Saving Justice

Chapter Eighteen

A few days have passed after Justice was sent to the facility. Thinking about her all the time, I feel restless. I want to check on her almost every day, but I know better that it's not something I should do. My presence is not what she needs to heal.

I shake my head and stop myself from worrying with a heavy sigh. Crossing my legs beneath me, I sit on top of Cole's bed and watch him pack the majority of his belongings quietly. I'm already done putting his casual clothes in a large corrugated box. Cole doesn't have many clothes. Like me, he can be selfish when it comes to spoiling himself. It's not surprising to me anymore that everything fits inside the box.

Our apartment is all dressed up with the appliances and furniture we bought. All issues with regards to utilities are fixed. Cole's colleague, an interior designer, has finished transforming the apartment to our liking. The move-in date is already set for the day after tomorrow, so we are getting ready today. Cole even had to ask for a short notice leave of absence to have some free time today.

I catch Cole's attention as I stare at him for too long. He suddenly looks up at me. His eyes express so much regret, though he tries to look and act natural.

I hate it.

I hate seeing that look on him. I feel like I'm somehow responsible for it.

For the past weeks, since I discovered the truth about Justice, I keep asking myself why things have to turn out like this?

If I just let Justice be, would she be in a better situation? If I didn't push myself onto her, would these things happen?

It is frustrating how life is filled with uncertainties. We experience this almost every day. If we can only be certain and see what the future holds, I'm sure we can make the right decisions. However, if that's how if we are given the power to know the consequences of every action we make, we won't learn to face challenges and take risks.

Our life will be futile.

It will be pointless.

"Are you feeling tired or sleepy?" Cole asks me in a very gentle way that he can. "You can take a nap while I finish packing. I'll wake you up once it's time for dinner."

I shake my head, feeling a strong force of guilt creeping into my soul. Aside from that, I'm also feeling so frustrated that it makes me want to cry. I just want to let go of all of these troubling emotions inside me. I want to let it all out. I don't want to keep feeling this way.

"I'm sorry, C-Cole..." My voice breaks as I apologize to him.

The panic starts to show on Cole's expression. He immediately strides his way to me, brings himself down on one knee, and holds my hand tightly. His eyes are full of anxiety while they look for mine. I can even feel his hands trembling as he holds me tighter.

"W-why are you saying sorry?" he stutters.

My eyes narrow while I quizzically look at him. I'm not sure, but I think he's got the wrong idea. The way he reacted and responded makes me feel so.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, unless..." He shakes his head. "Venice, please tell me you're not canceling our engagement. I don't want that, babe."

As my eyes widen, my lips also part. I'm slightly taken aback by how Cole escalates things. I can't help wonder if that thought has been sitting at the back of his mind for a while now. If not, he won't look this anxious.

Did he really think that I would cancel our engagement?

"I told you it is fine with me if we have to postpone our wedding. I understand. I really do," Cole tries to persuade me. "You need time. I need time. My family also needs it. We all do."

I haven't got the chance to speak as I'm still trying to decipher his words.

"I can wait, babe... I can wait no matter how long if you'll still be my wife in the end," he sincerely tells me. "We don't need to rush. We are all still recovering. I understand that―"

"Cole." I cut him off, placing my finger against his lips. He stops right away and stares at me in shock. "I'm not canceling our engagement."

Now, he begins to relax when we hear that, but the way he holds my hand ― with a sense of possessiveness ― does not change.

"You won't?"

Shaking my head, I smile at him and pull one of my hands from his hold to caress his cheek. "I will never do that." I give him the assurance that he needs. "I love you. You are the only man I want to marry. You know that."

I know that things are way more complicated for him. He may not be that close to Justice, but he is still her cousin. On top of that, he has to take care of his sister while his parents are busy with important matters for Justice.

Natalie is also having a hard time coping with the fact that she had to quit her job at the café. I'm actually worried that it may negatively affect her mental health, so I will have to monitor her as well.

Cole gently closes his eyes, feeling my palm on his cheek. "Then, why are you saying you're sorry?"

Pouting my lips, I say, "I just want to apologize because we have to postpone our wedding and move it to a later date."

Cole and I already came up with a mutual decision to postpone our wedding, which is supposed to be this coming October 28. We haven't decided on a new date yet, but we will meet with Emily tomorrow to formally tell her our indefinite plan. Hopefully, we will be able to decide on a new date as soon as possible.

