Page 42 of Weather the Storm
Or so I thought. It honestly feels like we’ve been here an eternity. Other than the sound of typing from inside the office and the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall, it’s silent, and it’s killing me, giving me way too much time to think—or should I sayrethink this decision, wondering if this is the right thing to do. The thought of facing Grant in court, even with my strong Simon by my side, terrifies me.
Grant has this way about him. He somehow always managed to reduce me to nothing while making me feel ashamed and stupid for ever thinking I could be more. The thought of Simon seeing that side of me causes embarrassment to burn in my chest. Would he think less of me if he knew how weak I really was?
“Simon,” I hiss out of the side of my mouth.
“Sup, Goldilocks?”
“Ev-everything’s gonna be okay, right?”
He twists around in his chair so his knees are pointing my way then takes my hand in his. With his eyes never straying from mine, he nods, and for some inexplicable reason…I believe him.
After waiting long enough to watch paint dry, a high-pitched beep fills the room, signaling the number on the display changing from three to four. Simultaneously, Simon and I stand. Hand in hand, we walk back into the admin offices and over to the second desk.
The woman seated there is a welcome sight: older, with kind eyes and a cheery smile. “Hello, how can I help y’all today?”
“I-I’d like to file for an or-order for protection.”
“Okey-doke.” The clerk rummages around her desk before producing a stack of papers. “Just fill these out, dear, and let me know if you have any questions.”
Simon helps me fill out the forms, which are more complicated than you’d think. When I’m satisfied with my answers, I hand them back to the clerk. She scans over the pages before tapping them all together on her desk, forming a neat stack. “Is this everything? Can you think of any other important details?”
“Um…we, um…” I struggle to collect my words, the clerk patiently waiting me out. Simon takes my hand in his, offering me his strength.
Noticing my hesitation, the clerk glances back down to the forms and addresses me by name. “Magnolia, dear, I’m Gladys, and I want you to know you can tell me anything. There won’t be any judgment or condemnation. We just want to have as much information as possible to sway the judge to rule in your favor.”
Gladys’ kind nature sets me at ease, and even though it’s hard, and it hurts to relive these memories—again—I share my story with her, doing my damnedest to remember approximate dates and any relevant facts.
By the time I’m finished, Gladys is sniffling. She tries to hide it behind a cough, but I can see the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes. “My gracious. I’ll get this filed, and when the judge makes his decision, I’ll phone to let y’all know. Have a nice day, dear, and keep your chin up.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Simon says, shaking her hand before rising from his seat.
I shake her hand after he does. “Thank you so m-much, Gladys.”
Hours pass while waiting for Gladys to call, hours that feel like a lifetime. We kill time by grabbing lunch at Dilly’s, which is coincidentally where we met when Simon came to my rescue because some jerk was harassing me for bumping into his truck. Never, ever would I have guessed we’d be here now—together, in love, and blissfully happy. Never did I think something like this was in the cards for me.
After lunch, we head down to the beach. Leaving our shoes in the truck, we walk along the shoreline, letting the waves tickle our toes.
“Gonna be beach weather soon,” Simon states, splashing water my way.
“I’m excited. I didn’t go to the beach much back home, and the g-gulf is a lot warmer.”
“Sure enough. Maybe for spring break we can book a condo?”
“That sounds a-amazing, the perfect chance to wear the sw-swimsuit I b-bought last weekend with the girls.”
Simon stops in his tracks. “You bought a swimsuit?” His words sound stiff, and I worry I’ve somehow upset him. Should I have asked him first?
Slowly, I give him an unsure nod.
“Damn, pretty girl, I can’t wait to see you wearing it.” Will this man ever stop surprising me? I sure hope not.
Blushing, I attempt to flirt back. “We…we’ll have to remedy that over your b-break then.”
Simon moves to step toward me when my phone rings. The number is local. “H-hello?”
“Hi there, Magnolia, Gladys here. Wanted to let you know the judge has issued the order.”
Hope soars through my chest. “H-he has?”
