The three of us eventually returned to the house while Ian stayed down the street to live with his mother.
After the incident, Ian lost his job at the police department, lost his wife, his children and now his home. He grew remorseful- or so we believed. He called Mom and begged for her forgiveness; repeatedly asking that she take him back. He missed her, he missed the Caleb and I, he didn’t know what he was thinking, he didn’t mean it, he would change and the most infamous of all of them;
H E W O U L D N E V E R
D O I T A G A I N.
With time, Mom retracted her restraining order, dropped the charges and chose not to testify in court against him; leaving Ian with nearly no punishment for what he had done to her.
All his remorseful, sweet apologies allowed Mom to eventually reconcile with Ian. He returned to the house. He appeared gravely apologetic and thankful to be home, but had he changed at all? I couldn’t tell. How could I? I was young. Not involved in anything, yet enduring everything.
Tension seemed to follow in his every step, never resting, and instinctively told me to stay away. Even if we had a peaceful day where no words were exchanged, no one was angry and nothing at all happened, for the next several weeks I would awake out of a deep sleep for the slightest noise. A car driving through the alley, a siren echoing through the neighborhood, a sudden slam of the kitchen cabinet; I was in constant alert. I worried for when the next terrible moment would come. Because as Ian was beginning to teach me, there was always a next time.”