Find all the parts of this story here.
Chapter 10: The Dawn
Part 2: Sam
Nearly a week later, Sam dropped off Sophie at his parents’ house long past dinner. She had found three apartments with openings, one in Williamson and two in New Albany, and they had toured all three tonight.
“What did you think of them?” Sophie asked as they sat at the kitchen table with warm cookies from his mom. His parents had made the hilarious choice of making themselves scarce, as though Sam and Sophie were in high school again.
“I think the one in Williamson and the first one in New Albany are both in safe neighborhoods, and the buildings are reasonably secure. I don’t like the last one we saw, though,” he gave his honest assessment.
“Me neither,” she agreed with a shudder before he could explain why. Yeah, the lack of a locking main entrance and nearly the same shade of nasty carpeting probably reminded her a little too much of her current residence. Or previous residence, depending. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go back to the apartment.
“Are either of those in your budget?” Sam asked.
“Yup. I didn’t look at ones that weren’t,” she replied.
Smart girl.
“Sam?”
“Yup?”
“Where do you live?”
Sam had to laugh. How had this never come up? “Less than a mile from that apartment in Williamson.”
Sophie blushed, flicking a glance up at him. “Would you mind if…” She paused and chewed on her lip. “Well, if I lived near you?”
Sam resisted the urge to grin like a cheshire cat. It was too soon to say anything, but if he were to be honest with both of them, he’d like her to live very near him at some point in the very near future. He just had to figure out how to get to that point.
“I’d like that,” he settled on the simple reassurance. “It would make it easy to bring you takeout when you work late.”
Now she smiled shyly at him. “I’d like that, too.”
“Hey, before I go, one more thing,” he turned serious. “Oliver Isolah has asked, via his lawyer, to have the opportunity to speak to you. It would be a supervised conversation in an interview room at the county jail. You would be perfectly safe.”
He watched Sophie curl in on herself and wished he could take away the painful memories he knew were flooding her mind. He reached out to take her icy-cold hands in his, rubbing gently to try to warm them.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, please,” he requested when she had chewed on her lip in silence for a minute.
“I… I don’t know,” she looked at him helplessly. “I feel so conflicted. I want to understand why. I want to forgive him. But I also don’t want to go anywhere near him. Do I have a choice?”
“Of course. You can decline Oliver’s request with no repercussions,” he assured.
“Except for my own not knowing,” she corrected.
“Well, it’s possible answers would come out at trial.”
“Trial?” Sophie’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t think…”
“That there would be a trial? Kidnapping isn’t something private parties sue over. It’s a crime, and the state can prosecute Oliver without your involvement if need be. They’ll probably ask you to testify down the road, but you’ll have a choice then, too.”
Sophie appeared to digest that all in silence, again leaving a long break before speaking. Sam had learned to give her time to think.
“I’ll talk to Oliver now. It will be easier to face him privately for the first time than in a court room,” she finally spoke with a nod.
“We can go tomorrow after work if you want. I’m off.”
“Will you come with me?” she asked.
“If you want me, I’m there.”
And he was. Friday night, they slid into uncomfortable chairs across a plain laminate table from more empty, uncomfortable chairs. A short time later, Oliver Isolah entered wearing tan pants and a tan shirt stamped with the initials of the prison. His hands were cuffed together in front.
He looked broken-spirited, Sam thought. Keeping an eye on Sophie, he watched her hands clasp tighter in her lap. He had offered to hold her hand when they sat, but she had declined. Sam wondered if she felt she had to hold herself together for this. He understood, in his own way. He hadn’t been hurt by Oliver in the same way as Sophie, but he had to ask God to take on the burning rage he felt to inflict pain on the man in return.
A harried man in a wrinkled suit accompanied Oliver and the guard escorting him. Oliver and the lawyer sat; the guard remained alert but stood back. There was no chance Oliver would get near Sophie tonight.
The lawyer cleared his throat and looked at Oliver expectantly. Oliver studied Sophie with a sorrowful expression, completely ignoring Sam.
“Thank you… for talking to me, Sophie,” Oliver began, pausing to cough a little. He waited like he expected a response, but Sophie gave him none.
