It’s been three weeks since Moreno broke into our house, and we’ve pressed charges. It took us the rest of the afternoon to calm the kids down. That wasn’t going to happen ever again. This time, we were really getting rid of Jaime Moreno in our lives. Harm is making his case with the judge, and I’m sitting here, at the table, trying to focus on what Harm is saying, instead of the look in Moreno’s eyes. Ever since we started this, I can read the disgust in his eyes every time I see him. There is something about this guy that scares me to death. I don’t know whether it’s his appearance or his demeanor, or something else, but I don’t like it. Harm has made his case, and he sits down next to me, reaching for my hand and squeezing it. Twenty minutes later, the whole thing is over. We are not going to see Moreno ever again. He’s being led out of the courtroom and looks at me with this look that sends the shivers down my spine. I’m glad that the kids aren’t here. I hate this. Harm pulls me close in a hug.
“It’s over, honey. There’s nothing he can do, now.”
I let my breath escape. I know that, but I think that I have to start and realize it. And realizing stuff like this, takes time. “I know, Harm.” I give him a small smile. “I know.”
“Good.” Harm gathers his papers and we walk out of the courtroom, into the bright day outside. We’re going to get some rest at home, then pick our lives up and move on. I don’t want to remind myself of this all the time. During our ride home, Harm steals glances at me every now and then. He knows I’m being too quiet, but he also knows that it’s best not to ask right now. It’s better if I get the chance to collect my thoughts. This whole thing hasn’t been easy on us, and it won’t be for a while. Harm and I will have to come to terms with the fact that this has happened and there was not a whole lot we could’ve done to prevent it.
About an hour later, we’re sitting on the back porch, staring of into the distance. My emotions have been all over the place, and I’m completely drained. It would be worse if I didn’t have Harm to soften some of the blow. Lucky me. His hand is drawing lazy circles on my arm. We don’t have to pick the kids up until after dinner. Harm turns his head to me. “You okay?”
I nod. “Better than I was an hour ago.”
“That’s good.”
We don’t say anything after that, and we don’t really have to. We’ll be all right.

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