She was lost in thought, but not vacant or detached. I was happy with that, and the fact she didn’t need my help but only my presence to pull her from the debilitating fear that took hold of her thanks to that ass**le father of hers opening his mouth.
She blew through her first drink in minutes, and I found myself shoving the chips and salsa at her before I had a drunk on my hands. After all, I had plans.
“Baby, you need to slow down.”
Her eyes flipped up, almost as if she was just noticing me, and her lips twitched. “Sorry, it’s just been a…day.”
I nodded. “Lots of highs and lows.”
She blew out a breath and dipped a chip in the queso I ordered. Her teeth bit into the edge, nibbling on it instead of stuffing it in her mouth.
“What would’ve happened to me?” She tilted her head at me.
I knew the answer, a little too well for my liking. Her inquisitive eyes bore into me. I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat.
“Nothing good, and everything bad.” I took the ice off to look at my hand, flexing my fingers as I determined nothing was broken—just inflamed and sore.
She thought on what I said for a moment. I almost didn’t know what to do with her reactions—they weren’t normal for her.
“I never would’ve gotten free, would I?”
I shook my head. “Only by death.”
She hummed in agreement. My jaw flexed. I was not comfortable with this conversation. The thought of her continuing on that path was excruciating.
“I know you called Joan, and she got you out of the house, but how? Why didn’t you call Social Services?”
She sighed. “I didn’t know at the time. I only knew I could be emancipated from him and you needed a lawyer for that.”
“There was no way a judge would have agreed, and you would have continued living with him through that process.”
She nodded. “I was only sixteen—I didn’t know anything, only that I had to get away.”
The waiter chose that moment to arrive with our food. My stomach rumbled with the wonderful sizzling smell coming from my fajitas. I dove in, waiting for her to gather her thoughts while she cut up her food.
“Joan arrived at the school not two hours after I called her. I’d found her number in a phone book in the library that morning.” She cut into her chimichanga and took a bite. “When she arrived, I was called into the principal’s office. The moment she saw me, she started yelling at him for no one noticing what was going on.” She stared down at her food for a moment, thinking as she cut off another bite and ate it. “The principal was friends with my father and told her I was just clumsy and shy. That set her off. His inaction ultimately led to him losing his job.”
My brow rose in surprise and satisfaction. “Which was well deserved. He should’ve known the signs. Friend or not, he took an oath to protect his students.”
She nodded. “My father was a charismatic man of the community—they never knew the man he hid behind closed doors or the disdain he had for me. He painted them a pretty little picture, and if I did anything to mess it up, there was hell to pay.” She took a long pull of her margarita. “That all changed that night after Joan arrived at the house with Social Services.”
“I didn’t know they worked that fast.”
“They did after Joan showed them the damage. My bruises were fading, but still very visible. She took me into the nurse’s office, had me take off my shirt, and took photos of it all. After developing them that afternoon, she took them to a judge along with my medical records, and I was pulled.”
“I’m so happy you had the courage to contact her. Otherwise… I don’t like the alternative future you would’ve endured.”
“Me, either.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I never would have met you.”
We stopped conversation, both needing a moment to decompress and eat. After I finished stuffing myself with fajitas, I placed the ice back on my hand and looked down at my watch. Time was passing a little too fast.
I reached across the table and took her hand. “So, what do we do now?”
She shrugged. “No idea. Go back to the office?”
I shook my head and smiled. “No, Honeybear.” I laughed. “First off, you’ve been drinking. Second… What does everyone say when they win something?” She quirked her brow at me, then looked at me like I was insane. “I’m going to Disneyworld!”
She stared at me, her brow scrunched. “What?”
I sighed and took her hand in mine. “We’re going to Disneyworld.”
She continued to stare at me, possibly wondering if I’d gotten another lobotomy. “Huh?”
“Delilah Thorne, you and I are flying down to Orlando in four hours and spending the rest of the week at Disneyworld.”
She blinked at me. “But we have work.”
She was still confused, and I tried not to laugh. Then again, I did broadside her. “No, we took the week off for the trial, remember? We weren’t sure how long it would go.”
Her head tilted. “So…we’re going to Disneyworld?”
My lip twitched—she was catching on. “Yes.”
“Really?” The confusion cleared from her face and was replaced by disbelief.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“But how did you know we’d be done today?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how? I’ve been with you this whole time.”
“Mom had it all waiting in the wings with her travel agent for me. When we were leaving the courthouse she called her, and the agent texted me our flight information.”
“We’re going to Disneyworld? Now?”
I laughed, unable to keep it in any longer. “Yes, we’re going to Disneyworld.”
Her eyes widened and she bounced in her seat. “Oh, my God! We’re going to Disneyworld!”
“Now, that is the reaction I was expecting.”
She jumped up. “We need to get packed!”
We headed home and began to pack like maniacs on the run. I pulled out a few pairs of shorts and t-shirts and threw them in a small suitcase. Lila was flipping clothes everywhere into a larger suitcase. She was a planner, so the sudden need to pack was driving her a little insane and she was over-packing.
