Page 19 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Chapter Eleven

LAURA

"I used to hate vodka. I drank so many White Russians one night while in college and then became so sick. It took years and a certain White Russian to bring me back to enjoying the flavor, the burn.”

As Val leaves, my mind whirls with conflicting emotions, but guilt isn’t the one dominating anymore. I think I’m finally starting to move past it—past all the lies I told myself to justify staying with Sam, past the shame of not fighting back harder.

Today feels different. It’s not just about what happened yesterday; it’s about deciding that I can’t keep living like this.

Earlier when I first parked at the coffee shop, my lawyer Ronni called. I wanted to answer. I really did, but I didn’t.

There were bruises I had hidden—marks Sam left behind that I couldn’t let Val see. And as much as I needed to talk to Ronni, I really wanted to see Val more.

So, instead of calling her back, I stormed inside.

Maybe that’s why his careless comment about the latte hurt as much as it did. Sure, he made up for it with his usual charm, but did he really? The sting still lingers, a reminder of how fragile I feel right now. How fragile Sam has left me.

Now, with Val gone and the quiet pressing in, I take a deep breath and pull out my phone, dialing, Ronnie Davis.

"Hello, Laura. I'm glad you are returning my phone call. Did you get my message about Sam appealing the divorce down in Lee County?”

“Ronnie, I'm so sorry I missed you earlier. But, I need to talk to you about something that happened yesterday,” I say when she answers. "I know that my message was vague, but I think I finally have the right type of evidence to get rid of Sam for good.."

There’s a pause, then her calm but firm voice comes through. “It was vague, I agree. I know you said you had something important to tell me. I just read the email from the judge and reached out as soon as I could. Tell me, Laura, what happened? Are you okay?”

I hesitate for a moment, my voice catching as I try not to cry. Why am I doing this now? Why not before?

Maybe it’s because Rhea and Skipper already helped me take the first step. They filed the police report, made the appointment at the clinic, even helped me leave the message with Ronnie. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of hiding, of pretending everything is fine when it’s not.

I finally begin, my voice shaking, “Sam… He… He assaulted me yesterday morning. In the kitchen. And I… I didn’t stop him at first. I froze, Ronnie.

I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but Skipper stepped in before it got worse.

I… I’m so tired of this.” The words tumble out, leaving me breathless and ashamed.

My voice shakes, but I force myself to keep talking.

“I just froze. I didn’t know what to do. ”

Tears start pouring down my cheeks.

Ronnie’s tone shifts, becoming sharper, more protective.

“ Laura, listen to me. This is not your fault. Do you understand? Have you been checked out by a doctor? Did you already shower? If so, that’s okay, but if you haven’t, you need to go immediately to the student health clinic.

You need to go anyways. It’s important for your safety and for any legal action we take. ”

“I am going. I have an appointment at the clinic this morning, but I’m waiting for Rhea to finish her first class at nine. She’s coming with me. And yeah, I already showered. I had to wash him off me, I just couldn’t stand it.”

“Hey, its okay. But I’m glad you are going to the clinic, that’s good,” she says, her voice softening slightly.

“They will check you over, also, schedule an appointment with your therapist, it will help, too. Okay. I'm glad you have Rhea and Skipper there with you. What about your cousin, James? Or your Dad. I know you don't always see eye to eye, but having support is important. You’re stronger than you think, Laura. One step at a time. Call me after you’ve been to the clinic, and we’ll figure out the next move together. ”

“Thank you, Ronnie,” I say, my voice barely audible.

“Anytime. And Laura? Remember, you’re not alone in this.”

As the call ends, I sit there for a moment, staring at the screen.

My mind drifts to everything that led up to this—the fear, the hesitation, the pain I’ve carried for so long.

But for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m choosing to believe in the possibility of something better.

My hands are trembling, but it’s not just from fear.

It’s from the resolve slowly building inside me.

I’ve been living in fear and shame for too long.

It’s time to take back some control, no matter how small the steps feel.

After my appointment at the health clinic, I feel like I’m walking through a fog, every sound muffled and distant, every step heavy and deliberate.

