34. Nothing But The Truth
34
Nothing But The Truth
WINTER
For months on end, I waited for this day. Waited, obsessed, nearly lost my mind, all over this one moment. I feared the outcome of this trial—found myself constantly battling this voice in my head saying, “What if we lose?” —but let me tell you, what I thought I was going to feel is absolutely nothing compared to how I actually feel.
And that pit in my stomach, my heart’s annoying tendency to crawl up my throat? All thanks to the blue-eyed boy they’ll be calling to the stand soon.
When we stepped into the courtroom earlier, I was surprised to see it didn’t resemble my expectations in any way. Not sure where I picked up the high ceiling idea, but this is a rather small room, with no windows and cool white lights plastered to the ceiling.
The doors open.
Sitting with Jay, Kendrick, Judy, and Allie, I keep my gaze straight ahead of me. I don’t want to turn around because I know if I do, there’s a chance that I’ll see him. And I’m not particularly eager to get my heart ripped out of my chest today.
Allie’s eyes fly to the door before it even closes. She doesn’t say a word, just sends a glance my way. Her eyes apologize for something she didn’t do, and the second she covers my hand with hers, I know…
He’s here.
I’m thankful that I’m seated near the front. So thankful that, unless I intentionally turn around, I won’t catch a glimpse of him. Not until I’m absolutely forced to. The trial begins and I force myself to focus, but I can’t stop thinking about him sitting barely a few rows behind me.
As the plaintiff in this case, my father gets to present his witnesses first. It is explained that since Maika is legally under the age of reason, we decided it would be best for her to stay home with Harry’s father today.
First witness up is the mental health professional that was ordered by the judge to run a psychological evaluation on both my mother and father. She goes on to speak about Lauren’s poor evaluation results, how her mental health isn’t at its best—what a shock. Next is Harry’s mother, Claire, who recalls the night of the accident, confirms how my mother disappeared on us, talks about how she had to go retrieve Maika from a friend’s house herself. So far, things are going well. The evidence pointing to Lauren being an unfit parent keeps piling up. Only a mental case would allow a six-year-old to go home with her at the end of this.
Then they call for him.
When I hear his name, I regret never taking a class to learn how to breathe like a human. My pulse goes wild in my neck, and Allie’s hand finds mine. I appreciate her support more than she’ll ever know. I hear his footsteps approaching, see him walk to the front from the corner of my eye.
Then he’s up there.
Shit, I can’t do this.
My head hangs low. I stare at my shoes, count the seconds until this is over. It’s all I can do.
“Please raise your right hand.”
Maybe if I avoid looking at him this entire time, it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Like the boy who ripped me apart isn’t right in front of me.
“Do youswearto tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“I do.”
My entire body contracts at the sound of his voice.
How the fuck can a voice affect me this much?
He handles every question like a pro, carefully detailing the awful things Lauren told him when she was wasted the night of the accident. Even if recording someone without their knowledge, as long as you are yourself a part of the conversation, is legal in Canada, the recording was still rejected as evidence. He tells them about her admission to not loving me, her own daughter, to being disgusted by my existence, the whole shebang.
Then comes the time for Lauren’s side to counter-interrogate him.
“Mr. Adams, you said when you heard my client say these things, you were in a romantic relationship with Winter Kingston, Lauren Kingston’s daughter, correct?”
Kill.
Me.
Now.
“I was. But we’re not together anymore,” is all he says.
Can I please be anywhere else right now? Like anywhere else ?
“Is that so? Would you mind explaining why?”
“It’s complicated.” He shuts her off faster than a speeding bullet.
Do you think if I hold my breath long enough, I’ll faint?
“Which one of you exactly ended the relationship?”
“Which time?” Kendrick snickers quietly, and Allie elbows him.
“She did,” Haze says.
“When was that exactly?”
“Almost a year ago.”
“Okay. Any particular reason?”
Oh my God. Just drop it, lady!
He doesn’t reply right away. To think that if I wasn’t a complete pussy, I could see the look on his face right now. Is he staring at me? Is he half as messed up by this as I am?
“We just… wanted different things.”
I almost scoff.
Him: killing his sister’s murderer.
Me: rainbows, unicorn and happily ever after.
“Really? Are you sure there’s no other reason?”
He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I wasn’t good for her.”
“Is there a point to all this?” my father’s barrister snaps, and the judge shuts him up with one look.
“Did you or did you not know Winter Kingston had a rather complicated relationship with her mother, Lauren Kingston, when you were together?”
“If by complicated you mean that I knew Lauren treated Winter like sh…” He retracts himself. “Very poorly. Then yes, I knew.”
“And you also moved here for Miss Kingston last year?”
Lauren probably told her that.
“Yeah,” he admits.
“Wow, that’s a big move. Would you say you would have done anything for her? Put her above everyone else?”
A long silence.
She has no idea how ironic this is.
“Mr. Adams, I don’t need to remind you that you’re under oath, do I?” she presses when he doesn’t reply fast enough.
He caves. “Yes. I’d do anything for her.”
