Page 32 of Crashing Without Justice

I watched as he stood up from the booth, and when he made no effort to shake my hand again, that told me everything that I needed to know about his intentions. He wanted nothing to do with me, Paige, our marriage, or what I had going on with Trista; he really just cared about his kids, and I was okay with that.

Deciding to just get dinner here, I was about to flag the waitress over when my phone chimed with an incoming text. When I pulled it up, it was Jeremy, and I could feel my shoulders sag immediately.

Bro:Check out her latest post.

Jeremy had been kind enough to send me a screen shot since I had blocked her days ago, not interested in anything that she was telling the masses. Again, while most people would have felt the need to defend themselves on social media, that wasn’t me. Not only was I in the wrong for what I’d done, but I liked my private life to stay private, no thanks to Paige.

When Satan comes knocking on your door, you might be tempted to answer since he’ll be disguised as everything that you’ve always wanted, but remember that nothing good ever comes easily, and it shouldn’t. I made the mistake of making life too perfect, and that’s how you get taken advantage of. However, forgiveness is still an option when mistakes are acknowledged, and people want to do the right thing. Funny how one little phone call can begin to set things to rights.

Me:What the fuck??????

Bro:She’s making it sound like u 2 r getting back 2gether. Please tell me ur not. Seriously, Hard.

Me:NEVER!!! Even if Trista were 2 leave me 2morrow, there’s no way I could get past all the insane shit Paige has done. I’m done ignoring her red flags.

Bro:Thank you, Jesus.

I set my phone on the tabletop, feeling like I’d just been sucker punched again. While I knew that Trista would never believe that I’d ever go back to Paige, I didn’t needanyonethinking that I was crazy enough to try to work things out with her after everything that she’d done and kept doing.

I also hated how I was powerless to stop her from everything that she was doing. Even if I did get a restraining order against her, that wouldn’t stop her from continuously making her fake accounts to harass others. It also wouldn’t stop her from using the text app, and with her having access to all my contacts, it really felt like there was no end in sight.

Losing my appetite, I got my wallet out, threw some bills on the table for a tip, then headed out of the diner. It was a Friday night, and since I didn’t have to work tomorrow, I was going to get drunk with Jeremy and put it on him to keep me from doing anything stupid.

Chapter 22

Paige~

Whoever was knocking on my door so early in the morning was going to get an earful. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it was too early to be bothering people in their homes. Granted, it could be a neighbor that needed some help, but still.

Grabbing a robe to ward off the morning chill, I put it on, then made my way to the front door. It was still snowing, and while beautiful to look at, it really was a bitch at times. Once upon a time, Harding and I would sit in the backyard to watch the snow fall, all bundled up, holding each other, living in the solitude of our love and commitment. However, everything was different now. Harding had ruined our lives, and nothing would ever be the same again. Even if we got back together, I’d have to keep him under lock and key to keep him from straying again, making usthatcouple.

Shaking myself from those thoughts, I pulled the front door open to find two police officers standing before me, and my heart immediately dropped to my stomach. There was only one reason that the police showed up at a person’s door unexpectedly, and I couldn’t help but think that some terrible accident must have occurred.

“Paige Rice?” the male officer asked.

“Yes, I’m Paige Rice,” I answered, my voice giving away my obvious anxiousness.

“Hello, I’m Officer Boone, and this is Officer Clinton,” he said, introducing himself and his partner. “We were hoping to have a few words with you.”

“About what?” I rushed out. “Is everything okay?”

“We’re here about your husband, Harding Rice,” he said, and I could feel panic threatening to take over.

“What about him? Is he okay?”

“He’s made some complaints against you,” he informed me, and that panic immediately morphed into rage. “Some claims of harassment.”

Doing my best to tamp down my anger, I said, “Well, he’s lying. I haven’t been harassing anyone, and you can’t prove that I have.”

The officers shared a quick look, and I almost let out a curse. I needed to look like the victim, and acting defensive wasn’t going to help me here. I also needed to keep in mind that they couldn’t prove anything. Even if records show that the calls and texts had come from my phone, there was no proof thatI’dbeen the one doing the texting or calling.

“Mrs. Rice, what your husband showed us is enough to constitute criminal behavior,” Officer Boone stated, his voice even, but I knew that he was judging me; they were both judging me.

“I haven’t done anything,” I denied. “Whatever Harding’s told you, he’s lying.”

“So, you’re saying that no calls or texts were ever made from your phone?” Officer Clinton asked, her eyes staring at me intently.

“I’m saying thatInever made any calls or texts,” I corrected, refusing to play into their mind games.

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