's pasta sauce filled her senses. She came around the corner, setting her back down on the counter. Sonny was busy cooking in the kitchen. He looked at her as she took a seat at the island.

"Hey, how was your day?" Sonny asked, he wiped his hands on a towel and slung it over his shoulder.

Tru sighed, wanting to tell him about Carson and Abby, but she had spent so much time talking and thinking about him lately that she just couldn't bring herself to do it. "It's better now," she said with a smile.

Sonny smiled back at her, accepting the gesture that he had made her day better.

"What are you making?" She asked, peering over to the stove. "Spaghetti?"

"Lasagna," he replied.

"Oh, even better."

There was a silence among them for a minute, Tru watched as he worked in the kitchen. She smiled to herself, thinking how lucky she was to find a man like him. He had been so patient and kind with her. He knew when to press her, he knew when to give her space. He knew everything about her. Well almost everything, she owed him the truth.

Tru cleared her throat, "So…" she trailed off for a minute before regaining her composure.

"Yeah?" He asked, his back was to her as he was laying out the long flat noodles in the baking dish.

She took a deep breath, in "I took the test." She said simply.

He abruptly stopped what he was doing and turned around. He held his breath, and stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I am pregnant."

Sonny couldn't hide the smile that spread across his lips, although he tried. "That's amazing," he said softly. He studied her for a second and realized she didn't match his enthusiasm. He cleared his throat, "How…how do you feel about this?"

She didn't answer right away, she didn't know what to say. She had always imagined this day; she would tell him about their impending parenthood in some grand gesture kind of way. They would hug each other and be oh so happy. After all that's the way it went down the first time. She hadn't expected all the complications and she definitely hadn't anticipated the outcome. What made this pregnancy any different? Especially with the added stress of a psycho stalker running around. She realized she hadn't been quiet a few seconds too long. Sonny gazed at her, his hopes and dreams and future hanging on whatever she was about to say. Say; she should probably say something. "I just…" she trailed off. She didn't have it in her heart to lie to him. She couldn't be one hundred percent happy about this baby. Not with all the different variables, all the things that could go wrong…and probably would. She heaved a big sigh. "I don't know…"

His gaze fell to the countertop, and she could tell that wasn't the answer he had wanted to hear. But he didn't get mad, he didn't yell or shout or tell her pregnancy was a beautiful thing and she should thank God she was able to conceive again even after the doctors told her she probably couldn't. He didn't try to shove his opinion down her throat. He didn't force his views on her. She had reservations and he accepted that. He accepted her, and all her flaws.

He cleared his throat again, "So are you hungry? I'm cooking enough to feed an army over here."

Relief washed over her; he knew she needed more time to come to terms with this. Even though he had been waiting for this moment for years, even though he wanted this more than anything; he was willing to conceal his happiness for the moment. He was willing to change the subject and go about their night like she hadn't just dropped a bombshell. He understood her. 'God,' she thought, 'I don't deserve this man.'