That’s when the last of my resolve shatters.
My head jerks up.
And our eyes meet.
He’s staring at me from across the room. Probably has been since the beginning. His blue eyes…
Motherfucking ouch.
“Even manipulate a situation to get revenge on a woman your girlfriend had big disagreements with?”
“Manipulate? What do you mean? I couldn’t have forced her to say those things.”
“Objection. Leading,” my dad’s barrister calls.
“I’ll rephrase. Mr. Adams, do you love Winter Kingston?”
An unbearably heavy silence descends over us. I squeeze Allie’s hand so tight it must hurt, but she doesn’t flinch.
“I’m sorry. I really don’t see what’s the point of this.” He glances around nervously.
“Answer the question, please,” the judge says.
“It’s really not that hard of a question. Are you, Haze Adams, in love with Winter Kingston? Yes or no?”
He lets out a long sigh, staring down at his hands for a second too long.
His gaze finds its way back to me.
I wait for what feels like five years before he speaks again.
“Yes.”
Brain malfunction.
“Even after all this time? After you’ve been broken up for a year?” she asks.
He pauses, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Always.”
Fuck.
“So, let me get this straight: you moved to another country for this girl, left your entire life behind, said yourself that you would do absolutely anything for her, and just admitted to still loving her long after the relationship ended. And you’re telling me you just happened to conveniently hear the woman your girlfriend had the most problems with say all these things?”
“It sounds bad when you say it like that, but it’s—”
“Is anything I just said wrong?”
“You’re twisting everything. I’m not—”
“Answer the question. Am I wrong?” she insists.
“But—”
She raises her voice. “Am I wrong?”
“No!” he snaps.
A crooked, victorious smile covers the woman’s face.
“Thank you. That will be all.” She turns on her heels and edges her way back to Lauren. My father’s head drops between his hands. This is exactly what she wanted him to say. She wanted him to discredit himself, to make it seem like his claims could not be taken seriously. She wanted to reduce his testimony to garbage. And she did just that.
I’ve never been so conflicted in my life.
Did he mean that?
Haze gets off the stand, walking back to his seat, and it takes everything in me not to turn around and watch. The trial carries on. Numbers concerning Lauren are splattered onto the judge’s plate: her low income, her hectic work schedule, you name it, they have it. I dare a gaze toward my mother. I haven’t seen her once since my father kicked her out ten months ago. She looks composed, confident in her ability to win this, and it only allows doubt to dig deeper into my skin.
“May 12, 2002. 3:14 a.m. Winter Kingston, three years old, was spotted by a neighbor playing alone outside of the building she resided at. He called the police, convinced that her parents had lost her. He was wrong. Her mother was having a party in their one-bedroom apartment and didn’t notice that her kid had walked off. Social services looked further into this and considered taking Winter away unless her mother provided her with a stable, safe, and loving environment. Which she was only able to provide when she married Mr. Gale a matter of days later. If he hadn’t been in the picture, odds are Winter Kingston would’ve grown up in foster care. This simple fact alone should tell you everything you need to know.”
The judge’s face remains unreadable.
“Winter Kingston also dropped out of school to tend to her father, who was injured in a hit-and-run near a year ago. She had to care for the household when her mother never showed up after her husband’s accident, which, may I remind you, is the day Haze Adams dropped by the family house and found her highly intoxicated. Leaving a fourteen-year-old kid unattended after he was just in an accident and possibly lost his father, not to mention neglecting to go pick up her five-year-old daughter, doesn’t exactly scream good parenting to me. Does it to you?”
I’m trying, with every fiber of my being, to focus, but my mind is tirelessly fighting out of its cage, desperate to wander back to Haze. I can’t stop hearing his voice as he says that he loves me.
He can’t. He can’t still love me.
I don’t still love him.
I could never.
Not after everything.
Right?
I can’t deal with this right now. No matter what he just said up there. No matter if he meant it.
Today is about Maika.
When we’re given a much-deserved break, I’m the first one out of the door. At the end of this wait… is the answer to our question: Will Lauren get to take Maika home?
Matt: On my way. So sorry I couldn’t make it to the first half.
I read Matt’s text quickly. Not going to lie, I’m thankful he wasn’t there to hear Haze say those things. He’s asked me about my ex multiple times before, but I only told him the bare minimum. That Haze broke my heart. Desperate to get a bit of fresh air—and also to avoid running into Haze inside—I step out of the building and sit on the cold stone stairs. I text Matt back and decide I should head back inside when…
“Hey.”
I hate my life.
Sensing his presence behind me, I curse under my breath and turn around. He’s standing one step higher than me. I didn’t get to take in his outfit earlier. He’s wearing a long-sleeve button-down white shirt and a black tie. Hard, tight, sculpted body? Still here. Piercing gaze? Check. His brown hair is a gorgeous mess, his skin glowing with a natural tan. His hands slip into his pockets as he stares at me with his damn puppy eyes.
Why couldn’t he just have turned ugly this past year?
“Hey,” I breathe out.
“How are you?”
Nope. Not doing this.
