Chapter 13
Harding~
I had no choice; I was going to have to call the police, and it really was getting harder and harder to sympathize with whatever Paige was going through.
When my mother had called me earlier about Paige ambushing her at the grocery store, it’d been hard not to lose my shit. I’d just spent all day at work, pretending that everyone hadn’t already known what a shitshow my life was right now, so I’d already felt on edge. While the guys had been good about not giving me any shit, it’d still been embarrassing as fuck to have to face them, and my only saving grace was that we’d all been busy enough for the day to fly by.
At any rate, when my mother had called to tell me what Paige had done, it’d taken everything in me not to drive to the house and confront Paige. Harassing people through texts and phone calls was one thing, but actually approaching my mother was crossing a line that I couldn’t ignore, no matter how guilty I felt for starting this mess. While I felt certain that Paige wasn’t brave enough to confront anyone physically, that still didn’t make me feel any better. People could only take so much, and the last thing that anyone needed was to have to bail my mother out of jail for popping my soon-to-be-ex-wife in the mouth.
So, now I was waiting for the police to show up, and I felt like a fool as I waited outside the police station to speak with them. By the time that my mother had finished telling me what Paige had done, time had officially fallen into the after-hours portion of the day, so I had arranged to meet them in the parking lot of the building. I had no idea how long I was going to have to stay at the hotel, and I didn’t want to be asked to leave by bringing the police onto the premises. No matter how expensive the hotel, shady shit was always going down, so no one appreciated any kind of police presence on the scene.
As I waited for them to meet me, my phone rang, and seeing Trista’s name flashing across the screen, I immediately answered it. I hadn’t told her about my mother’s run-in with Paige yet because I’d been hoping to help the situation by being able to tell her that I’d finally called the police.
“Hey, I-”
“I’m done,” she snapped into the phone. “I’m so fucking done with that bitch, Harding.”
“Whoa, hold up,” I rushed out. “What happened?”
“I don’t know how she’s getting their numbers and information, but she sent messages to my mother, my boss, and the police just left my goddamn house.”
“What? What were the police doing there?”
“She reported my car as a hit and run,” she hissed, and I’d never heard her this angry before. “She made up some bogus accident, and so they came to check for any damage on my car.”
“Jesus Christ,” I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair.
“Look, I understand that I deserve this woman’s scorn, but I am not going to let her get away with harassing my family, Harding. I’m also not going to let that bitch terrorize me.”
“Trista-”
“You call her and tell her that I will meet her anywhere, anytime.”
“Whoa, there’s no need for that,” I quickly rushed out. “In fact, I’m here at the police station, waiting on them to finally file a report against her.”
Trista was silent for a second before asking, “What else did she do?”
“She ambushed my mom at the grocery store earlier,” I answered.
I heard her let out a deep breath, and she sounded as tired as I felt. “Harding, this is not okay. I get that we wronged her and that she has a right to be upset, but she’s taking things too fucking far.”
“I don’t disagree,” I assured her. “That’s why I’m finally meeting with the police.”
She let out another sigh before saying, “Call me when you’re done speaking with them.”
I shook my head as she hung up on me, wondering if speaking to the police was even going to help. Paige was spiraling out of control, and I had no idea if it was even possible to pull her back. Used to always being in control, this was a situation that wasn’t falling in line with what she wanted, and so she was reacting like most narcissists that were no longer calling the shots.
My mind started skipping down memory lane, and I felt so stupid over how blind I’d been. I’d seen her as helpful, giving, and outgoing. Whenever she would overstep, she would explain it away so effortlessly that I’d had no choice but to believe her. I’d lost count of how many times I had defended her against my friends and family, and each memory made me feel like such a fool. She’d been rude and pushy, and I’d been too enamored to recognize it for what it’d been. Then she’d turn on the waterworks whenever someone put her in her place, and I’d be so upset for her.
Paige had spent the entire five years of our relationship criticizing, gossiping, judging, and meddling in people’s lives, and all the while, she’d done it under the guise of being a good Christian that was only trying to help others.
God, I’d been such a fucking fool.
The sound of a vehicle pulling up snapped me out of my regrets, and when I saw two officers getting out of a patrol car, I almost groaned when I saw that one of them was a woman. Since we were all human, I imagined that she wasn’t going to feel too sympathetic to my problems, and all I could do was hope that she was professional enough to still do her job.
“Mr. Rice?”
I nodded as I reached out to shake the male officer’s hand. “Yes.”
Dropping my hand, he said, “I’m Officer Boone, and this is Officer Clinton.” Just like in the movies, they pulled their little notepads out before he added, “Now, tell us what’s going on.”
I let out a deep breath before telling them every single embarrassing detail of these past few days. I also didn’t leave anything out. Part of taking responsibility for what I’d done was to be completely transparent in trying to clean up this mess.
When I was finished with telling them everything, Officer Boone said, “You do realize that most of this can’t be proven, right?”
I nodded. “I’m aware.”
“Even the phone calls could be argued that it was someone that sounded like her,” he went on. “It will be almost impossible to prove that she’s behind all this. Even the encounter with your mother is a she said/she said situation. While cameras and witnesses can prove that your wife was the one to approach your mother, what was said during their conversation can’t be proven.”
“I know that,” I replied tiredly. “However, since I don’t know what she’s capable of doing next, I thought it’d be a good idea to report what she’s done so far. I never imagined that she’d confront my mother at the grocery store, nor report a false claim of a hit and run.”
“Do you believe that she’s dangerous?” Officer Clinton asked, finally speaking.
“I don’t want to believe it, but I honestly don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “If you had asked me a week ago if I thought that she was capable of harassing innocent people, I would have said no.”
“Is there any chance of you reconciling with her?” Officer Clinton asked, her dark gaze trying to read me.
“No. Absolutely not,” I told her. “Even if there’d been a chance before, there isn’t one now. I can’t look past everything that she’s done.”
“We’ll speak with her,” Officer Clinton announced. “We’ll let her know that what she’s doing falls under the legal cause of civil harassment and a case could even be made for domestic harassment since the two of you are married.”
“Can I get a restraining order on her?” I asked, feeling like a bit of a pussy.
“You can try,” Officer Boone answered. “However, because nothing can be proven, a judge might dismiss it as non-criminal at this time.”
“I just…I just want her to leave my family alone,” I told them honestly. “I want this to remain between me and her, and I want her to just leave everyone else be.”
“Does your girlfriend still have the text about her children?” Officer Clinton asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then maybe she can try to get the restraining order,” she suggested. “Restraining orders are public record and come up on background checks. If she’s made aware that a restraining order may be filed against her, it might scare her some.”
“At this point, I’ll try anything,” I admitted.
“Can you give us her work schedule, so that we can arrange to speak with her?” Officer Boone asked.
“She works Monday through Friday at Serenity Manor on Linder Street,” I answered. “Her shift starts at eight and ends at five. Normally, she goes straight home after work, but with everything going on right now, I have no idea what she does after work now. I haven’t been home since I told her everything.”
“Well, to let you know, this is our Friday, and this is not considered a legal emergency,” Officer Boone stated evenly. “So, we will share our notes during our shift pass down and let our fellow officers know to be on the lookout in case something else happens.”
In other words, my problems could wait.