Chapter 18 - THE VERDICT
Our first dinner was painfully ordinary.
Exactly as Ethan had promised.
A small Italian restaurant in Brooklyn.
No private room.
No photographers.
No foundation guests.
Mara sat in a car half a block away because the trial was still active, but I pretended she did not exist.
Ethan wore a dark sweater.
I wore jeans.
Nobody called him Mr. Carter.
Nobody called me Ms. Monroe.
We talked about ridiculous things.
His hatred of olives.
My inability to keep houseplants alive.
The fact that he had once failed a college economics course despite later becoming a billionaire.
“You failed economics?”
“The professor had unreasonable expectations.”
“You slept through the final.”
“Unreasonable expectations.”
I laughed so hard the waiter smiled.
Then Ethan became quiet.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
“I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.”
My smile faded.
He immediately looked guilty.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
I reached across the table.
I placed my hand over his.
“I haven’t heard it either.”
We stayed until closing.
He walked me to the car.
He did not kiss me.
That made me want him to.
Two days later, the jury began deliberations.
The waiting was worse than testimony.
Four hours.
Six.
Nine.
Then the court clerk called.
A verdict had been reached.
I returned to the courtroom beside Naomi.
Andrew entered wearing a navy suit.
He glanced at me.
For once, his expression contained something I had never seen.
Uncertainty.
The jury filed in.
My hands shook.
Count by count, the verdicts came.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Not every charge.
But enough.
Stalking.
Coercive conduct.
Assault.
Violation of protective orders.
Additional proceedings connected to the firearm and professional misconduct would continue.
Andrew closed his eyes.
His mother began crying behind him.
I felt no triumph.
That surprised me.
I had imagined relief.
Vindication.
Maybe even satisfaction.
Instead I felt tired.
The judge ordered Andrew remanded pending sentencing.
As officers approached, he turned toward me.
“Ava.”
The courtroom froze.
His attorney grabbed his arm.
Andrew ignored her.
“You know me.”
I stared at him.
For years, I had thought that was true.
I knew his favorite wine.
His surgical schedule.
The scar beneath his chin.
The way he tapped his fingers when impatient.
The music he played before difficult operations.
I also knew the sound of his key in the apartment door when he was angry.
The way his apologies changed after each assault.
The precise expression he wore before deciding how much pain I deserved.
“Yes.”
I spoke quietly.
“I do.”
Andrew waited.
“That’s why I left.”
The officers took him away.
Outside, dozens of cameras waited.
I did not speak.
I walked past them with Naomi.
Ethan stood beyond the barricade.
He did not move toward me until I moved toward him.
Then he opened his arms.
I stepped into them.
May you like
This time the embrace did not feel like survival.
It felt like arrival.
