The Wrong Kind of Love

My heartbeat picks up as I approach the building. This is going to be fucking torture, sitting in that room, face to face with her while she tells a courtroom full of people what happened. I swallow hard and take a deep breath.

"Better smile. It's your ten minutes of fame, Pearson," the officer laughs as we round the corner.

Swarms of people turn and stare at me. Flashes from cameras blind me, questions shouted at me as I led up the concrete steps. I don't look up; I keep my eyes trained on the ground, watching my chained feet move beneath me.

The double wooden doors to the courtroom open. It's already full, which I wasn't expecting. I'm lead to the front and sat at a long table next to Robert. He glances at me, a nervous smile twitching over his lips. "Just try to keep your shit together, okay?"

I nod. "Where is she?"

"Behind us."

My face grows warm and my stomach knots. I can't fucking turn around and look at her. I just can't do it. I keep my eyes trained on the edge of the table, reminding myself whatever she says... I told her to say it.

Victoria

My gaze immediately finds Jude at the front of the full courtroom, beside his lawyer. The sight of him has a thousand emotions tearing through me, but mostly pain and a bone-deep longing. To be so close to him, and not even see his face. To not be able to talk to him or touch him, is torture. The reporters at the side of the room turn their gazes to me as I walk in, but I ignore them as I take a seat beside my sister.

This is the last day of deliberations but the first day I’ve been allowed to come to the trial. And the only reason I am here today is to testify. The thought makes me feel sick, and while I’m starved for any chance to be near Jude, I want to run out of here and refuse to testify. Refuse the only request Jude has made of me since getting arrested. I block out the prosecution presenting evidence against Jude, until I hear my name.

"The prosecution calls to the stand, Victoria Deveaux.”

I hesitate, the urge to run still an itch at the back of my mind. This is akin to someone I love dying, only to discover that they’re alive, and now I have to put a bullet in their head. I can't, but I must. For my child. I cannot seem mentally unstable or like I was involved in anything illegal. They’ll take her away from me. Jude knows that.

My sister gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I somehow force myself to rise... The weight of the jury’s gaze follows me as I make my way to the witness stand. I can see the pity in their eyes. I’m sure all they see is a woman heavily pregnant with her captor’s child.

I take a seat, and then, for the first time in four months, I see Jude's face. His features are drawn, and dark circles sit below his eyes. He’s different, but the way his expression softens when he looks at me conveys everything he cannot say. I love you. My chest tightens, and I fight tears. This isn’t fair.

A court clerk moves to the stand and holds a Bible in front of me. I place my right hand on it, my gaze never leaving Jude. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?"

No. "Yes," I whisper.

I'm about to drive a wedge between Jude and me that is so big, I'm not sure I will ever be able to forgive myself. But he asked me to, for our child. The prosecution lawyer gets up and comes to stand in front of me. "Miss Deveaux, do you know this man?" She points to Jude.

"Yes."

"Can you please tell the court your relationship with this man?"

"He…” I take a breath, squeezing my eyes shut. “He is the man who held me hostage." My voice is strangled, as though the very denial of what he is to me is hard to verbalize. To the rest of this courtroom I probably just seem like a distressed victim.

Jude's gaze meets mine, a reassuring smile on his face. I both love and hate him at this moment.

"And can you tell the court how you came to be Mr. Pearson's hostage?"

"My boyfriend owed him a debt, and when he couldn't pay it, he offered me to one of Jude's staff as collateral," I say, void of emotion.

"So you were brought to his house, and then what happened to you?"

"I...I was held there for several days. Euan never paid the money."

"How were you treated while you were held captive? Did Mr. Pearson provide food for you? Reasonable living conditions?"