19. One Year
Chapter nineteen
One Year
The two weeks before Miko’s hearing moved faster than she expected.
There were phone calls to make, documents to complete, bills to organize, and decisions she had never imagined making. Every ordinary responsibility suddenly became urgent because Miko didn’t know when she would be able to handle it again.
She met with Attorney Daniels three times. Each meeting ended with the same conclusion. Accepting the agreement would mean serving one year. Rejecting it would mean taking a chance in court and possibly receiving a longer sentence.
Neither choice felt like freedom.
Attorney Daniels requested that Miko be allowed to surrender at a later date if the judge accepted the agreement. That would give her additional time to arrange her personal affairs, but he repeatedly warned her that the request could be denied.
“You need to enter that courtroom prepared for the possibility that you may not come home that day,” he told her.
Miko nodded, but she wasn’t sure anyone could truly prepare for that.
At work, she requested a private meeting with her supervisor. She didn’t share every detail of the case. She explained only that she was facing a legal matter that could require an extended absence.
Her supervisor listened carefully. “How long would you be gone?”
“Possibly one year.”
The surprise on her supervisor’s face was immediate. “One year?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know when?”
“My hearing is next Monday.”
Her supervisor looked down at the papers on the desk. “Miko, I can’t promise that we can hold your position that long.”
“I understand.”
“We’ll have to review the policy and speak with Human Resources.”
“I understand.”
The words became Miko’s automatic response.
I understand.
She understood that her job might not be waiting. She understood that her apartment still required payment. She understood that everyone else’s lives would continue while hers was placed on hold.
Understanding didn’t make any of it easier.
When Miko returned to her desk, Meca looked at her. She didn’t ask what happened in the meeting. She waited until Miko sat down and sent her a message.
Meca: Are you okay?
Miko stared at the familiar question.
Miko: No.
A few seconds later, Meca stood and walked toward the restroom. Miko waited before following her.
Meca was standing near the sinks when Miko entered.
“What happened?” Meca asked.
“They can’t promise to hold my job.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I knew that was probably going to happen.”
“Knowing doesn’t make it hurt less.”
Miko looked at herself in the mirror. “I worked hard for this job.”
“You did.”
“And now I could lose it in one conversation.”
“You can rebuild your career.”
“What if nobody hires me after this?”
“One thing at a time, Miko.”
“That’s easy for everybody else to say.”
Meca stepped closer. “You’re right. I’m not the one facing the sentence.”
Miko immediately regretted her tone. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.”
“I’m scared.”
“You have every right to be.”
Miko looked at her. “Will you come to court?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“What if they take me that day?”
“Then I’ll make sure whatever you leave behind is handled the way you asked.”
Miko’s eyes filled with tears. “Why are you doing all this?”
“Because I told you that you wouldn’t face this alone.”
Miko reached for her hand.
For a moment, they stood in the restroom holding hands, surrounded by everything they still hadn’t resolved.
Their relationship remained complicated.
But Meca’s support wasn’t.
That evening, Jayson came to Miko’s apartment. He looked uncomfortable as he sat on the couch, as if he didn’t know what to say without making the situation worse.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back that day,” he said.
“You could’ve called when you finished working.”
“I know.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“You could’ve said that.”
Jayson looked down. “You’re right.”
Miko had waited for him to offer an explanation, but hearing it didn’t make her feel better. She needed more than words now. She needed to know what he intended to do when her situation became difficult.
“My hearing is Monday,” she said.
“I know.”
“Are you coming?”
Jayson rubbed his hands together. “I have appointments scheduled.”
Miko stared at him. “Cancel them.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Miko, Monday is one of my busiest days.”
“I could be taken into custody.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are we discussing haircuts?”
Jayson stood and began pacing. “I’m trying to keep money coming in. You know how many people depend on me at the shop.”
“I’m asking you for one day.”
“And I’m telling you I’m trying to move things around.”
Miko looked away.
Jayson sat beside her again. “I’m going to be there.”
“You just said—”
“I said I’m trying to move things around. I’ll figure it out.”
Miko nodded slowly.
Jayson reached for her hand. “And if you have to do the year, I’ll be here when you get out.”
The words should have comforted her.
Instead, something about them felt distant.
Maybe it was the hesitation before he promised to attend the hearing. Maybe it was the memory of waiting for a call that never came. Or maybe Miko was beginning to understand that Jayson meant what he said in the moment, even when he lacked a plan for carrying it through.
“You promise?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Miko looked into his eyes.
She wanted to believe him.
But for the first time, believing Jayson required more effort than loving him.
The night before the hearing, Meca stayed with Miko and helped her finish packing a small bag. Attorney Daniels had given her instructions about what she could bring if she were taken into custody.
Miko folded and unfolded the same shirt several times.