“I wanted to have a chance to explain myself, since you didn’t let me last week.” Now Oliver sounded a little peeved, which raised Sam’s hackles. What was she supposed to do, sit politely with that hood over her head until Oliver decided to talk? Good grief!
Sophie looked at Sam then, and he read a question in her gaze – but he had no idea what she needed. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“What is it?”
She turned her lips to his ear. “Can I speak freely? Is this recorded?”
“It is recorded but can’t be used in the trial, because you don’t have a lawyer present. This is not an official visit. So you can speak freely.”
Sophie nodded and turned back to face Oliver. She took a deep breath, surreptitiously slipping her hand over to grip Sam’s. He squeezed her fingers gently in return.
“Oliver, you kidnapped me. You frightened me. That was wrong.” Her tone was gentle, her voice soft, but it was obvious how hurt she was. Even Oliver apparently noticed, because he winced.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he came close to apologizing. “I didn’t see another way.”
“To do what?” Sophie asked.
“Convince you to-” Oliver cut himself off, breathing hard, clearly agitated. Then he cast his first look at Sam, and it was in no way kind and loving. “Does he have to be here?”
Sophie gripped his hand harder, then shocked Sam – and apparently angered Oliver more – by pulling their twined fingers up to rest on the table.
“Yes. He’s my boyfriend. Now please, Oliver, explain what is going on,” Sophie demanded.
Oliver’s face turned beet red, and his lawyer whispered frantically in his ear for a moment before Oliver spoke.
“You deserve better. I know I’m too old for you, but I wanted you to be with someone better. I thought if we spent some time together, maybe I could change your mind.” Oliver spoke haltingly, as if the words were physically painful to remove from his mind. Sam would have liked to give him something physically painful to think about. Vengeance is mine, says the Lord, he reminded himself silently.
“I’m sorry, what?” Sophie spluttered. “This was about me dating Sam?”
Oliver actually huffed like middle schooler. “Yes. He’s a…” Oliver looked at his lawyer and then Sam. He then leaned forward toward Sophie, who leaned back. Sam and the guard both tensed, ready to rise.
“Stay put, Isolah,” the guard growled.
Oliver sat a little farther back in his chair. “Fine. Make me say out loud,” he whined. “Sophie, he’s a …”
Sam’s ears barely registered the common insult for a police officer that Oliver chose, but apparently Sophie was prepared to be enraged on his behalf. She gasped and jumped to her feet, pulling on Sam’s hand. He rose and stood half in front of her.
“Why would you say that? That’s horrid.”
“Don’t be so dense, Sophie. All the police are corrupt. Don’t you read the news?”
“Not all of them, Oliver. And why would kidnapping me help with that? It’s not going to make me like you more.”
Oliver didn’t look at her, rolling his eyes and muttering like a kid. “It didn’t have to be me. Just not him.”
“Did you send me flowers and destroy my apartment?”
Oliver huffed. “He never sent you flowers, did he?”
That solved one mystery, but man, Oliver was nuts.
“Why did you damage my home?”
“He had been there.” Oliver shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“God, have mercy on us all,” Sophie muttered, standing next to Sam now and clasping his hand tightly. He squeezed her fingers in solidarity.
“I don’t know what happened to you to make you think any of this was okay.” She took a deep breath. “Oliver Isolah, shame on you. Sam is a good man. God gave us law enforcement officers to protect us, and yes, to bear the sword. Sam protected me when you endangered my safety.” When Oliver looked to start speaking, Sophie raised her palm to stop him. “I will forgive you eventually, because I don’t want to live with a grudge. I suggest you ask God for his forgiveness, too, and for help trusting his word. Sam is a child of God, Oliver, same as you and I.” Tears flowed freely down Sophie’s cheeks. “We could have been friends, Oliver, but you threw that away. Get some help. Something is wrong in your mind.”
With a last pitying look at Oliver, Sophie nodded at Sam, and he escorted her from the room. When they reached the parking lot, Sophie turned her face up to the setting sun, eyes closed, and let the gentle breeze dry the tears from her face.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“For what?” Sam asked.
“For holding my hand.”
He smiled, wrapping her in a hug. He’d gladly hold her hand forever.
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.
She melted into him, tightening the hug. “I love you back.”