The chill in the air brushes against my skin, but it feels like it can’t reach the numbness that’s settled deep inside me.

Even the sunlight filtering through the clouds seems dim, as if the world is reflecting the haze in my mind.

The doctors checked me over, asking all the right questions, offering support, but nothing could erase the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Sam’s assaults were something I’d been trying to forget, to push aside as if it never happened, but today, there was no avoiding the truth.

The questions from the doctor—“Does it hurt here?” “Did he force you?” “How often has this happened?”—cut through the denial I’d built around myself like a fortress.

Their concern, the gentle way they explained the next steps, all forced me to confront the reality I’d been so desperate to ignore.

Hearing the word "rape" spoken out loud, not by me but by someone else, made it undeniable. It wasn’t just a bad memory; it was something real, something wrong.

He hurt me. He violated me.

What started as young love has devolved into a nightmare, and now, the realization sits heavy on my chest like a stone I can’t dislodge.

I make my way to the side of the history building where Val is waiting. I didn’t make it to class—again—because of the appointment, but Val doesn’t need to know that. I can’t handle the possibility of seeing pity in his eyes or hearing questions I’m not ready to answer .

Right now, I just need to focus on feeling normal, even if it’s only for a little while. I’m already too raw to handle his probing questions or well-meaning concern.

Rhea would have come with me to meet up with Val, hovering like the protective soul sister she’s always been, but her linguistic clinic demanded her attention. Before she left, she made me promise to text her if I needed anything.

"Try to have some fun," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Oh, and about the coffee thing? Didn’t you say he’s Russian? Maybe it’s a cultural thing. Maybe he didn’t mean to mess up."

I’m replaying her words in my head when I spot Val leaning against the building, scrolling through his phone.

The bustling noise of students heading to their next classes fades slightly as I take him in.

He looks so relaxed, so at ease, as if the weight of the world doesn’t rest on his shoulders like it does on mine.

A soft breeze tousles his dark hair, and when he glances up and catches sight of me, his face breaks into that boyish grin.

It’s disarming, the way he can make me forget the weight I’m carrying.

For a fleeting moment, the warmth of his expression feels like sunlight cutting through my fog, reminding me that not everything in my life has to feel this heavy.

"Hey," he says, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. "Ready to try that Mexican place? Or do you want to grab another latte first? I promise, this time I’ll be ready and do better."

I can’t help but laugh, though it comes out softer than I intend. "Oh, so you do learn from your mistakes."

"Occasionally," he teases, holding the door to his car open for me. "But only when it comes to you."

His words catch me off guard, a warmth spreading through my chest despite everything weighing me down. It’s ridiculous how easily he can disarm me, how just one playful comment can make me feel seen—even when I’m not ready to be.

“So, Tony’s a real control freak, huh?” I say, taking a bite of my taco.

Val laughs. “Yeah, he is. But Dante’s pretty cool. He took me under his wing when I first started. Saw me barbacking at another restaurant one night and decided to help me out. He recruited me to Pianissimo and I’ve been there ever since.”

“That’s nice of him,” I say. “So, tell me more about where you are from in Sochi.”

Val pulls out his phone and after typing on the screen, and turns it around for me to see.

I look closer, zooming in on his home town. “It’s a beautiful city and it’s on the ocean. Why did you ever leave?”

“Well,” Val starts, placing his own taco down and rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I came here on a student visa, but I got stuck. Didn’t turn in my renewal paperwork in time.

Now I can’t go home because I don’t have enough money, and I really can’t stay here because I’m not officially official…

But I’ve been lucky that people haven’t noticed my residential status.

And like I said, Dante has been a big help to get me on my feet without having legal issues. ”

“Wow,” I say, taken aback. “That’s quite a story. I guess I should be glad you got stuck or you would never have heard me sing.”

“Thanks,” he says, his smile widening. “And I’m sure I would have found your voice across the big pond we call the Atlantic.”

I giggle—it’s always so easy to talk with Val.

We finish our meal and decide to take a walk in Central Park. As we stroll through the park, the conversation turns to school.

I glance over at Val, curious. "Why are you getting a science degree?" I ask, genuinely interested.