When I see the gun the detective is holstering, my first instinct is to cover my stomach, to protect my baby. I invite them in but I don’t invite them to sit down…I can’t sit down, I won’t let them sit down. Just tell me… I don’t ask if he’s dead. It never occurs to me. I just think he did something bad and I’m about to find out just how bad.
The cops tell me that somewhere along the road from our apartment, he picked up a girl. I can feel my face flush red. He apparently decided to take her to the gravel yard where he “indecently” assaulted her. I can see that gravel yard from my balcony. Indecently assaulted her…They then tell me the girl is not quite 15…I put both hands to my mouth…oh my dear God…He will stay in jail tonight. He will go before a judge in the morning and since he has no criminal record more than likely he will be let out on his own recognizance to await trial. “Trial” I repeat. The cops tell me they don’t understand these things. They don’t understand? I don’t understand…
He is not a sexual person. Thinks it’s disgusting. Or is that just with me? I ask if he knew how old she was. They tell me that he’s claiming he thought she was 18…she told him she was 18…How did they find him? The gravel yard manager went to check things out as he does every night and saw the car. He kept them there until the police arrived. When they pulled Jonathan out of the car, his pants were down around his ankles.
I excuse myself and run to the bathroom and try to throw up. Dry heaves…The embarrassment stings and can hardly breathe. When I come back, the cops are getting ready to leave. They are looking around and they ask if we have a daughter. Jonathan told them he had a little daughter and they didn’t see any child…”You think he’s lying to you about having a child, because you don’t see her?” I snap indignantly. “For what? Sympathy?” I tell them she’s ten months old, she’s sleeping in her crib and they are more than welcome to look in on her. They put up there hands and say no no it’s ok…I then play my own sympathy card and tell them I’m pregnant and that makes one of them shake his head…
After they’re gone, I sit on my balcony and stare at the gravel pit. It’s dark and all I can see is the places that are illuminated by flood lights. My eyes scan different spots…was it there? Did it happen there…I draw a bath and let myself sink into the comfort of the hot water. I can’t cry. The shock and anger are too much.
I can’t sleep in our bed. I camp out on the sofa and it will be three in the morning before I can fall asleep. Then in the morning, life will resume with the baby waking, needing to be fed and I will go through the motions.
And then the time will come when he will come home and he has to face me and tell me what he did…I dread that time and hope it’s all a mistake…
Next -> His Version
Tags: detective, gun, pants down, police version, sexual person