Verboten

Chapter 23: Finalé

Amelia's POV:

Damien was free; innocent of a crime we committed. I didn't feel guilty of cheating the system, perhaps because I - personally - didn't perceive what we had as a said crime.

David didn't lie about being one of the best lawyers in the US. He managed to untangle us from this mess as slyly as possible leaving minimal legal casualties behind - he really did do his part - but beyond what meets the eyes, endless emotional casualties were lying behind in our path.

He proved that we didn't get sexually involved, even backing it up with the results of my physical examination; my parents who were sitting by my side throughout the hearing tensed up at the mention of it, they even shot me a sideways glance, but that was that.

David even handed in evidence that Damien was out of Jersey the day it all went downhills. We were only guilty of kissing, but there was zero proof of it; cases only relied on material evidence, not blubbered claims.

The jury - even if he mentally deemed us guilty - didn't have a choice but to let us loose. I sent a silent prayer, thankful. I was definite that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Damien was ever thrown away in jail for loving me while I wander around free because according to society and the law; I was the victim, but really I was anything but.

I caught sight of Damien's eyes across the hall, and my breath simultaneously got caught in my chest.

He looked a lot gruffer, his dark circles more prominent, and his hair even sported more white hairs, but nonetheless he smiled. He smiled his soft lazy smile - the one that was previously enough for me to let loose and believe that everything was going to be okay, but little did he know that it was far from so.

I tried to forge a smile his way, not wanting to rip his few moments of relief apart, but he noticed, he noticed how strained it really was, and for the first time ever, I hated how he was able to always read me as openly.

His eyebrows furrowed, as he mouthed 'what's wrong' across the hall, mindless of all the people around us. Long did he abandon David's - now - one sided conversation, and long did I forget that my parents were standing just a few steps away from me, conscious of our exchange.

I felt a tug in my chest, as if my heart was trying to push through, abandoning me for him. I shook my head quietly, forged another smile, and turned my back on him much against my heart's desire.

I stirred my way clear between all the scattered people that hung around the crowded hall. I couldn't look at Damien for a second longer, and I knew that he couldn't run after me; not here, not now.

I fumbled with the car door's handle, my body riddled with pain and guilt.

My parents silently followed. They were both walking on eggshell around me since my breakdown, perhaps they finally understood how emotionally unwell I really was. My father even offered to take me to a psychiatrist's, but I silently glared his way in reply. My parents were convinced that something must be seriously wrong with me for even feeling drawn to someone as old as Damien, I even heard them whispering about it once, my father even went as far as asking a psychiatrist himself how to deal with this issue at hand. It took all my remnant will to not lash out again; a part of me was frightened to the very core of risking Pennsylvania, perhaps because my parents were already weary of sending me away now when I wasn't - according to them - in my right mind, but I was desperate to leave, to have a fresh start with no obligations towards anyone and a strong will to discover all over again who I really was, for perhaps throughout those years I've live a sheltered haphazard life with no clear definition.

The moment my father pulled up in our driveway, I was quick to jump out, unlock the front door, and instead clicked my bedroom door's lock shut.

I slipped out of my dress and heels almost instantly, I snatched them off the floor roughly tossing them into my bin. I hated the mere sight of them, for I knew if I kept them for any longer, they'd only serve as a reminder of this wretched day.