July 25, 2017
9:00am

Los Angeles County Jail (Inmate Reception Center)

450 Bauchet St, Los Angeles 90012  

“What’s he offering?”

My head is pounding.  Too many nights alone in a jail cell, sick with worry, has taken its toll on me.  I don’t sleep now.  I chew my fingernails and tug at my hair. I feel like I’m slowly going insane and I’m sure I must look like some kind of lunatic to him, even though he hasn’t said a word about it.

“It doesn’t matter.” Justin doesn’t look up from his paperwork as he speaks to me.  “We’re not taking a plea bargain.  You know better.  You’re innocent in all of this and we’re going to prove it.”

He’s so determined and in fills me up with a hope I haven’t known in months.  I want to hug him, but then…I don’t want to be near him at all because it makes me feel so damn sick inside.  I don’t get it, really.  It must be me because, for some fucked up reason, I have a longing inside for him.  I know that I physically miss him and I have for a really long time as much as it pains me to admit that.  I threw up my breakfast thinking about it.

I’ll never admit it to him.  I couldn’t take that kind of heartbreak.  I had my chance and I left.  This is my life now, and I’ll be damn lucky to walk away without any type of prison sentence.

“Justin…” I start to say more to him, but the ringing of his cell phone quickly silences me.  I watch him as he pulls it out, and my heart sinks when he looks at me again.  

“It’s Hannah,” he says gently.  “I have to take this, all right?”

I can’t even form a response, so I just nod and watch as he walks to the door and gets buzzed out into the hallway.  I wonder what she thinks of this.  She must want to kill me for interfering with her relationship yet again.  It’s uncanny. Somehow, fate always brings Justin and I back together, even if we don’t want to be. 

What does it mean though?

I wish I knew.

It takes more than twenty minutes for him to return.  He looks drained as he drags himself back over to the table and has a seat, immediately getting lost in his pile of paperwork again.

“Everything okay?”

“Hm?”  He glances at me just slightly.  “Yes…fine.”

It’s a lie, but given my situation, I doubt it’s my place to point that out.

  “She must be due soon.”

“The doctor told her it’ll be another week.”  He sweeps a hand across his forehead.  “I may have to fly home for a few days.  Someone may have to come here in my place depending on how things go, but I promise I’ll be back.”

“You shouldn’t leave your baby because of me, Justin.  Christ, go live your life, all right? I shouldn’t have called you.”

“But you did.  End of story.”

We stare at each other for just moments, and then he goes back to what he was doing.

“With any luck the judge will throw this out of court.  Either that, or Tad will wake up and admit that he’s the cause of all of this.”

I snort.  “Not likely.”

“Stranger things have happened, Mags.”

“He’s on life support.”

“From what they’re telling me, it’s just a coma.”

“What?”

He glances up at me.  “That’s the last update I got.  They took him off the ventilator and he can breathe on his own, but he’s still in a coma.”

“So he might live?”

“They couldn’t tell me that, but I’m praying that he does. At least that way we have a shot at an open and shut case.”

“He’ll put the whole thing on me, Justin.  He doesn’t want to lose his career and he certainly doesn’t want to go to jail.”

"It'll be your word against his," Justin sighs, reaching a hand through his hair as he rifles through the paperwork some more.  "A jury will sympathize with you, once we paint the story...if we even have to go to that extreme."

"I'd rather take the plea bargain."  

"I'd rather you just shut up and take my advice."

I stare at him, at the bags under his eyes, at the redness that has taken over the whites of them.  Days without sleep, mind filled with every type of worry.  A baby on the way.  A fiancé that has one foot out the door.

It's my fault.  

"Aren't you thinking about your own life?  A trial would keep you here for weeks...months..."

"If you're so worried about it, why'd you call me?" He laughs bitterly.  

"I didn't know what else to do." I look down at my lap, and wait for him to snap out another bitter response.

He never does.  It takes several minutes for him to say anything at all.

"You should have called me the first time he laid a hand on you."

I shake my head, pressing my lips together tightly to keep my sobs inside, before I can answer.  "I wanted to handle it on my own, and you were the last person I would have called at that point."

He nods slightly.  "I probably wouldn't have taken your call anyway."

"Well, I wouldn't' have blamed you."

"Why'd you bail on me?"  His voice is barely a whisper.  "Why did I wake up alone that morning?"

I shrug. 

"Maggie."

"I can't talk about this," I croak.  "Not here."

"I deserve an answer."

I look into his eyes.  The fatigue has been replaced with so much hurt, I can barely handle sitting in front of him.  "It was just a spur of the moment thing, Justin.  It never should have went as far as it did."

"Maybe." He leans forward, bringing his face closer to mine.  "But after everything, I think the least you could have done, was given me the chance to wake up next to you."

"Walking away from you, hurt less.  If I had waited, if I had spent that morning with you, I don't know how I would have been able to leave, and...I had to leave, Justin."  I shake my head and rub my eyes, clearing the new tears away.  "I had to live my life, and let you live yours."

"Or you were just too scared to see what could happen.  You could say that too, because you know that's the truth, Mags."  He flips the folders on the table closed.  "But this meeting isn't supposed to be about any of that, and I'm sorry."  He gathers everything up and slides himself out of his chair.  "I have a meeting with the judge in a couple of hours.  I'm going to push to get this thrown out of court before anything else can happen, or at the very least, get you released into my custody pending trial.  I'll keep you updated."

I watch him walk over to the door, partially defeated, but still keeping that professional confidence required of him.  "Justin."

He buzzes for the guard.  "I'll keep you updated."

"Justin, wait a second."

But he doesn't.  The door is opened, and with one small glance back at me, his eyes telling me that he's done talking about the other side of our lives, he leaves me there to be taken back to my cell.