“How long will we be there?” She stared down at the pile of sundresses she pulled from the closet.
She blew through her first drink in minutes, and I found myself shoving the chips and salsa at her before I had a drunk on my hands. After all, I had plans.
“Baby, you need to slow down.”
Her eyes flipped up, almost as if she was just noticing me, and her lips twitched. “Sorry, it’s just been a…day.”
I nodded. “Lots of highs and lows.”
She blew out a breath and dipped a chip in the queso I ordered. Her teeth bit into the edge, nibbling on it instead of stuffing it in her mouth.
“What would’ve happened to me?” She tilted her head at me.
I knew the answer, a little too well for my liking. Her inquisitive eyes bore into me. I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat.
“Nothing good, and everything bad.” I took the ice off to look at my hand, flexing my fingers as I determined nothing was broken—just inflamed and sore.
She thought on what I said for a moment. I almost didn’t know what to do with her reactions—they weren’t normal for her.
“I never would’ve gotten free, would I?”
I shook my head. “Only by death.”
She hummed in agreement. My jaw flexed. I was not comfortable with this conversation. The thought of her continuing on that path was excruciating.
“I know you called Joan, and she got you out of the house, but how? Why didn’t you call Social Services?”
She sighed. “I didn’t know at the time. I only knew I could be emancipated from him and you needed a lawyer for that.”
“There was no way a judge would have agreed, and you would have continued living with him through that process.”
She nodded. “I was only sixteen—I didn’t know anything, only that I had to get away.”
The waiter chose that moment to arrive with our food. My stomach rumbled with the wonderful sizzling smell coming from my fajitas. I dove in, waiting for her to gather her thoughts while she cut up her food.
“Joan arrived at the school not two hours after I called her. I’d found her number in a phone book in the library that morning.” She cut into her chimichanga and took a bite. “When she arrived, I was called into the principal’s office. The moment she saw me, she started yelling at him for no one noticing what was going on.” She stared down at her food for a moment, thinking as she cut off another bite and ate it. “The principal was friends with my father and told her I was just clumsy and shy. That set her off. His inaction ultimately led to him losing his job.”
My brow rose in surprise and satisfaction. “Which was well deserved. He should’ve known the signs. Friend or not, he took an oath to protect his students.”
She nodded. “My father was a charismatic man of the community—they never knew the man he hid behind closed doors or the disdain he had for me. He painted them a pretty little picture, and if I did anything to mess it up, there was hell to pay.” She took a long pull of her margarita. “That all changed that night after Joan arrived at the house with Social Services.”
“I didn’t know they worked that fast.”
“They did after Joan showed them the damage. My bruises were fading, but still very visible. She took me into the nurse’s office, had me take off my shirt, and took photos of it all. After developing them that afternoon, she took them to a judge along with my medical records, and I was pulled.”
“I’m so happy you had the courage to contact her. Otherwise… I don’t like the alternative future you would’ve endured.”
“Me, either.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I never would have met you.”
We stopped conversation, both needing a moment to decompress and eat. After I finished stuffing myself with fajitas, I placed the ice back on my hand and looked down at my watch. Time was passing a little too fast.
I reached across the table and took her hand. “So, what do we do now?”
She shrugged. “No idea. Go back to the office?”
I shook my head and smiled. “No, Honeybear.” I laughed. “First off, you’ve been drinking. Second… What does everyone say when they win something?” She quirked her brow at me, then looked at me like I was insane. “I’m going to Disneyworld!”
She stared at me, her brow scrunched. “What?”
I sighed and took her hand in mine. “We’re going to Disneyworld.”
She continued to stare at me, possibly wondering if I’d gotten another lobotomy. “Huh?”
“Delilah Thorne, you and I are flying down to Orlando in four hours and spending the rest of the week at Disneyworld.”
She blinked at me. “But we have work.”
She was still confused, and I tried not to laugh. Then again, I did broadside her. “No, we took the week off for the trial, remember? We weren’t sure how long it would go.”
Her head tilted. “So…we’re going to Disneyworld?”
My lip twitched—she was catching on. “Yes.”
“Really?” The confusion cleared from her face and was replaced by disbelief.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“But how did you know we’d be done today?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how? I’ve been with you this whole time.”
“Mom had it all waiting in the wings with her travel agent for me. When we were leaving the courthouse she called her, and the agent texted me our flight information.”
“We’re going to Disneyworld? Now?”
I laughed, unable to keep it in any longer. “Yes, we’re going to Disneyworld.”
Her eyes widened and she bounced in her seat. “Oh, my God! We’re going to Disneyworld!”
“Now, that is the reaction I was expecting.”
She jumped up. “We need to get packed!”
We headed home and began to pack like maniacs on the run. I pulled out a few pairs of shorts and t-shirts and threw them in a small suitcase. Lila was flipping clothes everywhere into a larger suitcase. She was a planner, so the sudden need to pack was driving her a little insane and she was over-packing.
“How long will we be there?” She stared down at the pile of sundresses she pulled from the closet.
