Five Minutes

Fight the Good Fight

She slept.

And it wasn't because she wanted to drown out everything around her. It wasn't because she didn't want to be awake and not deal with her life. Or deal with the people around her.

She slept because she was tired. And she woke up well rested. More well rested than she'd felt in months.

Sadly, when she opened her eyes, the negative thoughts loomed over her mind once again. Sam's words still stung, quite bitterly.

She couldn't comprehend why Mel and Alana had apologized to her before, if they were going to speak about her to Sam. Were those apologies empty of sincerity? Why did they even text her that they were sorry if they didn't mean it? So she wouldn't stay irate?

Inhaling to take in the morning air, she turned over in bed to see the other side was empty, indicating that Ralston had risen earlier than her.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and swung her legs over the bed to stand. It took her a few minutes to wash her face and brush her teeth, after which she went downstairs.

Ralston had already prepared breakfast. The aroma of it became more prominent when she strolled into the kitchen.

Seeing two full plates on the table made her smile. "You didn't have to wait for me," she said. "You could have eaten."

"By myself?" Ralston asked.

Veronica hopped up on one of the stools and grabbed both the fork and knife that were placed on either side of her plate. Carefully, she cut into the mini quiche, taking a small bite and letting the taste evaporate in her mouth. Ralston had used a lot of spices, which she could detect by the rich flavour.

"This is good," she said.

He smiled weakly at her. Something about it seemed subdued, maybe even sad. It faded quickly.

"I went to check the mail today," he told her. He retrieved a piece of folded paper on the kitchen counter that Veronica hadn't noticed until now, handing it over to her.

She placed the cutlery on her plate and seized the paper, opening it up, her eyes frowning at the first sentence. This couldn't be real. "This is a restraining order," she snapped.  She didn't mean to sound angry, though she was sure Ralston knew she wasn't enraged at him specifically, but at the situation itself.

Ralston glanced down at his food. "I know."

"Daniel can't fucking do this!" Anytime she thought the man couldn't get any more despicable, he did something to successfully prove her wrong.

"Yeah, he can," Ralston said. "Nicky, I punched him in the face. I'm lucky he didn't press any other charges against me."

"This isn't fair. You did it because -" She stopped, pausing to collect her thoughts and calm herself down. "You had the right to."

"Who knows that?" Ralston asked. "No one does."

"We have to do something."

"What are we gonna do?"

She stared down at her food, wondering how to rectify the problem. It didn't seem right to her that Ralston was being punished by someone who knew exactly why he'd been so angry. Daniel proved to be a cunning and manipulative person. He was a smart man. He was a calculating man. Ralston didn't only punch him because he was making up lies about Veronica.

However, Veronica wondered if Daniel knew what he'd done was rape. Or did he know it was rape and think raping a vulnerable person wasn't wrong? But did it even matter? Whatever he construed it as, he still didn't see himself as a sexual predator. And he probably never would.

It dawned on her that she couldn't keep stalling or even pretend to be the woman she was before she got raped. She'd lost her agent, her friends, her reputation and now it was interfering with Ralston's life too.

"What I should have done months ago."

He stared at her, surprised. "But... are you even ready?"

"Yeah, I am."

________

Sitting inside a room with dark grey walls and dim lighting provided a badly ominous atmosphere that Veronica didn't like. She'd never been in a police station before.

Ralston kept insisting he could sit beside her while she spoke to the officer, but she said no. She wasn't even sure he was allowed to be in the room with her. Though she figured she needed to disclose it by herself.

Now that she was here, she regretted putting on that brave face.

She couldn't look the officer directly in the eyes. After the reactions she'd gotten from her friends, she foresaw the worst case scenario. That she'd be laughed at and her story would be dismissed.

The officer in the room was dark skinned, with light brown eyes and dark hair. Her last name was Cordeiro. That she was a woman provided comfort, but not much.

She had already laid out what happened to the officer. She'd initially thought that she could keep her composure, but the more she talked, the more difficult it got. And now silent tears poured down her face. She was still not looking Officer Cordeiro in the eyes.

"It happened five months ago," she said, sniffing. "I- I know I should have reported it then but I was scared and wanted to just... act like it didn't happen. I thought it would be so much easier." She pressed her eyes shut, feeling the tears again.

"What's important is that you're reporting it now," Officer Cordeiro said. There was such a soothing, believing tone in her voice.

Veronica finally looked up at her.

"Sometimes it does take months for a victim to come forward. It can take years or decades."

"So... you believe me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Officer Cordeiro asked. "I don't want to give you false hope. This is an extensive and complicated process. And you may not receive the result you want."

Veronica sniffed again and wiped the tears from her face.

"I think you're doing the right thing, but I still need to be certain... Do you want to proceed further with the investigation? Do you want to press charges?"

She didn't answer right away. She had to think. The amount of backlash she'd receive would be drastically worse if she went public.

But she had to do it. "Yeah," she replied. "I want to press charges against Daniel Sanders."