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I hated this.
No matter what I said today or how much I explained to the judge, it wouldn’t help Chris. He’d been charged by the state and federally with domestic terrorism. When I looked at the father, I didn’t see a domestic terrorist. He was a grieving man who lost his mind. Deep down, I hoped Chris threw himself at the mercy of the court and the judge had an ounce of compassion for him.
Once I was dressed, I headed back to the kitchen. Jackson already had Alandria dressed and ready to go. She sat in her highchair, munching on her cereal puffs while he poured himself another cup of coffee and one for me. I couldn’t believe how much our lives had changed over the last six months. The “wedding” gift from Mack and Ireland helped us secure financing for the two-story craftsman house we’d both fallen in love with. I still needed to pinch myself occasionally to remind myself all of this was real, and I was getting my happily ever after.
Corny, right?
“You look amazing,” Jackson murmured. “How do you feel about testifying today?”
I drank in his appearance. He wore a black button-down shirt tucked into a pair of fit black trousers, red suspenders, and a red tie. His jacket hung on the kitchen chair nearby. His hair was slicked back like I enjoyed, and his green eyes sparkled in the natural light filling the kitchen. When I didn’t answer immediately, his lips twitched as though he’d caught me drooling over him.Asshole.
“Nervous. Anxious too.” I exhaled, taking the coffee mug he offered me. “I feel like whatever answers I give, he’s going away for a long time, and in all honesty, I don’t want that.”
The lesser charges of assault had been dropped after I spoke with the DA to give my initial testimony. Chris hadn’t hurt me on purpose. I wouldn’t allow the prosecution to charge him with offenses I’d never testify on. Some officers said I had a bleeding heart or I gave the dad too much credit—Stockholm Syndrome—but it wasn’t that. I looked at Jackson and wondered how he would react should something happen to me. Then, I threw in my pregnancy and keeping him out…
No, I had compassion.
Yes, Chris absolutely did something wrong, and he should pay for his actions. However, he’d already lost the love of his life. Anything else seemed wrong—even if the law was the law. Yes, I’d been in a quandary. Stupid, really. I shouldn’t feel bad at all.
“He should,” Jackson said, popping me out of my thoughts. “Sunshine, I love you more because you are such a compassionate person, but what happened at the hospital—it didn’t just affect you. It was everyone.”
Jackson was right. Obviously. I looked at my microsection of the incident, not the whole of the hospital. There was no telling how many patients were turned away. How many were stuck waiting for the OR to open back up and who knew if there were any deaths because of surgeons not being able to do their jobs? The whole of the hospital had come to a grinding halt because of a grieving, misguided father.
“Security holds some responsibility,” I said. “Had they brought him to the right floor and at least allowed him to see his son, none of this would have happened.”
“And if the other driver had just called 911, none of this would have happened either.” Jackson frowned as he placed his coffee cup on the kitchen island. “None of it changes facts though, sunshine.”
I understood what he was saying. I’d gone back and forth over all the details, including the smallest ones. I’d talked to the hospital therapist too, while trying to untangle the darkest spots of my memory. As much as I wanted to be angry about the whole thing, I was heartbroken more than anything. If that made me a bad person, so be it.
“I hope he receives the help he needs while incarcerated.” I knew there was no way he’d get out of going to jail. How much time was up to the judge?
“We can only have faith,” Jackson murmured. “The boy should be the priority for everyone.”
I agreed.
Because of the trauma of the accident and his birth, according to the pediatric doctor, the boy had some developmental delays. Of course, a baby’s head and brain were more resilient than an adult’s. However, there were a few minutes where oxygen hadn’t gotten to where it was needed because the umbilical cord had been compressed and his mother’s heart had stopped beating. How bad his disabilities would be was still up in the air.
“I really hate all of this.”
Jackson pulled me into his embrace. Warmth spread through me as he held me tight. We’d been through so much together and apart.
“I wish things could’ve been different.” She stared up at him.
“We all do,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.
By the time we left the house and arrived at the courthouse, we had less than twenty minutes to get inside and be ready to testify. Jackson took Alandria for a walk to give her something to do while he waited. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t know how long I’d be sitting for. Anything over twenty minutes would make for one cranky little girl.
The judge entered the courtroom minutes after I’d signed in and took his seat behind the bench. For long, agonizing moments, he read over the paperwork. He glanced up from the file several times to stare at Chris, then over at the prosecutor. Had something happened I didn’t know about?
“We’re ready to begin,” the judge said. “Could both the defense and prosecuting attorneys please step up to the bench?”
What was going on?
Both lawyers stood before the judge, their conversation hushed as both nodded and spoke when asked questions. When they were finished, they went back to their respective tables, and the judge returned his attention to the jury and those in attendance.
“There is a plea bargain that has been reached,” the judge said. “Only within the last hour. I find it prudent to allow those witnesses who are here to testify with some modifications. They will be witness impact statements instead.”
“We agree, Your Honor,” the defense lawyer said.