"Yes, I tried multiple times, but when your uncle is a big politician and has the cops in his pockets, they get swept under the pile." As he takes down notes, I give him the information that I remember about who I talked to and when and where.
"And when you got here, you married Bennett right away for protection?"
I stop and just stare at him because nothing I have said so far has come anything close to that.
"You’re putting words into my mouth. I did not marry Bennett for protection. I married him because I love him. Before I came here, we talked for quite a while. Then once I arrived, we dated. We went to the rodeo, had dinner with his friends, we were each other's dates to Cash and Hope’s wedding, all before we got married ourselves."
"So why would your uncle think you're being held against your will?"
"He doesn't really think that. What he's doing is manipulating the truth to get me away from my husband so he can force me to stop me from telling what he did to me. Not only did he break into our cabin, but he's been making threats left and right. Nor did I give him a forwarding address or any information. Yet he still found me. How?"
He scribbles down notes and asks me a few questions about different ways that I might have slipped up and my uncle might have found me. All in all, I feel like the questions are ridiculous at this point. The more questions he asks, the more irritated I get.
Finally, he steps out, and it's just me alone in the room again. All I can think about is my husband and how he is doing and if he's okay. It seems like I sit in that room forever before the detective is back.
"All right, I have just a few more questions that I have to ask given the nature of the complaint," he says, actually looking sorry.
"By all means continue to put words in my mouth." I roll my eyes because at this point I'm just done.
He looks at me almost apologetically.
“Sorry I guess I’m more stressed than I realized,” I mutter before he continues.
"Has Bennett in any way put his hands on you in anger or any way that you were not comfortable with?"
"He is not that kind of man. Of course he didn't."
"Has Bennett ever forced himself on you?"
"No, it was my uncle that tried to force himself on me."
"Were you forced to marry Bennett for any reason?"
"No."
He nods and again looks apologetic before stepping out of the room once more. But this time he's only gone for a minute or two before stepping back in.
"Alright, you are free to go. If you will follow me, I'll take you to the waiting room where your friends are."
"Where’s Bennett?" I ask not moving from the room.
"Your husband is already waiting for you," he says.
I swear I've never moved so fast in my life. The moment I see my husband in the waiting room full on relief hits me. It’s followed by a wall of pure exhaustion.
I can tell the moment he sees me because he quits pacing, and his body relaxes. Without stopping, I walk right into his arms, and only then do I finally and truly calm down. I feel safe again and I realize that he's okay, too.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?"
I nod because he’s here now and that makes everything perfect.
When I sway a little, he wastes no time picking me up and carrying me out to the truck. All of our friends follow, but I don't hear anything that they say. Instead, I snuggle into his chest and let him take control because I think he needs it as much as I need to let him.
Placing me gently in the truck, he puts the seat buckle on me and gets in. Then we make our way home. I don't remember the drive or even falling asleep, but the next thing I know, he's opening the truck door and carrying me inside.
Once inside the house, he heads straight for our bedroom and lays me down on the bed. A moment later he's crawling back into bed with me, and pulling me against his chest, holding me tight.
Neither one of us moves as we lie there soaking each other in and enjoying the comfort that we're both all right. Whatever tomorrow might bring, we're both ready because we have each other.