Ever Since New York [H.S]

Everything Will Be Alright

March 10th. A year has gone by since Harry's birthday marking today as our court date. I say our as Harry was and is involved in the whole Patrick dilemma just as much as I had been. Had it not been for Harry, I wouldn't be where I am today. I would have gone through with the wedding which would have given Patrick as he wanted. Thankfully, with the kindness of Harry's heart - he told me what was going on and stood by my side through it all. I could never be more thankful. "Hey." I heard a gentle voice speak in a calming manner as strong hands slipped around my waist. Harry. "Are you okay, love?" He asked quietly, resting his head against my shoulder after he pressed a soft kiss on the top of my forehead.

"Of course." I replied quietly, managing to turn around within his grip so that we were facing one another and slipped my arms up and around his neck. "Just thinking of how grateful I am for you. I would never be where I am today, in this position, had it not been for you." Harry didn't respond with much else other than a small I love you, instead he let his hand rub over the small of my back in a comforting manner. He knew how to make me feel better in the lowest of times. Harry encouraged me to have high hopes that everything would turn out in our favour. He even went above and beyond by seeking he best lawyer to stand for us in court, though, we still had to make an appearance and attend. I couldn't help still having some sort of uneasy feeling buried deep within my stomach. What if Patrick got away with it and didn't get the justice he rightfully deserves? That was my only doubt.

***

Attending a court house in these sorts of circumstances was never something I had imagined would happen to me. But, here I am; standing in front of the court house, beside the love of my life. Holding Harry's hand within mine, I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and in return he gave mine an encouraging squeeze.

Heading into the courthouse, we took our seats, getting back to our feet some time later when the judge entered. Returning to our seats when instructed to do so, I found myself zoning out. I vaguely remember the lawyer Harry had hired showing the courtroom the footage he'd shown at what should have been my wedding to Patrick, accompanied with the same set of photos he'd presented the guests with. There was a copy of the police report we'd filed the night Patrick showed up to my house uninvited and very drunk. Harry and I had both written statements to go with this that night as well. I hadn't realised until now just how much evidence we had against Patrick, and I was beginning to feel better about our chances. I didn't remember taking photos at the time when Patrick had destroyed my Nana's vase, but even they were presented to the judge and jury in support of our case as well.

Harry and I were both called to the stand, and each of us told the stories of how we'd met Patrick, and how he'd treated us. We told the truth, obviously, so our stories matched up. Patrick wasn't here to defend himself, I noticed, but Angela sat by Patrick's lawyer, head high and arms crossed in front of her. Once Harry and I had shared our stories, the judge excused us all for a brief recess, after which, he told us, Patrick would join the courtroom via a video stream from one of the local police station's interview rooms. Apparently, Patrick had been refused the opportunity to attend the hearing because he'd confessed to both his lawyer and psychologist that he would likely hurt both Harry and I if he was to see us. Both Patrick's lawyer and psychologist were legally and professionally obligated to report this in light of the court proceedings, and as such, relevant precautions had been put in place in the interest of my safety and Harry's.

Outside the courthouse, I turned to Harry. "What do we do about that threat?" I asked him. I'd began to shake, distressed by this whole experience for the first time. Harry handed his phone to me. It displayed our thread of text messages. He'd written a new one and not sent it. It read 'We moved, love; he has no idea where we live now, and no way of finding out, either. He doesn't even know the number plates to our cars any more either because I had them changed, too; remember?' I nodded, feeling relieved. Harry always had a plan. We were approached by the judge then who told me that if I'd prefer, I didn't have to sit in on Patrick's statement.

"Go let yourself in the car, love;" Harry suggested gently. "I'll sit in on it," he assured me.

"I'll be calling another recess once Mr Collins' statement has been presented to the jury so that they can make their decision," the judge informed us. "That would give you ample time to collect miss Edwards, Mr Styles, and bring her back into the courtroom for the verdict." They both turned to face me then, waiting for me to make my decision. I reached for the car keys Harry had previously offered me. The judge offered a sympathetic smile and turned to walk away, leaving Harry and I alone again.

Harry walked me to his car and held me for a moment before opening the door. "This will all be over soon, love," he promised. He leaned into the car and gave me a quick kiss. His eyes travelled back to the courthouse and he noticed the crowd seemed to be abandoning their recess in favour of returning to the hearing. "I'll be back out for you as soon as I can," he assured me. I just nodded, and Harry took my hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze before he shut the door of his car and walked back to the courthouse.

I was only by myself for roughly twenty minutes before Harry tapped on the window by my head. Though I'd been expecting Harry to come collect me, of course; I couldn't help jumping in my seat as his return pulled me from my thoughts. I'd enjoyed the time alone, surprisingly; it had been just long enough to process my feelings and thoughts without being consumed by the panic that fluttered within my chest. "What did he have to say for himself?" I asked quietly as Harry helped me from the car.

"Pretty much exactly what you'd expect," he informed me. "Blamed the alcohol for his violence and his unfaithfulness, as if that absolves him of everything." I rolled my eyes as we headed back towards the courthouse. "None of the jury looked too impressed by that," he went on, "so I like our chances." I nodded, feeling reassured. The jury's deliberation was not a long one, and within fifteen minutes they'd declared Patrick guilty as charged. The judge agreed and sentenced him as he saw fit. There was a restraining order placed against him on our behalf, and he was placed under house arrest for two years.