"I told you, Ven, it is okay with me. I know why we have to do it," he says, looking at me with an earnest gaze, then smiles. "Married or not, I'd still get to sleep and wake up with you by my side. We will get to live under the same roof―in our own house."

My mouth curls up into a smile.

Though our wedding will be postponed, we will still push through living together. We will cohabit until we finally make everything official through a wedding ceremony.

"It is more than okay for me. The wedding can wait until we're all ready," Cole says without any sign of discontentment.

•••

After spending an intimate moment with Cole, I walk down to the kitchen while he continues packing his stuff. Eleanor is there, still going through some papers. She looks stressed and weary.

I look over the table and see the ingredients untouched. It's almost time for dinner, but Eleanor is not yet done preparing the ingredients. She has not started cooking.

"Need help, Eleanor?" I ask her.

She turns to me, looking tired. "Oh..." She, then, glances at the uncut vegetables. "Right... I was supposed to cook earlier."

"I can do the cooking." I offer help. "You can just focus on that important matter."

Smiling gently at me, she nods, resembling her son. "Please."

"Sure, I'll start cooking now."

"Thank you so much, Venice."

I shake my head. "No problem."

It's the least I can do.

With that, I start cooking broccoli chicken casserole and beef vegetable stew for dinner. I'm about to make mashed potato as a side dish, but Natalie wants to do it herself, so I let her. I guess she wants to keep herself busy.

She looks so forlorn while mashing the potatoes after boiling and peeling them. I'm starting to worry more about her.

"Venice..."

I stop observing Natalie when Eleanor calls for my attention.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but can I ask you to look for Justice's passport in her room?" she asks me for a favor. "I have to call Ronan. Can you help me?"

Though I'm hesitating to enter Justice's room, I nod my head, willing to extend my hand to help in any way possible. "Sure. No problem."

"Just check the drawers. It must be inside one of those."

"Noted."

"Thanks." She smiles again and immediately calls her husband on the phone.

With a heavy heart, I walk upstairs and enter Justice's room. My brain almost explodes with all the memories I shared with her inside the room. I can't decide whether these memories are supposed to be forgotten or remembered. Sometimes I feel like it's a part of me, so it is something that I should never forget. However, these memories also give me pain and anxiety that makes me not want to remember.

The other day, we visited Justice at the facility to check how she was doing. Although Cole hesitated to take me them, he eventually resigned and allowed me to tag along.

There was no improvement yet. I knew it would take while for her, but I was hoping for the best.

Justice was still unresponsive and sluggish. Every time our eyes met, though, she would always smile brightly. However, once our visiting time was over, her eyes were getting moist while watching me leave. She didn't want me to go, but she also knew that she could do nothing to make me stay.

I couldn't stay.

I just hope that she will be able to recover fast. Once she's out, I'll make sure to make it up to her in any way that I can. I’ll continue guiding her.

Before I completely lose myself again from the unwanted thoughts and forget about the errand which Eleanor asked me to do, I puff up and breathe out, stopping myself from walking down the memory lane. I proceed to search for her passport on the drawers of the study table, but it's not there. And so, I move over to the drawers beside her bed. Just to make sure, I double-check every drawer once again and search for it inside her bags. To no avail, no luck as well.

Exhausted from searching, I sit on the top of her bed, contemplating where she kept her passport. I slightly lean backward, suspending myself mid-air. To support myself, I rest my hand on the pillow.

I feel something solid under the pillow when it sinks ahead of finding a comfortable position. My forehead creases as my brows knit up simultaneously. I move the pillow out of the way to see what's under it.

I'm surprised to find the passport, which is what I've been searching for for the past ten minutes. I pick up the passport, ready to go back to the kitchen, and give it to Eleanor when I happen to chance upon a hardbound notebook.

It has a title that piques my interest. It catches my attention right away. It exudes a strong energy, telling me that it should be read.

MEMOIRS OF JUSTICE

That's what is written on the front cover.

My forehead creases as my fingers trace the letters written on the cover and I whisper, “Memoirs of Justice…”

Memoirs? Is this her diary?

I'm having a hard time deciding if I should open the notebook and read the contents. I don't want to invade Justice's privacy even more, but something about the aura of the notebook invites me to cross the line. It looks very suspicious to me that I get skeptical about it. 

"I'm sorry, Justice..." I whisper and eventually get the notebook.

Pursing my lips, I carefully place the notebook on my lap and put the passport on top of the lamp table. I breathe in and out deeply. Tucking a few stray strands of hair behind my right ear, I slowly open the notebook and find the very first entry of Justice in her memoir.