Dating Games(111)
Once I have a manhattan in my hand and take a sip, I return my attention to the enormous ballroom, searching for Julian. But it’s hard to find him in a sea of what I estimate to be over five hundred people.
After Sonia’s passing, I’d received word of this event to raise funds for the foundation her sister had started in her name with the purpose of providing help and resources to other women in similar situations as Sonia found herself in.
Thankfully, the police brought Ethan in for questioning based on the information I, as well as Julian, provided. When the robbery gone wrong angle didn’t pan out, they took a closer look at Ethan and ended up arresting him after his alibi fell through. Once I learned that, I felt a bit of vindication for Sonia, knowing Ethan wouldn’t get away with what he’d done. But there are times I turn on the TV and listen to newscasters discuss recent developments in her case that I can’t help but feel I could have done something to prevent this from happening in the first place. I can only imagine what Julian must be going through, the guilt that must consume him over the fact he tried to help, but it wasn’t enough. Just like with his mother. I should have stood by his side and comforted him during this difficult time that must have reopened old wounds. I hope it’s not too late to do that.
As I search for Julian, or at least a friendly face who could point me in the right direction, a voice comes over the speakers and everyone turns their attention to the stage in the center of the room. Cameras flash, reporters lifting audio recorders to get a few snippets. That’s how it usually is at these functions. The media is invited to ensure the event makes headlines, padding egos. But here, it’s not about that. It’s about sharing Sonia’s story and encouraging more people to help those in similar situations.
“Hello, friends,” the woman says in a slight Spanish accent. Her olive-toned skin and dark hair make it apparent she’s Sonia’s sister, their appearance nearly identical. “My name is Isabella Moreno. I wanted to take a minute to thank all of you for coming out tonight to support this foundation.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Sonia would have wanted to know her death wasn’t in vain, that something good could come out of it, that perhaps she could have a hand in preventing the same tragedy from happening to someone else. It’s because of your generosity that can become a reality.”
There’s polite applause from the crowd before she continues. “I had no idea what was going on in her personal life. When the cameras were on, she was all smiles, telling everyone how happy she was in her marriage. We all believed it was the perfect love story. It wasn’t until this past year that I learned the truth. It all started when she told me she’d hired an escort named August Laurent. Or, as many of you know him, Julian Gage.”
She steps away, revealing a man in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, like many of the other men here. But he’s not like any of the others, not to me.
Low murmurs and a few gasps ring out as he steps up to the podium, many of the attendees just as surprised about this revelation as I was when I first learned the truth.
“Good evening.” Placing his hands on the podium, he pauses in contemplation, briefly closing his eyes before looking at the assembled guests. “Since Sonia’s death, I’ve debated what to do, what to tell all of you. I’ve kept this secret for years. My work depended on me being able to maintain my anonymity, and it worked. But losing Sonia made me reconsider things. It made me realize the importance of telling those you care about how you feel. You may not get another chance.”
He momentarily averts his gaze, drawing in a deep breath. “Sonia was surrounded by people she thought were her friends and was in a marriage that, on its face, was the picture of perfection. But she’d never felt so alone. That’s why she sought me out. And over the weeks we spent together, she confided in me. I think she just wanted someone to talk to, someone who would listen and not judge her for staying in an abusive relationship. Because of our time together, she finally found the strength to file for divorce.”
He grips the podium tighter, his expression fraught with emotion. When he looks at the audience again, tears are visible in his eyes and his voice wavers.
“Unfortunately, despite the courage she demonstrated, her husband carried out his threat. She called me that night, panicked. I tried to get to her. But I was too late.”
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as I recall the night he left me for what I thought to be another woman. He claimed it was a matter of life and death. I can’t believe how true that was.
He clears his throat, his voice becoming strong once more. “And that’s why this work is so important. Sonia had her freedom ripped from her, but our hope is that other women won’t have to suffer the same tragedy.
“Sonia isn’t the first victim of domestic violence, and she certainly won’t be the last. But we can try to combat this epidemic, this idea of patriarchy and male dominance that seems to permeate society. Yes, men can be victims of domestic violence, too. It’s the idea of exerting power and authority over another person that needs to stop. It happens far too often and to people we never expect because of how happy they appear on the outside. Hell, Sonia always smiled, no matter what. I should have known something was off, considering my mother did the same thing…until she was murdered by her husband, my step-father, when I was twelve.”
An eerie silence falls over the room as people absorb his confession, his truth. This is a man who’s spent the past decade in these social circles, pretending to be someone he wasn’t so they’d accept him. It warms my heart to witness him finally discuss his past so freely. I hope it will encourage more to do the same.