“Why did you do that?” I cut to the chase.
“Why did I do what?” He plays dumb.
“You know what.”
Did you mean it?
“You mean tell the truth when I was under oath?”
“Why are you here?” I change the topic, tossing what he just said right out of my brain . Just words, nothing else.
“Because this might be your only shot at getting your sister back.”
“Bullshit. You could’ve said no. You wanted to be here. Why?”
He moves closer to the edge of the step, and his cologne reaches me.
Get back. I don’t want to remember your scent. I don’t want to miss it.
I don’t want to miss you.
“Maybe I wanted to see you,” he says huskily.
I go down a step.
He does, too.
I scoff. “After all this time? You choose now to want to see me?” Intending to walk away, I climb back up a step, but as soon as we’re at the same level, he circles my wrist with his hand and tugs me straight into his chest.
“Winter, wait.” His gaze descends to my lips. “Please.”
Oh my God, shut the fuck up, heart.
“I really want to catch up,” he says like I didn’t just tell him to go screw himself. “How have you been?”
I’m careful to avoid looking directly into his eyes. “I’m good, Haze. I’m fabulous. Never been better. Now I know you didn’t just come here out of the kindness of your heart. Tell me what you want?”
He arches an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”
“Yes. What do you want?”
He leans forward, his breath fanning my cheek.
“You.”
I swear I almost fall down the narrow step.
“There you are!”
I’ve never backed away from someone faster.
“Matt. You’re… here.” Why is there disappointment in my voice?
“Hey, gorgeous.” He climbs up the stairs.
“What took you so long, babe?”
Ugh. Did I just call him babe? I never, ever call him babe. I just said it in front of Haze to clarify that I’m dating Matt. He frowns at the nickname but doesn’t question it. I kiss him on the cheek, and he wraps one arm around me for a quick embrace. All I want to do when he presses his lips to my forehead is watch out for Haze’s reaction.
Haze’s eyes are cold, empty. Like he’s doing everything in his power to hide how he’s feeling, but I know him too well to buy the fake facade he portrays. That hurt.
“Matt, this is Haze,” I say politely.
“Nice to meet you.” Matt holds out his hand, but Haze doesn’t shake it—doesn’t even consider shaking it. He raises a challenging eyebrow at him.
“So that’s my replacement, huh?”
“Excuse me?” Matt frowns.
With a shit-eating grin, Haze says, “You downgraded.”
I’m going to kill him.
“Haze!” I scold.
Matt’s eyes light up in realization. “Is this…”
“The boyfriend? Yup. Took you long enough,” Haze says.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I correct. “You know the one I told you about? The guy I’m never getting back with?”
The cocky smile is instantly slapped off Haze’s face.
“Really, Winter? Matthew Connor? I thought you had better taste.”
“Wait… You know him?” I frown.
“Know of him. Our parents used to do business together. He’s an asshole.”
“We’re leaving.” I grip Matt’s arm to pull him away but…
“Hold on. Haze, was it? I’ve heard that name somewhere. Wait. Haze as in Haze Adams? You’re the kid Adams Inc. disowned, aren’t you?”
Haze doesn’t deny it, nor confirm it.
“How’s it feel being rejected by your own parents?”
Baffled, I eye Matt. Where did that come from?
“You want to repeat that, see what happens?” Haze says through gritted teeth, going all alpha male as he steps dangerously close to Matt. The vein that always pops out in his neck when he’s angry captures my attention.
“Okay. Good chat.” I practically have to shove Matt back inside the building before the situation degenerates. Matt proceeds to bash Haze for the next twenty minutes.
When we we’re informed of the trial picking up again, I push all Haze-related thoughts out of my head.
“I’ve come to a decision,” the judge says.
If I thought these words were stressful in movies, I’d obviously never experienced them in real life. With my heart thumping against my rib cage, I assess the complete stranger whose next sentence will affect my entire family. Matt intertwines our fingers to display his support.
“I believe young parents can sometimes make mistakes, and it doesn’t have to define who they are for the rest of their lives. Ms. Kingston, leaving your three-year-old alone outside didn’t define you.”
The air escapes my lungs. Lauren’s lips quirk into a smile.
No, it can’t be.
Don’t tell me this excuse of a woman gets to keep her child.
“What defined you is everything after.”
Wait, what?
“I don’t believe Lauren Kingston to be a fit parent for Maika Gale at this time and therefore give full custody to her father, Harry Gale.”
He then grants Lauren visitation rights but only if supervised by a social worker. He also says there is a way to revisit the custody arrangements if my mother agrees to go to therapy weekly for a year and gets herself checked into some alcohol treatment facility, but let’s be honest, that’s just to be politically correct. The chances of her actually going through with it are slim. I try to listen as he lists more and more conditions, but truth be told, none of it registers.
We won.
We won.
I hold no control over my body when Jay, my father, Judy, and I give in to the cliché family hug we see in the movies.
Except that this is better than movies.
This is real.
And tomorrow, at Kendrick’s birthday… We’ll actually have something to celebrate.