Page 191 of Perfect
Elise keeps me apprised of what’s happening with the trial, and we have trial preparation every few weeks. She reassures me that we’re moving quickly, even though it takes months.
The last month leading up to the trial is tough. Elise and I have to go over everything in excruciating detail, including what she’ll ask and what the prosecutor might ask. I’ll have to talk in detail about my relationship with Theo, my marriage, and what happened with Danny.
I’ve only had to speak to my therapist abouteverythingthat happened, and since part of trauma therapy is processing things I buried and I havenointerest in talking to strangers about it, I tell one crucial lie while we’re preparing for trial.
It won’t jeopardize Theo’s chances of getting out, so it’s fine.
He’ll know, but he won’t push me about it.
Between the trauma therapy and preparing for the trial, I stop sleeping well. I’m back to lying in bed alone, desperately missing Theo and afraid to go to sleep. Every time I wake up from a nightmare, I grab a shirt or a sweater of Theo’s and put it on a pillow, curling up with it and burying my face in it, inhaling his scent to try and comfort myself until I'm able to fall back asleep.
By the time the trial rolls around, I’ve run out of shirts that still smell like him.
56
THEO
MONDAY, AUGUST 26
The psychologist Elise hired, who I lied to carefully and relentlessly, testifies that I’m a reasonable, mostly stable person with complex trauma, and while I was afraid for my own life, I was genuinely terrified for Alex’s.
The doctors testify that while I was severely injured when we got to the hospital, they almost lost Alex, which I didnotknow.
The rental owner testifies that the body was horrifying to see, which is a little fair, because I completely lost my mind.
The cops testify that no one who could do what I did to Danny should be allowed to walk free, but they’re fucking cops and they’re being melodramatic becausehewas a cop.
After two days of sitting in this courtroom impatiently listening to people I don’t fucking care about, we get to the most important testimony. When Alex walks into the courtroom, everything else fades away, and I have to work hard to seem somber.
She still looks too thin and tired, but she seems a lot more like herself. She’s obviously nervous, but her shoulders drop slightly the second she sees me, and she seems calmer immediately. I’m not supposed to interact with her, but I can’t help smiling at her a little bit and giving her a quick wink. She blushes, trying not to look at me, and Elise clears her throat sharply, so I look down at the table until I can control myself.
Once the prosecutor starts asking questions, I have to work hard to keep my shit together. I didn’t want Alex to testify because I thought it would be too hard on her, but I didn’t even consider that listening to her would be hard on me, mostly because I’m a fucking idiot.
The prosecutor asks her tough questions about what happened, and it’s a series of stops and starts because she keeps crying. I’m stuck at this fucking table, and it’s making me miserable to have to watch her cry with no way to comfort her. I want to do anything I can to take care of her, so every time she looks over at me, I take a deep breath, and she follows suit.
It calms both of us down.
Alex gets into the details of what happened to her, some of which I knew and most of which I didnot. My knee bounces quickly as she talks about getting kidnapped, and I shut down entirely when she starts talking about what Danny put her through in the cabin. When the prosecutor asks Alex if she remembers being raped by Danny and she says no, I go cold and work hard not to freak out in front of all these people.
She’s fuckinglying.
“Mrs. Murphy, will you please review Exhibits 1 through 20?” The prosecutor gestures to the photos in front of Alex, but she stares at him for a second, not looking at the pictures in front of her or at the large crime scene photos printed and displayed for the jury to her left. I can tell she’s tired, and when her eyes finally dart to me, I help her breathe. Alex finally looks down and shuffles through the photos slowly, and I watch her face anxiously, my knee bouncing quickly.
“Now, you were the only witness to the altercation between Mr. Murphy and Mr. Anderson, correct?”
“Yes, I was,” she says, still looking down at the photos and cautiously not reacting to them.
“Do you believe Mr. Anderson acted out of self-defense when he did this?” he asks, waving a hand at the large, blown-up photos of Danny’s body.
“Yes, I do.” No, she doesn’t. She knows I did it for her. Everyone in this fucking courtroom knows I did it for her.
“You said earlier that you were experiencing some level of psychological dissociation as you witnessed the altercation, correct?” Alex raises her head and stares at the prosecutor, and I can tell she’s irritated.
“That’scorrect,” she says, her tone sharper.
“Do you feel as though you were able to accurately assess the situation, given your psychological state at the time?” I grit my teeth as Alex’s face flushes and her eyes narrow.
“Being brutally beaten and raped isn’t fun, soexcuse mefor coping,” she snaps. I draw in a sharp breath and hear Elise exhale slowly beside me. “Seeing as Danny was raping mewhile I was dying,and Theo got shot and beaten half to death trying tosave my life, I think I have an exceptionally accurate assessment of the situation, thank you very fucking much,” she says slowly, her voice acidic and condescending.
