-- 4 years later --
"Fuck, where the fuck did I put the lighter?" I mumble.
She'll be here any minute now and I can't find the damn lighter to light the fucking candles.
I need everything to go accordingly to plan.
The last four years have been shitty. Between avoiding Johanna's advances and working on us as a couple, then taking care of Dylan with my work and her school was hard. The trial against my brother was the final straw, we've barely had time to breathe.
My brother was convicted to five years. Forced to do drug treatment and psychological therapy. He'll be signalled as a sex offender and if the psychologist deems it inappropriate to society he'll have to go to a clinic where he's supervised constantly.
The whole process was a shit show because my parents kept on making public statements, attacking us. At least until my brother admitted to everything and even showed a video as proof. I was appalled at the fact that my father had kept the whole video from our house's security system and still blamed her.
It's safe to say I lost it.
Unfortunately, nothing can bring back what's been taken from Willow.
Sometimes I still wake up with her sobs from a nightmare. I know what to do now, I automatically go to the couch and sleep there.
In these moments, the worst thing to do is try to touch her. I've learned the hard way. It's hard. I always feel helpless and it baffles me how she can wake up the next day with a smile on her face like nothing happened the previous night.
She is amazing.