“You’ve already packed that,” Meca said.
“I know.”
“You want me to do it?”
“No.”
Meca sat on the bed. “Then stop folding it.”
Miko placed the shirt inside the bag and sat beside her. “This doesn’t feel real.”
“I know.”
“What if I panic in court?”
“Look at me.”
“What?”
“If you feel yourself panicking, find me and look at me.”
Miko nodded.
“Breathe slowly and listen to your attorney,” Meca continued. “You don’t have to solve the entire year tomorrow. You only have to make it through tomorrow.”
Miko leaned her head against Meca’s shoulder. “Will you write me?”
“Yes.”
“Will you answer when I call?”
“Yes.”
“Will you visit?”
“If I’m allowed.”
Miko lifted her head. “You’re not saying ‘I’ll try.’”
“No.”
“You’re just saying yes.”
“Because I mean yes.”
Miko looked at her. “What about us?”
Meca was quiet.
“I know this isn’t the right time,” Miko continued, “but I need to know.”
“You need to know what?”
“If there will still be an us.”
Meca took Miko’s hand. “I don’t know what either of us will be like after a year.”
Miko looked down.
“But I know what I’m willing to do during that year,” Meca said. “I’ll write. I’ll answer your calls. I’ll visit when I can, and I’ll make sure you know you haven’t been forgotten.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes.”
Miko squeezed her hand.
Meca didn’t promise that their relationship would survive unchanged. She didn’t promise that time and distance wouldn’t affect them. She promised only what she could control.
For Miko, that honesty meant more than false certainty.
The following morning, Miko dressed slowly. She chose a simple dark outfit and pulled her hair away from her face. Before leaving the apartment, she walked through each room one final time.
Everything looked normal.
Her coffee cup sat beside the sink. Her shoes were lined up near the bedroom closet. A blanket remained folded across the back of the couch.
It was difficult to accept that she might not see those ordinary things again for months.
Meca drove her to the courthouse.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” Miko said as they entered the building.
“I know.”
Attorney Daniels met them outside the courtroom. He reviewed the agreement one final time and reminded Miko of the risks.
“If the judge asks whether you understand, answer clearly,” he said.
Miko nodded.
She looked down the hallway.
Jayson wasn’t there.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Meca checked her phone. “Nine fifteen.”
The hearing was scheduled for nine thirty.
“He said he was coming.”
“He still has time.”
At nine twenty-five, the courtroom doors opened.
Jayson still hadn’t arrived.
Miko followed her attorney inside. Meca sat in the row behind her.
When Miko’s case was called, she stood on unsteady legs and walked forward. The judge reviewed the agreement and asked a series of questions.
“Do you understand the terms?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Has anyone forced or threatened you to accept this agreement?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Do you understand that the agreement includes a sentence of one year?”
Miko swallowed. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Attorney Daniels requested a delayed surrender date. He explained that Miko needed time to finalize her housing, employment, and personal responsibilities.
The prosecutor objected.
The judge listened to both sides before looking at Miko.
“The court recognizes that incarceration creates significant personal hardship,” the judge said. “However, the court finds no sufficient basis to delay execution of the sentence.”
Miko stopped breathing.
Attorney Daniels placed a hand near her arm. “Breathe,” he whispered.
Miko turned slightly and found Meca sitting behind her.
Meca held her gaze.
Breathe.
Miko inhaled slowly.
“The agreement is accepted,” the judge continued. “The defendant is sentenced to a term of one year and is remanded into custody effective immediately.”
The sound of the gavel seemed louder than everything else in the room.
One year.
It was no longer an offer.
It was her sentence.
An officer approached and instructed Miko to place her hands behind her back. She looked toward the courtroom doors one last time.
Jayson rushed inside just as the officer secured the handcuffs.
“Miko!”
She turned toward him.
He had come.
But he was late.
“I’m sorry,” Jayson said. “I got here as fast as I could.”
Miko wanted to believe him. She wanted his presence to erase the fact that he had missed the moment her life changed.
“I’ll be here when you get out,” he promised.
His voice echoed through the courtroom.
Miko looked at him, but the promise felt as uncertain as it had the first time.
Then she looked at Meca.
Meca didn’t shout across the room or make a promise for everyone to hear. She simply placed her hand over her heart and nodded.
Miko understood.
I’m here.
The officer began leading her away.
Miko looked back once more at the two people who had occupied so much of her heart.
Jayson stood near the courtroom entrance, still catching his breath.
Meca remained seated, fighting tears while holding Miko’s gaze.
The door closed between them.
For the first time, Miko had no control over where she was going, when she would return, or who would still be waiting when she did.
Her sentence was one year.
But the true measure of that year would not be counted only in days.
It would be counted in calls answered, letters written, visits made, and promises kept.